Category Archives: Central America

Got Lava?

11 Friday Mar 2011

Posted by in Guatemala

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Preparing to hike up Volcan Pacaya

This was my second visit to Guatemala, though almost exactly two years ago, my stay was for a mere 24 hours before I headed south to Honduras.  This trip, was to be quite different.  To start with, I have far less resources and therefore less time before I’ll have to head home to find another job (I got laid off from TravelPost in January).  Also, my boyfriend Arnaud is with me for the first eight days, which has required some tricky route planning to ensure we both get the most out of the visit, without too much backtracking on my part.

After our week sojourn in Paris and the UK, I was happy to re-discover the joys of what I like to call “reverse jet-lag”.  Opposed to the painful experience of forcing oneself to get up when it feels like its time to go to sleep, aka US-Europe travel, one feels instead as though one has had a good long night of partying, and is returning home in the wee hours of the morning vastly well-prepared to snooze away till the late afternoon.  It’s a piece of cake for me, especially being the night owl that I am.

Emerging from one of the steaming "caves"

So one hour after grabbing a cab to Antigua from the airport, we wearily fell easily asleep in our comfortable double room at the Casa Amarillo.  We awoke refreshed around 7am and partook of the tremendous breakfasts on offer included in the price: porridge, pancakes, eggs, potatoes, black beans, fruit and delicious Guatemalan coffee.  We spent the morning happily wandering around Antigua’s lovely stone cobbled streets, taking in the many “ruins”, left that way not because they are ancient Mayan relics, but rather because Antigua has been repeatedly ravaged by earthquakes.

That afternoon we decided to tackle the steep slopes of Pacaya, a volcano about an hour from Antigua which unfortunately (for us as tourists that is) was no longer spewing red hot lava since its eruption in May of 2010.  We were met by at least 20 small children clamoring to sell us their handmade walking “sticks”, overwhelming in the sense that even if I had wanted to buy a walking stick, I would have relented due to being unable to choose whom to buy one from.

Unfortunately, we couldn't go all the way to the summit

Our guide, Arturo, a rail-thin but ever smiling man in his 40’s described how he and his family took refuge in their home’s basement as man-sized boulders rained from the sky, emerging later to discover their house was rubble.  Despite the hardship that the volcano inflicted upon him (especially since he essentially lost his job in the months following the eruption when all tours were cancelled) Arturo still proudly declared that he had the best job in the world: guiding people to the top of Pacaya twice a day, seven days a week.

Despite the lack of lava, the scenery was impressive and other-worldly: the path the lava had taken was clearly visible in the black, now hardened, river of solid rock.  There were a few areas that were “venting”, small caves that one could climb inside and feel cocooned by the sauna-like heat coming from the heart of the mountain.  Unfortunately, the summit was still about 200m out of our reach, so after a few hour ascent, we bid goodbye and made our way back.

After an authentic Guatemalan meal of Chile Rellenos (Peppers stuffed with meat and spices), we happily fell fast asleep from all the physical exertion.

Then again, maybe it was the reverse jet-lag.

The next adventure begins

03 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by in Guatemala

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So.  After several frustrating attempts at migrating my 12 year old blog over from blogger to WordPress, I’m finally here and ready to embark on a new travel adventure in Central America.

The look and feel of the blog is by no means finished; I am in “learning” mode and need all the help I can get!

 

Epilogue

17 Wednesday Jun 2009

Posted by in Central America, Panama

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I always start with the best of intentions to write a summary of my travels once I’m home. Something about the return to the familiar surroundings of reality usually squishes any creative impulse left in me to write; its as if the inspiration created by the constantly new stimuli fades away leaving nothing but…despair.

Yes. The culture shock of coming home is bad. All who have traveled for an extensive period of time are aware of this. Well. Let me tell you: it is made even worse by 1 – not having a job or significant other to come home to, and 2 – not having a crowd of people ready to throw you a “welcome home party”.

I was not even enthused significantly when I discovered that I had passed the CFP examination that I had been studying so hard for, during the months leading up to the trip.

Or worse yet: friends who’ve had you off their radar for so long they won’t even answer your wall-to-wall on Facebook.

As you can tell, I am sad to be home. And I’m going to need a lot of encouragement if I’m going to finally put pen to paper (figuratively of course) and make this blog into a book which I’ve been talking about writing for at least ten years, and still have done nothing about.

So, a conclusion of sorts to my time in Central & South America. That’s what I’ve been asked to write. Ok. I think I only have the strength to do this in list format. So, here goes:

1 – What were your favorite things about Central America?

– Its always warm enough to throw on a tank top, shorts, and a pair of flip flops.

– The men will ALWAYS remind you that you are a sexy, desirable, woman by hollering at you from every possible vantage point.

