Erg Chebbi - Mediterranean Backpacking Trip - Day 5 (Part 4)

With a sudden jolt, our ride became much bumpier. Mohammed had turned off the left side of the highway at a seemingly random place. He cheerfully told us that we were almost there, and that we were turning off the highway just before Merzouga to head toward Erg Chebbi. I was a bit disappointed that we would not get to see the desert town of Merzouga, but I suppose we've had our fill of oasis towns this drive. He continued on in a seemingly random direction at a surprisingly high speed over rocky barren terrain punctuated with the occasional bush or a tired looking tree. I was afraid that the old Mercedes would fall apart from the violent jolts. Although I had no idea where we were, I figured I might as well as just sit back and enjoy the ride, as he's gotten us this far through some dubious situations.

As we joined a few other tracks in the dusty terrain, we suddenly became aware of a line of golden hills on the horizon, shimmering and reflecting in the water-like mirage that was all around us. Mohammed pointed out to us that those are the dunes we are heading for, with the tallest dune towering 150 metres over the surrounding terrain. We drove up to Kasbah Erg Chebbi, a hotel at the edge of the dunes, built using the traditional materials in the the style of a traditional Moroccan kasbah. It looked very graceful as we approached, a collection of mud buildings blending into the backdrop of gracefully rising mountains of sand. Surrounding it are a few green trees and bushes to give its visitors some escape from the scorching desert sun overhead. We were led to a room that we could use for showers changing, and were told that our camel convoy would depart in just over an hour.

We sat at a table in a dusty courtyard looking out at the dunes. We drank some lemon pop to cool off after a long sweltering ride in the car. I bought Mohammed a pop to help him cool down as well, and chatted for a short while. At some point, Mohammed asked me to give him my shirt as he wanted a tip and a "souvenir" from Canada. Since I only have four shirts, I had to decline. After resting up, Felix and I took a short stroll through the dunes by the hotel. I was surprised to see how suddenly the rocky desert transitioned to the sandy desert, as there was a clear line separating the two just outside the courtyard. As we strolled behind some dunes, I noticed how silent the surroundings became. You can hear every step you take, as well as the wind howling across the sand. I picked up a rock, threw it, and heard a soft whizz....... plop as the rocks sailed through the air and buried itself into the soft sand below. The sand itself was an interesting shade of orange-red, which I commented looked like Cajun spice, to which Felix immediately drew parallels to Frank Herber's Dune. We also saw a variety of insect trail, and caught an occasional glimpse of a scarab busily scurrying around between its burrows in the sand.


When time came to leave for the camp in the desert, we met other travellers coming with us, three Slovenians and one Canadian from Québec. We each got to our camels and sat on the saddles in preparation to depart. The convoy leader walked down to make sure we were ready and to direct the camels. When he walked by me, I heard "hold on!" and as I was still trying to figure out what he meant, the front of my camel suddenly jumped up, and jerkily tilted me at a precarious angle. I grabbed the handle in front of me by instinct and held on tight as I was about to fall off backwards! A second later, I felt the back of the camel raising up and soon I was seated comfortably surprisingly high above the sand. The motion of the camel standing up reminded me very much of the AT-AT Walkers in Star Wars. As we started into the dunes of the Sahara, I enjoyed the colours around me. I was told, and it was true, that the colours of the desert change constantly throughout the day, and that every angle yields a different palette. Nearing sunset, the desert was reflecting a warm orange-red glow all around us, except while looking in the direction of the sun, where the desert seemed to take on a pale metallic and sterile shade of blue, fading to a yellowish-brown as the sun became lower in the sky.

As we rode on, our shadows became longer and the light grew softer. We stopped once for a rest, where we climbed up a nearby dune to get a view of the desert. From the top, one can see large dunes surrounding us to the north, east, and south, and the village of Merzouga was visible at the edge of the dunes to the west, where the sand disappears into a vast flat dusty plain lined with tall hills on the horizon. I also admired watching the sand blow across an amazingly well defined ridge at the top of the dune, separating the sunny side from the shady side with razor-edge precision.

As we rode behind the tallest dune, we entered a well-used campsite with other camels and groups. The ground was a minefield of camel droppings. Camps of various sizes were scattered around the area, and were all built as a cluster of tents made of worn-through rags held up by weathered wooden poles surrounding an open space in the middle of each site. The rag walls around the mini-courtyard made this quite a cozy place for a few cushions and a table to relax at.

As the Berber guides started cooking dinner, Felix and I decided to climb up the dune to try and catch the sunset. This is when we learnt the hard way never to climb up a dune directly - always walk around to the ridge and follow the ridge up. It took an amazing amount of effort to reach the summit, as with every three steps we took, we slid back two. By the time we reached the top, the sun had long set, and night was starting to blanket the desert with darkness. We sat for a while watching caravans in the distance below us. As this small northern dune field of the Sahara is only five kilometres wide, we could see the western and eastern edges of the dune field, but to the north and south, the dunes seemingly go on forever. As it became darker, a shifting blanket of dark blue, indigo, and purple was cast above us, highlighted by the sparkling stars fading in. We could see the soft yellow glow of a few lights emanating from the oasis village of Merzouga at the western edge of the sand, and to the east, over a barren plain and distant mesas, the dim light from distant Algerian villages over the border.

