The African Trophy Room

I can't say I've ever really seen a trophy room. If you asked me to define a trophy room I'd tell you it would be an ornately decorated room consisting of gold chalice looking structures mounted on fine wood with engravings to commemorate a specific accomplishment. There would be autographed memorabilia and large medals framed and hung on a wall.
The African trophy room is designed to commemorate great accomplishments as well but the artifacts that fill the African trophy room, well those are a bit more...bulky.
The Nesbit Castle in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe hosts an impressive trophy room filled with alligators, impala, leopards, elephants, warthogs, zebra, and a 25 foot long python skin. Now that redefines a trophy room.

Watch Your Step

Yes, that's a zebra skin carpet I have in my bedroom. Welcome to Zimbabwe.

The Dark Continent

There's one road that will get us back to the entrance on Gona Rezhou conservancy. This road happened to be occupied by a heard of wild elephant. Some were off to the side looking for food but one male, a particularly large male of an already massive species, appeared to be the gate keeper for this road. Our vehicle rounded a bend to find him staring at us with two bayonet tusks and flat ears that he flexed to signal a warning. "Thomas, I think you need to reverse now" said Lin in a rather calm voice. Our guide, Thomas, pulled off a safari style 3 point turn and headed back the way we came. Meanwhile mr. Elephant let out a mean roar and toppled over nearby bush to let us know we weren't welcome. We parked hidden by some bush and waited to see what the elephant would do. He trotted along the road and ended up parallel to us and turned his back. Time to go. Thomas spun around and crept behind the already agitated elephant. We were spotted. Mr. Elephant let out another roar, put his head down to begin his charge. The other elephants noticed our altercation and also roared a harmonious "get the hell out of here!" We sped along the dirt road and the elephant charge desisted. Crisis averted.
It's amazing how the world can change in 17 hours. I was hoping I wouldn't have to fly everywhere I wanted to go but man, what a time machine those things are. I sifted through the Asian invasion at Bangkok airport and stood in line at the Ethiopian Airline counter ready to embark on a new part of the world. The city was dark and I was exhausted so I fell asleep before the plane even left the gate. I opened my eyes to a star spotted sky and guessed that we must be sailing somewhere over the Indian Ocean. I fell back asleep only to be awoken when breakfast was served. The sun was just coming up as we touched down in Ethiopia. I stepped onto the runway and felt a chill come over my body. Well it gets chilly in Africa. Who would have guessed!
One flight, two flights and there I was in Harare, Zimbabwe. I traded in the smelly streets, lady boys, tuk tuks, hagglers, rice and noodles for the dark continent. I got my bag and stepped out the front door of Harare airport and into the low afternoon sun. "Hahaha, and now I'm in Africa," I thought to myself. What a trip.

What Goes Up

There was only one way out of Chiang Mai. Not the 15 hour train like you may have guessed but instead an 18 hour train back down to Bangkok. I slept better this time but my back was broken from the consecutive sedentary train trips. One of the perks of Bangkok, $7 non-sexual Thai massages. The kind where a little Asian lady walks on your back and cracks your toes. I'm forever loyal to my chiropractor and massage therapist back home but for the time being, the little Asian lady did the trick.

Chiang Mai

The next day I jumped on an overnight train to a town that the old empower used to live in. The train was an overnight because it took almost 15 hours to get there. And when I arrived, well I saw much of the same old shit. Don't get me wrong, Buddhist Wats (temples) are ornate and well maintained and usually have a magnificent oversized gold Buddha inside but after the third or fourth one they start to lose their appeal. That's why day 2 in Chiang Mai I decided to splurge and get out of the city. I signed up for a day trek with a tour company along the edge of a national park. What really sold me was the elephant rides.
I can't say I've ever seen an elephant so to be able to ride one was quite an experience. It was one of those times where I stepped out of the van and started laughing to myself. "A fucking elephant!" What a massive and strange looking creature. I had to buy a hand of bananas from the local women to feed Matu, as my lady elephant was called. When Matu found out I was packing snacks she would constantly stop and swing her trunk over her head and point it at my face like a giant bazooka and wait for me to feed her. It started to annoy me after a while. She was like an arcade game that would pause until you fed it more coins. I can't stop the game mid ride Matu. Pay to play I suppose.
Just when my thighs were starting to hurt from straddling Matu's neck, the ride was over and the trek continued. This time to a rural village where women would sit at their looms weaving scarves and blankets. The people in this village were quite poor and it felt strange walking through their homes snapping pictures of them on my iPhone while they walk barefoot around their straw huts. I looked at it as a cultural experience that needed to be documented. I also bought some bracelets off the local kids. As if my 10 baht is really going to make a difference.
Next stop was a rafting trip. Not your typical rapids and certainly not your typical raft. Ten bamboo shoots were fastened together with thin strips of an old car tire and, well, that was it. A glorified stream was our rapids and one of the local boys stood on the bow and guided us along with yet another long bamboo shoot. More of a punting experience than rafting but a good time none-the-less.
I made it home in time for supper at the night bazaar with a couple hostel goers and chalked the 24th of April up as a win.

The Morning Commute

Some drive to work, others take the various means of public transportation, and then there are the crazy health nuts that walk or ride their bikes. In Bangkok, people do none of the above.
Being built alongside a large, filthy river, many Bangkokians (made up word) take the river taxi to work. Ferries run every fifteen minutes or so heading up and downstream to various ports in the city.
Accompanied by my hostel friend, Bell, we took our briefcases and chai lattes on board to go tour Bangkok via boat. This is some of the shit we saw.

Ever Illusive