– People have an incredibly apparent sense of community and family. They stop and talk to each other on the street (forget Facebook!) They offer rides to each other as they drive down the street. They go out as families in the evening. They all live together under one roof and share everything they own. They take care of their elders.

– It seemed perfectly normal to be drinking beer at 10 o’clock in the morning.

– Oh! 50c beers! Ladies drink for free!

– Less than 40 feet of visibility seemed like a good reason not to go diving. (WHAT was I thinking??)

– Chicken buses with blaring music and a strobe light on the ceiling!

– Volcanoes

– Same power outlet voltages as back home

– Lots of adrenaline activities to try out – white water rafting/kayaking, canyoning, zip-lining canopy…

– No one is in a hurry to DO ANYTHING

Things I hated about Central America:

– No one is in a hurry to DO ANYTHING

– Each time you past a roadside store, restaurant and shop, it would be a requirement for there to be at least two stray dogs, and at least one, if not several crying, underclothed children.

– The idea of buying fast food fried chicken, and the speed at which it would happen is the equivalent to placing an order with God on a slip of paper.

– Forget trying to complain. About anything. Ever.

– Trash, everywhere…especially plastic bottles. People throw trash into rivers, and out of the windows of moving vehicles.

– Can’t order ice with your drink, or drink tap water anywhere except Panama City.

– Rice and beans does not constitute a good breakfast food item.

– If you sit down to order a meal in a restaurant, the wait staff will quickly think of ways to actively ignore you, for fear they might be required to actually do some work

– Chicken buses. That do not cater to the leg length of any individuals past Grade 8.

– “Is it safe?” is a question you have to leave behind in the hotel room.

– What were your favorite things about Peru and Bolivia?

– When my mountain guide told me how beautiful I was. And then proceeded to explain how all foreign women are SO BEAUTIFUL.

– Vast, breathtaking altiplano expanses.

– The incredible Andes mountains with their jagged snow capped peaks which begged me to climb them, altitude sickness be damned!

– Coca leaves. Observing what an active part of the culture they play. How chewing is as socially acceptable among friends as meeting for a drink is back home. How black it made everyone’s teeth.

– Llamas. And Alpacas. How cute they were. And how tasty!

– Inca Kola. How yellow it was. How popular it was- way more than Coca Cola.

– How almost every conversation, with every traveller you met, started with: “So, where are you from? Where are you travelling? Where are you going next/where’ve you been? How long are you going to be away?”

– How many conversations I had that last more than a few hours, at which point I realized that I didn’t know the person’s name.

– Ordering a meal which includes cocktails, wine, steak, and dessert for under $10!

– Things I hated about travelling in South America:

– Hostels that have become overrun with groups of Israeli backpackers, who clearly did not leave their country to experience any other culture other than their own.

– Paying for toilets. And the “whammy” system (which usually came out as just one whammy). Single whammy – toilet was clean enough to stomach using. Double – it had toilet paper. Triple – there was hand soap (which usually moved me to tears), and finally, Quadruple whammy – when you didn’t have to pay for it!!

– Long overnight bus journeys that contained every human endurance test known: Blaring loud violent movies to sleep through, temperatures ranging from a modern convection oven to the arctic. Seats that lovingly promised to recline which then failed to. Seats so large you bounced around in them like a ball in a ping pong machine. Death by Pan Flute music. All night. Creepy, secluded bus stations full of a few people who will hound you as you sleepily stumble off of the bus at 3:30 in the morning.

– How there are basically two directions you can travel through Peru and Bolivia in…and for a while, how each time I met somebody really cool that I could hang with- they would be travelling in the opposite direction to me.

– How you could never let your bags out of your sight. Even in Public bathrooms…hauling your backpack into the stall with you, being hardly unable to close the door!

– Never getting used to the altitude, past Cusco. I was always huffing to walk up a steep street. Knowing that people here are just born with a different lung capacity to my own.

In any case…I had a fantastic journey, which I must now turn into a book.

In summary:

Days away from home -76
Separate flights flown – 13
Countries visited – 7
Number of friends connected with on Facebook -24
Number of men I kissed – 3
Days spent at altitude -36
Days spent on bikes – 3
Archaeological sites visited – 5
Days I got up before 5am -12 (!!!!)
Days spent on buses (entirely) -11
Days spent in the jungle -5
Days spent in cities -19
Days of diving – 1
Days of snorkeling – 7
Days on tropical beaches -13
Nights in a tent under the stars – 6
Days spent hiking or climbing a mountain – 17 (!!!!)
Nights spent on overnight buses – 5
Religious festivals observed – 3

AND….number of first things attempted!