When it was time to head back for dinner, we slid down the dune, which filled every part of my body with sand, which included some parts I had never felt before. As we ran down the hill, we disturbed the sand on the steepest parts of the dune which warned us by grumbling a deep ominous rumbling sound, which made us slow down and descend more carefully. When we got back to camp, the candles were lit, and dinner was nearly ready. On our way back, we heard singing and fires crackling from the other camp sites, which made for little sheltered oases of light and merriment in an otherwise dark and deserted expanse.

Dinner consisted of Moroccan bread with two huge pots of hearty Berber tagine. Although we had only two candles at the table, everything was covered in a layer of small flying insects and sand, including the food. We watched the stars come out above the dunes as we ate, talked and relaxed with Moroccan tea, lounging on the cushions, protected from the wind by the gently waving rag wall around us. We discovered that the young Québécois fellow had been diagnosed with an incurable medical condition, and was given only a few years to live. He immediately dropped what he was doing and set out on a journey around the world to learn about its people and about himself in the short time that he had left. This was a very touching story indeed, and we all wished him the best. It takes a lot of courage to do what he did, and I hope that he will live a fulfilling life and find what he set out to find in the short time that he has left in this world.

After dinner, some of use ventured out of the comfort of our camp. I dragged our a cushion just outside of camp, around to where the cloth walls blocked out any candlelight from the courtyard. I lied down there and watched the stars. Soon, some others joined me, and we chatted for a long time while watching the brightest stars I have ever seen in my life. Even though the waning moon was still quite full, this was one of the few times in my life when I could clearly see the Milky Way splashed across the night sky even without my glasses on. As we talked, I watched as shooting stars shot across the full starry night at a rate of one every few minutes.

As it became late, the guides made our beds. Some chose to sleep inside the tents, while some chose to sleep in the courtyard. Me, along with another person, chose to sleep just outside the camp. As I went to go to the washroom before sleeping, I suddenly realized I had no idea where the toilet was. I had seen some tiny tents with toilets inside them at the other camps - a form of rudimentary porta-potty, but I had not seen them at our camp. When I asked the guides where the toilet is, they looked at me and said quite casually "anywhere." With that, I used my dim camping LED headlight to walk out behind the camp near the base of the dune, and peed into the dark desert beyond.

I climbed into my bed for the night, a thick bedroll with a surprisingly thick and heavy blanket on top. It turns out that sleeping outside the camp was a bad idea. At night, the desert became cold and windy, and I found myself longing to be inside the courtyard or one of the tents where I would be protected from the wind. I had a very poor night of sleep that night, due to both the discomfort of sleeping in a windy environment and to me thinking of how many wonderful experiences I am going to go through in the next two months, seeing how much I have already experienced and learnt in the past few days. Even a year ago, it had never occurred to me that I would ever find myself sleeping under the stars at a camp in the Sahara desert which we rode to by camel. As compensation for not sleeping well that night, every time I opened my eyes, I was treated to a beautiful view of the stars and the Milky Way drifting across the sky lit up by the numerous streaks of shooting stars. Surrounding it all are the mysterious dunes in the distance lit by the pale moonlight. I drifted in and out of an uneasy sleep all night comforted that I had the company of the camels who mooed, grunted, and groaned softly in the howling wind.

Half Dome In Winter (Part 2)

Speeding up, we crossed a campsite surrounded by giant sequoias, with views of beautiful snowy slopes dotted densely with tall conifers. As we continued up some switchbacks on the dirt trail through the forest after the campsite, we met two guys heading the other way. They told us that Half Dome is not accessible due to snow and ice, but we decided that since we've gone this far, we might as well give it a try! Shortly after, we reached a sign pointing at a small trail branching off to the left of the main trail, indicating that Half Dome was 2.0 miles away. Turning onto the trail, conditions deteriorated quickly.

The trial was soon covered in deep snow, although some previous footprints helped to compact the snow a bit and made it easier to walk on. From time to time however, a heavy step would still send us through the snow, filling our shoes with icy slush and water. After some distance, the trees started thinning out and the glare of sunlight from the snow became blinding. The surrounding peaks became increasingly visible, and I was becoming aware of the size of the empty expanse around us. There was absolutely no one else around, and we did not see another person for the rest of the day until we descended back below the waterfall in the evening. The silence was beautiful, albeit somewhat haunting, as I came to realize that if we ran into any kind of danger, there would be no one around to help us.

Soon, we started to head uphill again. At this point, we could only follow the vague path made of a series of footsteps worn into the snow. Everything around us had a strange hollow quality to it, as the trees and the deep snow absorbed the sounds and echoes around us. It took a lot of effort to continue the upward climb through the snow especially after what we had been through earlier in the day, and the subtle but still noticeable effect of being above 7000 feet did not help.

As we reached the crest of the hill, we saw ahead of us a very well defined steep dome, and just beyond it, Half Dome, which from this vantage point was an enormous curved feature rising from the left, which is cut short by a magnificent rock cliff on the right. After some further investigation, we were unhappy to discover that we had not yet reached the base of Half Dome yet. What we had hoped was that the extremely steep bulge just before Half Dome on the map was the steep hill that we had just climbed, but alas it was actually the hill what we had just approaching now.

The final hill before the base of Half Dome looked unbelievably steep. It was covered in ice and snow, with a long steep drop on both sides. The height was accentuated by the vast expanses of snow covered peaks, valleys, and steep smooth rock features below, surrounding us in all directions. There was a few strings of footsteps in the snow going up the hill, following some rocky outcroppings on the left which separated the snow from a steep smooth cliff. My first reaction was "Oh, H***.... no." At the same time, Felix disapprovingly said something to me about how some people would do anything, no matter now stupid, just to prove they can. Seeing that we're not going to be able to get any farther, we sat against a tree where some dry gravel was exposed, and had a few snacks. We heard the strange grunting noises again, seemingly very close to us, which startled me quite a bit. As the noise did not come any closer, we decided that it was not a threat, and eventually it disappeared.

After the snacks, we walked up to the base of the hill to investigate. I followed Felix as he started up the extremely steep snowy hill just to test it. Ricardo decided to wait at the base of the hill where there was a grove of pine trees. Felix continued to climb higher and higher. I considered going back many times, but each time, I decided to go just a few steps farther to get just every so slightly a better view. As we cleared the treetops, an unobstructed view of the vast wild expanse was revealed to us. There would be no more trees above us except for a few weathered and twisted branches clinging to the rock, beaten by the wind and the snow. At this point, Felix decided to trudge on, and I decided that I needed to challenge myself and my fear of heights, which has added both anxiety and excitement to all of my hiking trips.

I slowly inched up in the snow, taking care not to slide, as if I slid a few feet to one side, it would mean falling hundreds, if not thousands of feet off the steep rock face. I was thankful whenever I reached a tree or some exposed rocks which formed the walls of switchbacks covered by the snow, as I felt that I could sit and rest for a few moments without the fear of sliding on the snow off the cliff. With each passing moment, the grove of trees at the base of the hill became smaller and farther away, when eventually I could see that the grove was a patch of trees on the crest of a hill above rocky features towering above a thick forested valley.


When I finally made my way to the top of this hill, I was only a short walk over some rocks to the base of Half Dome. It was very serene up here, painfully quiet other than the wind. Felix was walking toward me, as it turns out he had already tried to ascend the cables lying flat against the rock face. He told me that near the top, the cables disappear under a thick sheet of ice and snow so that the top was inaccessible. He said that his arms were shaking by the time he came down, as the cables were quite heavy and he was holding on for his life!


Although it was getting quite late and it was time for us to start heading back, I decided to give the cables a quick try anyway since I was curious if my plan with the harness would have worked. I hooked up my newly bought harness to the cables to make me more comfortable and make the ascent quicker as I would be able to use the tension in the ropes to help me. After tying the prussic knot which I looked up the day before, I hooked myself up to the cable and sat back. Amazingly, it held my weight! And so, I started going up. I only went up about a third of the way when I encountered a bolt holding the cables against the rock that would have required me to un-tie and re-tie. Seeing that the sun was getting dangerously low in the sky, that I would not be able to make it to the top anyway due to the ice, and that I had satisfactorily tested out the harness and knots, I decided to call it a day and head back. I tried rappelling down a section of the cable and walked down the rest when it became to shallow to rappel.


After packing everything back up, I took a moment to admire the scenery. We were on a rocky ledge overlooking densely forested valleys on both sides, and I walked close to the edge to look down a bit. I was very careful not to step on the snow near the edge as I kept getting mental images of me stepping on an overhanging snow shelf that would collapse under my weight! After taking a few photos, some with my face in the scene, I quickly slid down the snowy hill to find Felix by himself at the bottom. We decided that Ricardo must have left, so we started back immediately. As it was getting dangerously late, we ran downhill for nearly three miles, two of them over snow, taking only short stops for a rest or a snack. We finally ran into Ricardo, and quickly descended together back down to the waterfall meeting point after getting lost once in an area with prickly bushes and rocks by a river.


The rocks which we agreed to use as signal rocks were in their original positions, one against the outhouse and one placed away from the wall, but we noticed that one of them had been turned 90º. We earlier agreed that the rocks would be left in their original positions if Aaron and Nelson are between the waterfall and Half Dome, and the rocks would be both moved away from the wall if they were waiting by the waterfall. Stupidly, we did not agree on a signal for if they decided to head back. After a search of the area turned out empty, we decided that they must have headed back as it was getting very late. I wondered why they would have turned one of the rocks 90º instead of using what would have been the more obvious signal of moving both rocks against the wall, but I suppose they thought it was obvious enough.

The hike back was tiring and fast. Luckily, we didn't have to take that detour up and down the ridge as we did earlier as I had noticed that the ice by the upper waterfall had melted by now, and decided to take a risk on the Mist Trail which was impassible in the morning. Although we did run into a small icy section, the rest of the trial was ice-free, although wet from the mist from the Bridal Veil Falls. We were glad we took this path, as in addition to being much shorter, it was very scenic hiking along the dripping rock walls by the waterfall and through a small damp cave, especially against the backdrop of dramatically lighted peaks surrounding the area during sunset.