-Canopy “zip lining”
– Canyoning
-Riding a scooter
– Eating Alpaca/Llama
– Sand buggy/boarding
– Climbing a 20,000 foot mountain
– Going to a wrestling match
– Biking down the “world’s most dangerous road”

Panama Adventure II

03 Wednesday Jun 2009

Posted by in Costa Rica, Panama

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I am sitting in an Internet cafe in Alajuela, a tiny town north of San Jose that is just a five minute cab ride from the International Airport. At 8am tomorrow, I will board the first of three planes bound for Seattle. What an incredible journey and experience it has been. I plan to write an epilogue of sorts when I get home (I’m sure I’ll have more perspective then too!) but for now, here is the last week of my time in the beautiful country of Panama.

I last left you in the mountain town of Boquette, as I was de–Bocasing and coming down from the high of constant sun and parties. Boquette was a very quiet town. And quite chilly and rainy. Sadness! However, saying that, it really was beautiful and surrounded by lush cloud forest and Volcan Baru…the highest point in Panama. It was also famous for its whitewater, and Abraham and I decided to do a raft trip for the following day.

The alarm sounded at 6am, and we dragged ourselves out of bed to ready for the big day. I was very very sleepy, but the sight of extremely hot rafting guides in the van soon woke me up. he he. It was a two hour ride to the river, which we were told was in peak condition, for it was well into the rainy season, making some of the class IV rapids more like Class IV.5ish…. We’ll see!

The trip turned out to be very thrilling indeed. This was probably my sixth or seventh experience doing this, but I can honestly say I’ve never been through water this rough before. There were definitely moments where if you fell out of the boat you would have to kiss your own sweet ass goodbye. Curtains. Abraham did fall out of the boat, but luckily it was not in one of those places. It all happened so fast, and I went to move over to drag him back in the raft but found myself pinned down by the guy in front who had also fallen over by the ferocity of the water. Once all were safe and back in the boat, it was all a bit funny.

We were well and truly smashed by the end of the 3 hour long trip which included several portages and a lot of very heavy paddling. Lots of fun though, and once I had gotten more used to the constant rapids (there was no waiting between them like I’d found floating on other rivers, the thrills just kept on coming) I was able to relax a little more and just enjoy it.

By the time we got back into town, we both needed a nap which was glorious. Then we decadently returned to Boquette Bistro, and this time fell upon the Baked Brie and Chicken Teriyaki. Yum.

On our second day in Boquette I was starting to have difficulties deciding on my next travel destination. I had heard that Santa Catalina was a pretty coastal town that offered access to some of the best diving in Central America at Isla de Coiba. However, communication with the scuba company, or indeed any hoteliers down there was proving fruitless. On top of that, I was told it was an epic 8 hour journey there. Abraham and the girls were leaving for Panama City on the overnight bus, and if I went with them, I would have just enough time to visit the islands of the Comarca de Kuna Yale and the city before needing to come back to San Jose. It was either Coiba or the islands. Once I found out that a two tank dive was going to cost me $140 plus two days of travel time…I opted to head out that night to David and on to Panama City.

Trying to decide what to do that day, we stumbled across a place that rented scooters, and they looked like they would be a cheaper (not to say more fun) option for visiting some of the local waterfalls and hikes in the area. Abraham was very excited to try them, and since I could barely stay upright as I tried to drive one down a side street, we agreed that he would drive and I would be the passenger. We donned cute little helmets, filled the tanks with $2 of gas..and off we went into the hills to explore.

This was another “first””. I love doing things for the first time, and the scooters were a blast to ride and offered a unique perspective on the countryside around us. Abraham was loving the speed and corners, that is, until we were faced with giant hills where the tiny little engines sounded like they were issuing their last dying breath and at one point we were forced to dismount and push. Miraculously, we found the trail head to a 2 hour hike the owner of our hostel had recommended. It was a very pretty walk and I was enjoying the effortless way I seemed to be climbing uphill with the abundant oxygen in the air.

Driving back down to town I was determined to give “holding the reins” by driving the damn scooter myself another try. We fell about laughing as I crashed and burned several times, screaming along the way because there was a semi coming. At one point, Abraham had to reach over me and grab the brakes because we were “going down”. But I was determined and after learning to trust the bike itself (kind of like riding a push bike for the first time) I managed to drive all the way back to town, switching before traffic got too intense. Thank you for putting your life in my hands, Abraham!!

Heading back to the rental place, the heavens opened and pelted rain upon us. We got completely drenched, whereas our friends, who were five minutes ahead of us, stayed high and dry. But we’d had a great time.

We were to be on the 7pm bus to David, the second largest city in Panama, and then the overnight bus which was leaving at midnight. It was going to be a long night. David was by far one of the roughest cities I’d had the misfortune to spend a few hours in on this trip. Abraham and I walked around for hours looking for any restaurant that might be open, and we were told that everything was shut because it was…wait for it…8:30pm! Date night in David must be really hot and heavy. Eventually, after walking through dark rainy streets which looked like the perfect hangout for gang activity, we happened across a semi decent Chinese place before heading back to the terminal.

How I dislike overnight buses. This one turned out to be not so bad, actually. Somehow, having a seat which didn’t really recline very much helped me to fall asleep. Before it had felt like five minutes, we pulling into the bus station in the capital at 5:45am. Dazed and confused, we muddled out and got in a taxi bound for Casco Viejo, the older part of the city where the hostel Abraham had stayed at before was located: Luna’s Castle. Since beds weren’t ready yet, and Abraham was leaving that afternoon for Colombia, I offered to take him out for a final breakfast together before I made the most of the morning by visiting the Panama Canal. We found the best little cafe and ordered a slamming breakfast of fresh bread, eggs, bacon and goooooooood coffee for $4 each. It was fantastic, especially after that bus journey. I was very sad to see my Dutch friend leave, but he promised to meet up with me, maybe this year, and go diving together in the Red Sea….which I will hold him to!

I grabbed a cab and headed to the world famous waterway, trying to get there for 9am because that was when the big ships usually passed through. It was all rather fascinating though I was a little disappointed not to see any big cruise ships coming through. On top of that, my ex Jonathan, musician extraordinaire had only just finished his gig aboard Princess cruises and had been transiting the canal over the last several months and we’d missed each other by a few weeks. That would have been fun…to wave at him from the cafeteria as he stood on one of the ship’s balconies. Kind of like when we met up in Civvitavechia, hey Jonny?? 😉

I watched two ships pass through the Miraflores locks, one a container ship and the other an oil tanker. Seeing how little clearance the vessels have on either side is really astonishing, and how many people it takes to guide the ships through without hiccup. I really enjoyed the museum exhibits too which detailed future plans for two new sets of locks which would allow for much wider ships..up to 56 metres instead of the current 38 (gee, I hope I got that right…?) They also had a display on all of the bugs of Panama, and displayed dead samples of some of the largest and ugliest beetles, spiders, stick insects, crickets and moths.

By the time I got back to the hostel, my dorm bed was ready for me, and Abraham was still there with a fresh new hair cut. I gave him the gift I’d bought him at the canal…an emergency rain jacket, after what had happened on the last afternoon in Boquette. I bid my adieu, and then took a very needed shower and nap, hanging out in the hostel for the afternoon, arranging my trip for the next morning to head to San Blas (Comarca de Kuna Yale) and more Caribbean Paradise…

The Kuna are an indigenous people in Panama and have retained autonomy from Panamanian government and basically self govern. I was looking forward to seeing them and their beautiful costumes…the women in particular have a distinct look: short hair with a headscarf, lots of gold jewellery, layered very colorful print clothing, and most notably, large and ornate jewellery for the legs which cover from the ankle to the knee. I would be staying on an island called Senidup which was going to be a 90 minute boat ride from the Carti Airport where I flew into.

The flight I booked was only $40 (I didn’t know how long I was going to stay so I decided I would probably take the jeep option back to the city) and originally was scheduled to leave at 6am. So you can imagine my relief when I received an email stating that it would be delayed until 10! Yay!

I was meeting two friends that I’d made in Bocas del Toro on Isla Senidup. The transfer there went pretty smoothly but on arrival, I came to be informed by my friends that despite the fact that the island itself was only the size of a football field, there were two owners of two distinct set of huts. Turns out, I had reserved the huts on the wrong side of the island… No problem, right? Well, apparently, the two owners have kind of a war going on between them, and during my 3 day stay, it felt very much like I was in an episode of Lost, and I was one of the “Others”, because the two groups of backpackers staying on either side didn’t seem to mingle that well. Given the size of the island, it was a little ridiculous.

As was what happened when I first got there. Explaining to the owner that I wanted to stay with my friends on the other side of the island, he got very agitated and started demanding that I pay, and at one point, he and his 3 buddies had me cornered in a straw hut screaming about money and threatening to throw my bags in the ocean. The fact that this was supposed to be the idyllic paradise “get away from it all” island didn’t seem to be applying to my first encounter here. It turned out just to be a language mix up because all they had wanted was for me to pay for my boat transfer, which was easily accomplished by handing over $7. Phew.

Those 3 days were a very strange, wonderful and unique experience. I’ve visited many incredibly isolated and beautiful islands in my life…but I’ve never stayed on one that was this basic and untouched. And it was so cheap..one of the cheapest things I’ve done in my entire 3 months. The price was $20 a night for your hut, including breakfast, lunch and dinner! The days consisted of sleeping in till about 9am, walking around barefoot everywhere (even the straw huts had a sandy floor), eating meals in the communal straw hut, reading in hammocks looking over the crystal blue waters, snorkeling around the island’s reef about twice a day, sunbathing, napping, drinking, taking another swim, chatting to other travellers, playing cards, another nap…you get the picture? That first day I also took a day trip over to Isla Perros and had the distinct joy of snorkeling an artificial reef created by a shipwreck of a vessel that had the sense to sink in 20 feet of water. It was incredible and the visibility was great as was the variety of the fish.