The last portion of the hike was the hardest. We finally reached camp about an hour after sunset, when the sky was dark and filled with stars. What a day! Felix, Ricardo and I agreed that this was probably the longest hike we had all been on. We started hiking before sunrise, and returned an hour after sunset, taking only brief rests during the day. I was exhausted. After a well deserved meal over a campfire with everyone, we crawled into our tents and dozed off, looking forward to a relaxing day of short scenic walks and the long drive back to San Francisco.

Half Dome In Winter (Part 1)

On the first weekend of April 2009, I went camping and hiking in Yosemite National Park. This trip was booked many months ago my my friend Aaron, but was organized in a very hectic last minute push due to him breaking a thumb which pulled his attention away from the trip.

In any case, we got together a small band of five people, me, my friend Aaron from work, my friend Felix from school who travelled with me to Morocco, France, and Spain, and two of Aaron's Portuguese roommates who were on an exchange program in the States. The night before, we had agreed that we'll be renting a car and preparing for a 17 mile hike up Half-Dome. I had also found out, just before going to bed, that the cables were down. The cables are part of a famous route up Half Dome where two cables on either side held up by poles are used as handrails in ascending the 60º incline up a bare rock face where wooden steps for resting are bolted to the rock every few metres. However, with the cables down for the season, what this means is that there are no poles and no steps, just a pair of metal cables hanging off of a steep, slick rock slope. I ended up getting to bed late as I was excited. I decided I'll climb up Half Dome anyway. I'll just pick up a harness, some carabiners, and some rope to tie myself into the cables with a friction knot for safety.

The next day, our plan continued to get derailed and delayed. We heard from Aaron's roommates that they had decided to all pile us in to Aarons old car from the 1980s. After squeezing everything in the car, we left two hours behind schedule. We also took much longer to pick everyone up due to people showing up at the wrong train station, and people forgetting their flashlights among other things. We finally left the Bay Area at 7pm, three hours behind schedule, cramped in the car with our bags on our laps.

The drive was beautiful in the dark, and we can tell it would be even prettier in the daytime. We saw moonlit valleys, waterfalls, and the odd headlight in the distance. At one point, we were convinced we were being followed by a ghost motorcycle when the single strangely shaped headlight behind us disappeared. When we arrived after midnight, we hastily set up our campsites and went to sleep in the freezing night as we have plans to hit the trail at 6:30 the next morning.

We left camp at 7am, just as the sun was rising. Expecting a long hike, we brought copious amounts of food and water. After a short hike up a surprisingly steep and tiring section, we arrived at a junction. According to a map, one of the trails was shorter, but the other had a sign on it that said "Winter Trail." We looked at each other and chose the shorter Mist Trial. This turned out to be a mistake. As we approached the falls, the stairs turned to slippery ice cliffs above the roaring foaming waters below. After grabbing a few photos, we walked back to the fork and continue on the long trail, where we had to climb a ridge only to descend on the other side.

After a few switchbacks covered with some packed snow piles, which my friend referred to as "glaciers" to keep things exciting, we reached a clearing made of smooth rock near the top of the ridge. The Sun was shining bright now, and from the clearing, we can see three large peaks in front of us, one of them being half dome. On the way up, we were treated to a wonderful view of the valley filled with a lush, mature coniferous forest surrounded by tall cliff faces with the iconic two-tiered Yosemite Falls in the distance. These views perked us right up, and seeing our goal for the first time, I thought it didn't look far at all, until someone pointed to the valley below which made me realize we have to go all the way down and come back up again due to the detour. Here, we stopped for a quick breakfast of some sandwiches and granola.

After lunch, we made a discovery. There was a trail that was a bit longer, but didn't require us to make the descend and climb again. On the other hand, a gate was closed across it proclaiming it was closed for the winter. We talked to two individuals about the trails, one of whom later realized she had told us the wrong directions. As both strangers decided to wander into the closed trail for a walk, we decided to give it a try. Following the switchbacks uphill soon led us into snow, some of which was fresh and had only fallen during the night before. We soon caught up with the lady we talked to early and she mentioned that she heard some strange sounds which she was afraid was a bear so was heading back. But seeing that we were now a group of five, she decided to join us as we continued to gain more elevation.

After some time, we bumped into the man we had talked to earlier who told us that the trail was impassable up ahead, although it was only blocked for a distance of about ten feet. Seeing that we've gone so far already, we decided to press on to investigate, while he and the other lady headed back together. Soon, we started travelling on a ledge with a long drop to the left and a steep snow slope to the right. As we can see the bridge that will lead us to better trails only some tens of metres ahead, we pressed on. The trail deteriorated quickly and finally, only about ten metres from clear trails, we realized that there was going to be an unacceptable chance of us slipping off the cliff if we pressed any farther. Shaken, we slowly slinked back, with Nelson, one of the Portuguese friends staying back, standing on the edge of the cliff and leaning back toward the edge to take photos uphill. He claimed that he wasn't afraid of heights, but we thought perhaps he was a bit too confident in his abilities as he had not hiked in this kind of terrain before.