It was a really relaxing time and I enjoyed the company of my fellow islanders muchly, especially Katherine and Fabio (who owned a restaurant in Casco Viejo which they invited me to come visit when I got back to the city) and a Brit named Gabi who, like me, escaped England to go work abroad in Austria 8 years ago. She especially liked my singing, and in the evenings, I would become a human jukebox and sing songs on the beach around a fire as we listened to the only other sound which was the waves lapping the shore. Of course you all know how much I must have hated that. 🙂

The afternoons on the island also brought thundershowers. It was a unique place to watch the lightning, especially in the evening when it lit up the entire sky. On my last morning there, we had a violent thunderstorm about 3am which lit up the whole island like it was daylight. Rain pouring in to my hut woke me up pretty suddenly…I had to switch bunks to avoid getting wet. My friends had left, and I admit to being a little frightened by the power of the thunderclaps which lasted for hours. What a memory though.

The only sad thing that happened during my 3 day stay in Paradise (other than the violent welcome I received) was that I accidentally dipped my camera in the ocean. Oops. It has stopped functioning, and whilst I may still be able to fix it, I am relieved that this happened near the end of my journey and not near the middle. At least my memory card is safe and had lots of pictures taken during the one really good day of weather on Senidup.

That jeep ride home was pretty rough going as we climbed up and over the central mountain range of Panama before arriving back to the Pacific coast and the city. I ran into Gabi back at the hostel and we happily scampered out to grab dinner at Cafe Havana before she got a night bus to Bocas del Toro which was her next destination of choice. We happily chatted over mojitos, ceviche, and Cuban sandwiches…and Gabi tried to convince me to grab my bags and come back with her to Bocas. I must admit that I was very tempted indeed, especially since I had to head back to Costa Rica in any case. However, since I’d already given money to someone to buy me my bus ticket to San Jose and I hadn’t really seen Panama city yet, I reluctantly declined.

In hindsight, I kind of wish I had just gone with her, but then again, it might not have had the same magical appeal as the first visit did, and it would forever alter my perception of it. and the time I had there.

I had two more days in Panama city and I explored. The first day I walked, for miles, around Casco Viejo and took in all the major sights and monuments to a Panama city of yesterday, that is experiencing much investment into renovation and restructuring. In fact, you could generally hear drilling from 7 in the morning from my hostel which made early starts much easier. Right before the afternoon rainy season storm, I grabbed a cab to the bus station (my friend wasn’t able to buy my bus ticket without my passport! So I could have gone to Bocas and not felt bad about that!) and bought my ticket for Tuesday night to San Jose (arriving at 3:30pm the next day) then went to catch a movie and some needed air conditioning. It was hot, hot I tell you!

That night I went to visit Katherine’s restaurant, Indigo, and dined like a princess. The food was amazing, I enjoyed a passion fruit infused ceviche of Sole, followed by fresh baked goat cheese and spinach spanikopita, and topped off with the softest fudge chocolate cake ever and coconut ice cream. And a bottle of wine. Fantastic. At Katherine’s request, I stayed and sang songs too until about 2 in the morning, and developed my Panamanian fan base. They all plotted to keep me there and enter me for Panamanian idol. It was a wonderful night to remember!

My final day I went north for a hike around the Parque Natural Metropolitano and promptly left after 15 minutes and about 1000 mosquito bites! ouch! A cab picked me up and scolded me for walking around the area alone, telling me that it was very dangerous. I agreed, but primarily because of the mosquitoes. I asked to be taken to Ave Balboa, to a spot where I could enjoy a stroll along the water. Of course, I was told. Yeah, my ass. Ave Balboa was completely closed due to construction, and I ended up walking through it to a neighborhood where I could hail another cab, all the while enduring constant whistles and cat calls from the construction workers I passed. I have never in all my travels, met men who felt they had more of a right to vocalize their intentions towards women as I found in Panama city. Nearly every passing car, some guy yelled out to me, sometimes sweet things, other times more vulgar. That’s not counting all of the “Chica“”, “”Amore!”, “Corazon!”” shouts I counted. At times I thought maybe I should be flattered, but the thing is this: the cat calls are not discriminating…they are directed to most all women. Its just an everyday normal thing.

Finally I visited the causeway which joins 4 islands together and has great views of the city, the canal, and the rest of the ocean on the other side. I rented a bike and went for a casual ride, stopping for a delicious lunch of garlic shrimp. After some last minute shopping, I returned to Luna’s, showered, re-packed, ate some sushi and grabbed a cab with my fellow traveller, Sarah, for the international terminal.

That bus ride was a nightmare. They had the air con blasting so much it must have dropped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit. I was wearing every layer I had and burying my face into my sweater to stop my nose icing over. Couldn’t sleep it was so cold. Then we were awoken by the loudest music imaginable at 5am to tell us we were at the border with Costa Rica. The border crossing took 3 and a 1/2 hours because they strip searched our bus for drugs. I’ve never stood around just waiting in the heat for so long, when I was so tired before. What made things worse was my last minute realization that my flight home from San Jose could have been changed to return from Panama City!!! I simply hadn’t considered this as a possibility until the last day, and then I was faced with having to come back to San Jose because I had left 1/2 of my luggage here!! That’s travelling brain for you…where has mine gone I ask you?

I managed to sleep for the next few hours despite the LOUD and horrifically violent movies they seem to always play on buses. We arrived in San Jose and jumped on another bus for Alajuela (the town closest to the airport) and checked into the hotel where I had stashed my things two weeks ago…. After pizza, we came here, I wrote this letter….and now its time to end….go back and pack…..and face the fact that my odyssey has come to a close.

My flight is at 8am tomorrow so I’ll be leaving around 6am. I plan to write an epilogue of sorts on my return and provide some overall observations of my time spent here.

I look forward to seeing many of you in the coming days and weeks!!!