When we reached the clearing we had been at for breakfast, we realized that this diversion had set us back more than an hour and a half. This means that we have wasted well over two hours going down wrong trails and retracing our steps. Combined with the fact that we are taking two longer forks in snowy conditions, this means our hike will be much more intense than what we had been planning. Seeing that it is already considered a gruelling hike taking the short forks in summer when the trails are clear of snow and ice, we started having doubts about reaching the summit. With that, we proclaimed that we are going to travel faster, and faster we went.

During the descent into the valley, I had an interesting moment when I was jogging downhill, merging onto another trail. As I was taking a wide right turn to merge onto the trail, I brushed up against the widely spaced rocks marking the sides of the trail I was turning onto. All of a sudden, I saw right in front of me, where I was running, a drop of one or two hundred metres overlooking, yes, overlooking from far above, a large waterfall. I went "whoa...," turned and stopped quickly, somewhat dumbstruck. As I was still staring at the drop, I saw Felix jogging down behind me and about to pretend to bump into me. As I was about to warn Felix, I saw his eyes open wide, and he also said "woah...," turned, and slowed down. What a view! The people on the top of the waterfall were tiny from this height, and the rather large waterfall continued to gush down into a deep gorge below.

Seeing that we were already low on time and have wasted much energy, we decided to press on and skip investigating the waterfall below, as we were sure we would encounter many more waterfalls farther up the trail. Surly enough, some more hiking brought us to the base of another waterfall, where the mist had covered the rocks below and even the cliffs to the side in a sheet of glistening ice. Here, a series of long and steep switchbacks built of rock steps brought us up the side of the waterfall. At the top, we were finally back to the altitude we were at before we had to turn back. From here, we can see that we were painfully close to the clear trails, with only a thin but very steep pile of ice and snow blocking our way.

A bit farther up, we reached another rocky clearing. Hiking off the main trail for a few minutes led us to the top of the waterfall, to the bridge we saw from the first clearing and unsuccessfully tried to reach. Here, we explored the area. There was an unfenced section by the waterfall that led to a sheer drop below, with a few boulders and a tree by the edge which was arranged in a way that reminded me of a Zen garden. This was frightening even to stand close to. Another section right by the water was fenced off, and as there was a small opening in the fence, I sat for a while with my feet danging off the cliff, clutching the fence for comfort. From here, one can see the water fall off the cliff right beside you, tumbling down the cliff face and partially turning to mist before violently smashing at the rocks below.

After finding a nearly toilet, Aaron and Nelson decided to take it slower, while Felix, Ricardo, and I are going to continue as Felix and I were determined to give it all we have to reach the top. After working out a signalling system with rocks by the outhouses as we didn't have any cell phone reception, we ventured ahead with a much faster speed than before. We were going to press on full speed to the base of Half Dome and rest for lunch before attempting the ascent. We hoped that we would meet up with Aaron and Nelson again there.

Tijuana Without the Tourists

"I hope I didn't just make a huge mistake." That was the thought running through my mind as I crossed a pedestrian bridge linking the border with the rest of Tijuana. Devoid of all tourists, the bridge is trafficked by locals and poor families huddled together on the side. Below us is a large aqueduct filled with rubble and trash. It is eerily empty and calm, nothing like the hoards of young visitors from San Diego as promised by tour books. This is the scene in Tijuana in late January 2009. Even though a travel alert had been recently issued by the American government for this area of Mexico due to drug and gang related violence, I felt that I had to visit to see first hand what life is like here.

Tijuana, boasting a population of over one and a quarter million, is the largest city in the Mexican state of Baja California located on the Mexican-US border. It is well known as a seedy party destination for high school and university students in the San Diego area due to the lower drinking age across the border and the easy access to controlled pharmaceutical substances. However, this has been drastically changed with the unprecedented surge in drug-related violence in Mexico. Due to a perfect storm of a major gang war and the use of the military in a drug trafficking crackdown, gang-related murders have skyrocketed along the Mexican border towns. I was throughly chilled to find that less than two months prior to my visit, Tijuana logged a total of 170 murders in the month of November alone, which equals a rate of nearly one murder every four hours. What really put me on edge was reading that the gangs have resorted to shooting civilians and tourists in an attempt to keep foreign money out of Mexico to starve and scare the civilians to convince their government to withdraw their military.

Because of all this, I was expecting tourism to be light. As we crossed the border and walked into town, it was obvious that I had underestimated the severity of the problem, as Tijuana had been turned into a tourist ghost town. The sight of a foreign tourist was rare indeed in Tijuana, and we only saw about four or so other groups wandering the streets in the few hours we were there. This left their economy in a precarious state as much of the business there is driven by tourism. According to some estimates, tourism to the area may have fallen by as much as 90% since the gang violence started, and up to 70% of the stores, bars and clubs catering to foreign tourists have gone out of business.