Panama Adventure I

28 Thursday May 2009

Posted by in Panama

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I have changed my flight yet again…for the last time, I think! I fly home on June 4th and am very very sad that my journey is coming to an end. It has been an incredible trip that interestingly has improved as the weeks went by…I feel like I am finally in the groove of travelling, and alas, it is time to return to reality and look for work. Sob.
I last left you on my return from the top of the world after my climb up Huayna Potosi. I spent the next two days in La Paz as I was unable to change my flight to leave earlier to go back to Central America. As it turned out, I really needed the rest. The first day I just slept, got a massage, did email and then spent the afternoon going out with the boys to see the Sunday afternoon locals´entertainment of Cholita´s wrestling. What is a Cholita? It is an indigenous Bolivian woman living in the city who continues to wear traditional dress. It was supposed to be riotous fun.
It was not. I don´t know what had happened on the day that other travellers went, who had recommended this activity to me, but I´m not sure if I could describe it as fun. Public display of female abuse would be a more appropriate description. Whilst the fighting is only supposed to look ¨real¨, the message that it sent to the crowd was extremely disturbing.
We watched as guys fought, as the opening act, and then the first set of Cholitas appeared (one was a dwarf, or is it midget? Can´t remember which is politically correct) and we basically watched them get repeatedly punched, slapped, kicked and beaten to a pulp. At one point, the midget was hit so violently in the skull that fake blood poured down her face. Just as she was cowering and crying in the corner of the ring, the aggressor took one of her pigtails and lit it on fire. It was very disturbing and a bunch of people left. We just kind of sat and stared.
Afterwards, I felt quite tormented. The boys and I took off for a slap up meal which we found at the first restaurant I had visited upon my arrival in La Paz two weeks ago After, to dull the visions of beaten cholitas, we all went to the movies to see Angels and Demons which was a lot of fun. Then we said our goodbyes as the boys were leaving in the morning for Sucre. Ah….alone again! Sniff.
My final day in La Paz took me around the city actually as a tourist for the first time. I visited the Coca museum to learn the history of the leaf that is so negatively viewed back home (source of cocaine production), the Witches Market, strolled down the Prado and visited the Sopacochi neighborhood.
The next day was an epic journey day. I took a cab at 6am to the airport and flew from La Paz to Lima where I had a 2 hour layover before my flight to San Jose. On arrival in San Jose, I took a cab to an airport hotel where I unloaded half of my stuff in storage as I wouldn´t be needing all the winter clothes whilst travelling in the tropics. Back in a cab, we navigated a torrential thunderstorm to get me to the Caribe Terminal where I boarded a 4 hour bus bound for Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, a southerly Caribbean beach town near the border of Panama.
I was absolutely exhausted upon arrival and opted for my own hotel room where I could just take a shower and get some needed rest. I was hounded by some locals as I walked the five blocks to the hotel, and learning how many people were mugged over the next day in Puerto Viejo, I realise now how stupid I was to walk there alone in the dark.
It was very strange to feel the humidity in the air again…and to be able to breathe!! I was back at sea level, and very excited to experience some BEACH.
The following morning I set about deciding if I was going to stay in Puerto Viejo for the day, or if I´d catch the bus straight to Bocas del Toro in Panama. I set out for some breakfast to mull the decision over coffee and met up with 3 lads from Montana who promptly invited me to stay at their hostel and hang out with them for the day. We decided to rent some bikes and ride down to Manzanilla stopping at beaches and snorkeling along the way. Sounded like a great idea, and they even offered to carry my bags for me! Never gonna be concerned with travelling alone ever again!
The day was perfect. The ride was leisurely and the scenery lush. We spotted monkeys as we cruised along, stopping a couple times to swim and frolic in the surf. At Manzanilla we enjoyed one of the best lunches I’ve had on the trip: Garlic shrimp and coconut rice. Delicious.
Getting back to our hostel, I headed over to the beach to watch the sunset and met 3 people who would become friends over the next several days in Bocas Del Toro: Aurelien, Matt, and Kelly. We all decided to head over to a bar after dinner that was playing live music (I was hoping to be able to sing, which I did! Remey, one of the three guys I’d met at breakfast was quite the musician and played guitar while I sang “Me and Bobby McGee” made famous by Janis Joplin). It was a good evening followed by dancing at a club downtown which we arrived at in style after hopping on to the tailgate of a passing truck. Ah, good times.
In the morning, a group of us jumped in a minivan headed for the border and the backpacker haven (or should I say pit of sin) of Bocas Del Toro, situated on the beautiful Isla Colon in the blue Caribbean azure. The town didn’t look like much as we sweatily clambered off of the water taxi that had brought us here, but it would soon grow on me in its affection. I knew where I wanted to stay and began to haul my bags north up the main drag, losing the guys in the process to a haggler trying to sell them a dorm at his hostel. Weak, I tell you!
I was very happy with my digs, named Mondo Taitu, which became as much a character in my stay as the islands themselves. Mondo Taitu has a funky appeal with bright colors, hammocks littered across balconies, and a free pancake breakfast. Each night hosts happy hour with prices that make your head spin: beer for 50c and cocktails for a buck. We never missed a happy hour.
Matt and Kelly were already there and I added Christina, Abraham, and Carina to the list of friends whom I made during my stay. We became quite a connected happy little bunch. After a shower and a happy hour, I decided to lay down for five minutes in my dorm before heading out.
I woke up the next morning at 8am.
Wanting to head out and see more of the islands, I joined a sailing trip aboard a catamaran which took a leisurely day out to such points as Dolphin Bay and coral key, stopping along the way at choice snorkeling spots. I’d been told that the visibility was particularly bad here, but I was pleasantly surprised by the color of the coral which we found in the shallower areas. It poured out of the sky in the early afternoon and we all had to take shelter inside the boat and wait for it to pass. All in all, by 4pm I was completely mellowed out and operating on island time, blissfully ignorant of the time on my watch except for when it would signify happy hour, of course.
Stopping by the supermarket on my way back to the hostel, I was stunned to find they had fresh milk for sale. Not being able to resist, I bought the half a gallon bottle together with a slice of fudge cake and sat in the sun gloriously gulping down the white stuff that I hadn’t imbibed in nearly 3 months. It was spectacular.
Walking into the hostel I was greeted by a familiar face from Puerto Viejo: Aurelien (from Paris) had decided to travel south and spend a few days at Mondo Taitu as well. The whole “crew” from Rocking J’s was here. It was going to be a good stay.
That night we all got a taste of Bocas‘ night life, where every single night, women drink for free. It is shamefully hedonistic and blatant in its marketing, but it seems to work, because the entire town seems to visit only one specific different bar each night of the week, which makes for a fun, if slightly high school atmosphere. I happily danced the night away until sleep beckoned. Even then, Aurelien and I ended up hanging out on the balcony outside my room for the next several hours anyway…
The next day, having woken too late for a boat trip, Matt organized us into a beach targeted group and we grabbed a collectivo to the north of the island and a stretch of beach called Bocas Del Drago. It was picture perfect with little surf, swaying palm trees, white sand, and lots and lots of starfish. It was the perfect beach day with swimming, a delicious lunch of red snapper sitting in swim gear, snorkeling, exploring, and taking lots of pictures. This was paradise. Little did I know it could get even better.
The following morning Aurelien was distraught as his ATM card didn’t seem to be functioning. I offered to buy breakfast, and during the meal it occurred to me that when the same thing happened to me in Copacabana, Bolivia, I went to a hotel and they kindly ran my card through their merchant machines in order to give me cash back. After trying the story out at several retailers we found a dive shop who was willing to give him cash. Relieved at being able to “do” things again, we immediately booked a boat charter out to the one island I desperately wanted to visit before leaving this place:Isla Zapatillo. It is supposed to be the most beautiful and unspoilt of the islands, completely uninhabited and circumnavigable on foot in about 30 minutes.
Despite being horrendously delayed by this very strange Persian man who insisted on making 7 of us wait an hour for him while he ate lunch at a stop along the way, it was an incredible day. I felt like I was in a movie and luxuriously breathed in the incredible scenery and utterly crystal clear water that lapped at our toes. It was so so beautiful, and I think honestly to say it was the best beach I’ve ever seen in my life. We ate a picnic under a palm tree and then happily lazed away the next five hours or so we had before being forced (literally) to get back in the boat and head back to Isla Colon.
I knew I needed to leave this place the next morning in the same way I know I need to leave Las Vegas after 3 days. This kind of self indulgence was starting to get to me. So after another memorable night spent at a club that was designed around a sunken ship and artificial reef, complete with sand, I packed up my bags, and Abraham (lovely sweet Dutch guy from Utrecht who had been travelling with Christina for the past month and who was headed back to Columbia) and I headed down to the docks for our water taxi and subsequent buses on to the mountain, and coffee town of Boquette.
After five hours of buses, Abraham and I felt the shift in climate and donned another layer. It was a welcome relief to experience a little chill, and watch the daily afternoon downpour come down over the cloud forest, and this little town which is apparently rated as the third best place to retire in the world! Walking over to our hostel in the rain, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed at the unearthly quiet that abounded. I was de–bocasing. It was going to take a day or so. I was already missing my friends. The parties. The happy hour. The beaches. Mondo Taitu! But no, it was time to move on and travel.
After setting down our bags in our hostel of second choice (the first was full! Damn!) we headed out for a good meal to lift our spirits. And we found it in a little American owned restaurant called Bistro Boquette. As soon as we arrived, a server came over and poured us both ice water. It was so beautiful it almost brought tears to my eyes.
We happily dined on rather expensive (for travelling that is) fillet Mignon with garlic mashed potatoes, red wine, and a brownie with ice cream for dessert. It was fantastic. After booking a trip to go white water rafting the next day, we settled in for the night at our hostel by watching a movie with our fellow roomies (some of whom had also arrived from Mondo Taitu).
I’ll leave it there for now as its getting rather long…I am in Panama City now and will be leaving for the San Blas Archipegalo in a few days for my last dose of sunshine before heading Stateside.
Much love to you all!