That said, Avenida Revolución, the main tourist stretch, is still quite lively as there are many locals hanging out in the area. Music still blare loudly from the bars, and many stores are open for business, creating a sea of shop owners standing outside of their stores prospecting for customers and smiling pharmacists in white robes standing outside their numerous well-lit pharmacies. However, there is a certain tinge of desperation in the air. You can feel this as soon as you cross the border. As we walked through the metal gates in an opening between the double metal wall that separates the US and Mexico, the mood changes drastically. On the Mexican side, there are people and kids clutching at the fence, staring listlessly across to its rich northern neighbour. This feeling of despair was accentuated by the fact that there was no passport check or any sort entering Mexico, just two sets of unmanned one-way metal gates. I felt like I was entering some sort of compound where they don't care who enters, but the exits are strictly guarded.

As we stepped across the final fence into Mexico after a short moment of hesitation, we were swarmed by taxi drivers competing with each other to offer us a low price for a ride into town. When we refused, their frustration was apparent as one of them blurted out "Don't be a Jew! It's only a dollar for each of you!" The mood of the store owners catering to tourists ranged from desperation to resignation. Every store and bar we passed, clerks and waiters tried to drag us in and offered us spontaneous discounts. As we walked around town, restaurant owners shoved their menus in our faces, and as we walked away, they would shout things such as "OK, I give you 50% off if you eat here!" Finally settling on a small family owned taqueria a block away from the main tourist area, the owner confided in us that "Business is bad. No one comes here anymore."

After lunch, we decided that there was not much to do here, so we went to a bar to sit for a beer before leaving. We chose the Iguana Ranas, a large touristy bar on the second floor of an entertainment complex in the centre of the action on Avenida Revolución. We can't help but notice that the only other patrons we encountered there were a Latino couple who left shortly after we arrived. Considering that this was late Saturday afternoon, I was surprised that there was no one else at this very large bar. From the patio, the fence separating the city of Tijuana and the empty expanse on the American side of the border was clearly visible. It looked as if the city had been chopped off with a giant cleaver, the crowded buildings ending abruptly at the fence. As we left, we were relieved that we were going to go back, and disappointed we did not get to see Tijuana at its best.

On the way to the border, we noticed a side street that seemed to have quite a bit of activity. Following this, we discovered an area a few blocks away from the strip, away from where the majority of tourists spend their time. This area was very different. Centred around the beautiful Cathedral De Guadalupe, the buildings are a bit less grand, the stores are a bit smaller and carried wares other than only generic souvenirs. Best of all, there were street vendors. This is the Tijuana that I had wanted to see and was expecting. We saw no tourists here, but the area was bustling with people carrying shopping bags filled with food and other necessities.

We wandered around here for a while trying out the street food. I tried nance for the first time from a street vendor that didn't speak English. Even though this strange fruit tasted like rotting cheese, I bought a cup as I felt obligated when she gave me one of the nace berries after I pointed to it inquisitively. I ended up giving this cup of berries to a family sitting by the side of the street whose children were selling Chicklets. I also bought a cup of horchata from a street vendor with a cart, and handing over a 20 peso bill, I got back two Mexican peso coins and three American dimes as change, which shows how important tourists from the US are to the economy of this area. This is what we did for a while, trying interesting snacks, fruits, and drinks. We bought more than we could eat, so after a taste, I gave what I had left to beggars. This way, I get to try a variety of things, help the street vendors with my purchases, and help hungry beggars by giving them food. That's three birds with one stone.

As we left Tijuana at the end of dusk, I can't help but feel a sense of relief that we have the privilege of running away from the problems this area is facing. It was a very strange feeling to see how much of a difference there was from one side of the wall to the other. Although I used to see Tijuana as an empty city propped up by tourism, by the end of this visit, I saw that Tijuana clearly had a soul of its own, and it is still going strong even without that help of rich foreign tourists. Although Tijuana is known for it's sleaze, it still possesses that warm, personal soul of a comfortable, magical city even during the recent problems, as long as you know where to look.

Tijuana feels abandoned by its rich finicky neighbour to the north, and I hope in the future things will change. I hope that instead of avoiding the problem like how everyone is avoiding Tijuana, these recent problems promote closer cooperation between the US and Mexico to bring tourism back to Tijuana and the people who depend on them. In the meantime however, Tijuana will have to ride out some tough times. I thought the vendor at the last shop we stopped at summed up the situation perfectly. As we were leaving his store, he called to us "Come on! Buy something! Take your time! Just look around, I don't have anything else to do all day."

Ocean Beach

I had some extra time today so I decided to Ocean Beach in San Francisco. I've been living in the Bay Area for a year and a half now, and in the city for about half a year. I've always wanted to see Ocean Beach, but just didn't really get an opportunity yet as I'm always busy with something during the weekends. Not today though. I had a Sunday to myself which I decided to use for a trip to Ocean Beach, the library, and some shopping.

It was quite chilly when I stepped outside, and windy. I thought to myself what bad luck with the weather. The day I decide to go to Ocean Beach, it is cold and windy. I hopped onto the 22 bus from 16th and Mission, just outside of my apartment, and transferred to the N line trams, which passed through Irving Street and passed very close to one my my favourite places to go for chicken wings - San Tung.

As we got closer to the beach, I saw the blue choppy waves in the distance. The surroundings were becoming less bustling as we passed through some residential districts. At the end of the line, I got off the tram, and crossing the street, arrived at the large grass covered dunes separating the beach from the rest of San Francisco.

I was greeted by an unusual sight. The wind was much stronger at the beach. Sand was being blown over the dunes and onto the road just behind it, creating a mini sandstorm reflecting the light from the headlights travelling through the dusty haze. As I walked through a gap in the dunes, my face felt like it was being sandblasted and I had to keep my eyes shut most of the time.

The beach was beautiful. It was a surprisingly wide and flat swath of sand littered with patches of pebbles, driftwood, and the occasional jellyfish as big as a dinner plate. It stretched up north about two kilometres from where I was standing to the Seal Rocks, with the white foamy sea furiously beating against its steep black cliffs, and the Cliff House perched precariously on the edge of a rocky outcropping. To the south, I can see rolling hills in the distance, green from the recent winter rains, but I can't see where the beach comes to an end. As I enjoyed the scenery, I played a game of leaning my back into the wind coming from the ocean to see how far back I can lean without falling over.

What really make this trip interesting and make me decide to write about it was the curious effects of the wind. I didn't stay long as it wasn't really that enjoyable due to the chill and the violent lashings from the stronger gusts, but the wind did produce an effect which I had not seen before. The wind was ripping the small foamy heads off of the cresting waves and scraping them along the beach. As some of the water was also being blown up the beach, there was a thin layer of water for the foam to slide on extending twenty to thirty metres from where the water actually ended, creating a second, false shore. Large ripples and waves of foam were being created and animated by the wind starting from water and ending up at and collecting at the false shore in large chunks. Once in a while, a strong gust of wind would rip apart such a collection, and pieces of the foam would race up the beach. As they were scraped along the sand, they would shrink in size until the popped out of existence. It was rather like watching a meteor storm that was happening in the sand below your feet rather than in the sky above your head.

This was the highlight of my day (yeah, I know, kind of a slow day) and I thought it was a great show which was surprisingly difficult to capture on camera. After a while however, I had to head back to get away from the wind and and cold to spend the rest of my day picking up fresh fruit from the local farmer's markets and books from the library.

Banff and Calgary - Day 6 (Epilogue)

We woke up at the unearthly time of 5:30 in the morning. This was especially bad for me, considering that having stayed on Pacific time, it was like waking up at 4:30 in the morning for me, which is not that much later than when I go to bed on the weekends.

Standing outside with my pack waiting for Kevin to get the car from the back, I stared up at the cold, crisp night sky filled with glimmering stars. The ground was covered in a layer of snow glistening dimly from nearby streetlights and the pale glow from the stars and the tiny sliver of a new moon. On this first day of December, I can feel winter is starting to arrive. As I played with making my breath into clouds of different shapes and sizes, I reflected on how I will miss the feeling of winter playfully nipping at my face. I also reflected on my long weekend trip, and felt quite satisfied with the amount of adventuring I fit into four days. I met a variety of characters who shared with me their differing views on life, explored strange cities and had seen some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. I have also come away with a newfound respect for nature and a sense that nothing is permanent so we must learn to enjoy all the positives in our lives in the current moment rather than dwell on the negative and look forward to better times.

We chatted a bit more during the drive to the airport on the empty lonely roads of early morning. As the plane took off I was treated to an areal view of where the Canadian Rockies collides with the Canadian Prairies, forming a massive straight line of folds followed by jagged peaks for as far as the eye can see. The sunlight was just hitting the top of the snowy peaks as we flew across the border back into the US. There was an amazing view of Mount Rainier, which I was surprised to see from as far south as California. On the final approach, I was treated to a beautiful view of a thick layer of fog folding and rippling around the Californian coastline and the San Francisco Bay. This was a great, relaxing way to end a vacation. However, I felt a shudder of mundane familiarity by the thought that I would be in the office at work in less than an hour.

Banff and Calgary - Day 5 (Part 2)

After brunch, I continued my walk around. I crossed Louise Bridge into downtown and followed a pretty park trail that follows the Bow River. The downtown core was clearly visible just outside the park, but it was like a separate world inside, with joggers, families spending time together, tourists with large cameras, trees, bridges to portions of the park on islands, and signs warning of coyotes. I walked though Eau Claire Market, which was in the trendy Eau Claire district. There were some cool shops and whatnot, but nothing that's worth mentioning individually. After Eau Claire, I walked through the very impressive Calgary Chinese Cultural Centre. It is a large brick building where the centre portion rises into a dramatic pagoda. On both the inside and outside, the pagoda is very meticulously decorated with paintings and colourful wooden beams, just like any of the large historical pagodas you can see in China. This pagoda atrium connected to different offices and rooms on multiple floors, and there was even a theatre from which the sounds of a Southern Chinese opera was emanating and floating up to fill the entire atrium. After marvelling at this unexpectedly majestic building, I ducked into the downtown core of Calgary where I was determined to explore the +15 system, their vast system of sky bridges connecting the buildings of the downtown core.

Seeing a +15 sign, I walked up and pulled on the door handle. It was locked! It turns out that most of the office buildings that the +15 is connected to are locked during weekends and holidays, which is not the case for the underground PATH system back home in Toronto that I was so familiar with. For the next half an hour, I wandered around town pushing and tugging on any doors that I felt had even a remote chance at granting me access to the +15. I passed through bustling Chinatown shopping centres to post-apocalyptic scenes of streets surrounded by looming office towers abandoned for the weekend. I went though dozens of doors and up and down many stairs trying to find my way into the +15 system. It felt like I was inside a computer game where I had to find the one open door to get to the next level. Just as I was about to give up, I found a way into the +15 system through an entrance to an underground parking garage.

Although the +15 system is not as large and Toronto's PATH or Montreal's RÉSO, I found it much more modern looking and futuristic. This was enhanced by the glowing electronic signs at all the doors advising you of the direction you are travelling in. At nearly all of the junctions, there are large round electronic podiums with touch screens with which search for your destination and scroll and zoom around the map. If you type in where you want to go, these podiums will plot a path for you. The system was also filled with automatic doors that open for you when you approach and close right after you pass through to prevent too much airflow between the buildings. It felt very futuristic to be walking between the lobbies of the large buildings through glass corridors carrying you above the traffic and the occasional park below. From these corridors, you can see a line of similar sky bridges stretching down the street, some of them towering up to three floors in height when connecting busy shopping centres! I was also extremely impressed by how clean the corridors, and the city as a whole is, which earned Calgary the distinction of being named the cleanest city on Earth by Forbes Magazine.

After exploring some of the nooks and crannies of the +15 system, I made my way to the Devonian Gardens. The Devonian Gardens is a large indoor park on the upper floors of the buildings connecting the busy Calgary Eaton Centre and the Hudson's Bay Company. The lower floors contain a bustling multilevel shopping centre stretching over three continuous blocks. Unfortunately for me, the gardens were closed for renovations, so I peeked through the windows and saw lush vegetation, paths, and small streams. It must be great for the office workers there to have such a beautiful place of serenity within a few minutes from their cubicles. If I worked in the downtown area, I would probably eat lunch there at least once or twice a week.

Since I was not able to see the Devonian Gardens, I walked to the adjacent Stephen Avenue Mall, a wide pedestrian street in the middle of downtown Calgary surrounded by shops and restaurants. This looks like it would be a great place to spend a day when it is warm outside.

Eventually, I wandered into the Calgary Tower, and although I was not originally planning to go up it, I decided that it was still early and I didn't have anything better to go. This turned out to be a great decision, as I really enjoyed the view from the top. For one thing, you can get a bird's eye view of all the major attractions in the Calgary area from the top of the tower. I enjoyed an interesting section that protruded out from the tower where the walls and floors were all glass so that you felt like you were hovering in mid-air. However, what I found most interesting was that from the top of the tower, one can clearly see the vast, flat landscape of the Canadian prairies. From that vantage point, the City of Calgary, and especially the downtown core looks like it just springs up in a vast expanse of emptiness, much like a patch of mushrooms after a spring shower, which all of a sudden made me feel very far from the rest of society, as this city appeared to me as a lone metropolis in a sea of emptiness. It was a very humbling and unsettling feeling that nature can just easily take over this city without its citizens fighting together for their existence. I wondered what will happen to Calgary after the Alberta oil boom is over. The view to the west was just as gorgeous, as one can see in the distance a jagged impenetrable wall rising abruptly from the flat terrain forming the Canadian Rockies. The soft orange-yellow hue of the sun getting low in the sky made the entire scene appear extraordinarily beautiful, but excruciatingly lonely and unsettling at the same time. I sat there for a while just enjoying the scenery and reflecting on the thought that our existence is much more fragile and at the mercy of nature than I had previously thought.

After the tower, I took the tram south and walked to the Mission District from the Stampede Grounds. There were some good views of the city along this walk. The Mission is a trendy neighbourhood with a lot of small shops, restaurants and bars. I feel that I would be very happy to live here. I noticed that there were a lot of French speakers around here as well as the city in general. I was eventually surprised to find that Calgary is surprisingly diverse, and that over 12% of the city's residents has French ancestry, which was only the 7th largest group in terms of ethnic origin.

Although I was very attracted to some of the restaurants and bars in the area, I decided to continue on as it was starting to get dark. Following Kevin's prescribed route, I walked into a residential neighbourhood and started going up icy, slippery hills. I came across a mysteriously narrow path leading into some bushes which were reduced to bunches of thin sticks for the winter. I decided to follow it. After a short hike, I found myself at the crest of a hill. Looking down, I saw a network of trails and a sea of buildings below me, which was very pretty against the setting sun.

Returning to my original path, I walked to Hillcrest, where I was greeted by a spectacular view of the downtown core. Apparently others have also taken note of this view, as the area was filled with large mansions and estates, including an extraordinarily large castle-looking manor flying the Union Jack.

I eventually made my way back to Kevin's apartment through some treacherously slippery and steep hills and roads. After dinner and hanging out for a while, we went to sleep early as I had to wake up to catch a 7:30 flight to work the next morning, and Kevin had graciously agreed to drive me to the airport.