Peru Adventure Part I

12 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by in Costa Rica, Peru

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When I last wrote you, I left off at the point where I was saying farewell
to Central America and heading to the airport for my solo adventure in Peru.
Well, what an adventure it has been so far.

We´ll start with the saga of the guidebook. All travellers know that a
guidebook is essential to any foreign excursion. Especially when you are
doing a ¨DIY¨deal, it is essential to know what there is to do, where you
can stay, how you get to places etc. Without said guidebook, one might say
that you feel somewhat paralyzed, and that’s in a country where you speak the
language, and buses arrive on time, and people tell you the truth when they
are selling a trip. But not Peru. Here, being without a guidebook is
extremely difficult. As I found out on Monday.

On my last night in San Jose, I went searching for a guidebook in several
large bookstores. They had all kinds of books from all of South America but
nothing on Peru. ¨You´ll find one at the airport, they told me¨. No
problem.

SO, at the airport, departing San Jose, there were plenty of guidebooks,
hundreds in fact, but they were all for Costa Rica. Not sure why that would
be necessary if you´re leaving Costa Rica, but oh well. I figured the same
would be true in Lima, and I would find myriads of books in the departure
area of the airport. I wasn´t too concerned. However, upon arrival, to my
dismay ‘ I found lots of travel guides but NONE for Peru…for Rome, Athens,
London, Europe, Chile, India, Nepal…anywhere you wanted to go, except the
country YOU HAD JUST ARRIVED IN. When I asked, I discovered that it wasn´t
that they were out of Peruvian guidebooks, they just didn´t carry them!

Ok. Deep breath. I´ll find one. Stela´s family had very generously
offered to let me stay with them in Lima. Her brother, Saviour, met me at
the airport and we walked out to the car. I then saw her father, 76 years
old, Jose ¨Pepe¨ Diaz standing in the heat with his walking frame in the
heat and I just wanted to give him a hug for being so kind.

The Diaz family were wonderful to me and extremely hospitable. It was
also the greatest Spanish lesson of my life, I think I spoke more
Spanish in that one day than I have in the last 10 years. I also
learned, to my horror, that I´ve been saying certain phrases that mean
something completely different than I originally thought. Apparently,
when in the past I have commented to someone ¨Wow, its so hot, and I´m
so tired…but I´m excited to be here¨ I have actually been saying
¨Yeah, I´m hot stuff, and I´m so married….but I´m sexually aroused.¨

Oops.

I immediately noticed with the Diaz family just how patient everyone
is here with one another. After driving to their family home and
dropping off my luggage, Savior and I sat and chatted for a while. I
asked him what the plan was..and he said that he was waiting for me.
¨Where is your Dad´´ I asked, ¨¨in the car, waiting for us!¨¨ So
bizarre. I was sure that I was waiting for them.

So off we went to find the local tourism office and enquire after
finding an English language guidebook. I couldn´t imagine it to be
too difficult. Well, they sent us to 3 different bookstores, and we
ended up fighting traffic for the next 4 hours, disappointed at each
store that had lots of guidebooks, but none on Peru. I felt so awful
to be wasting their time, not to mention gas for their car, and the
fact that they were all hungry. Pepe kept telling me not to worry,
because if I was a friend of his daughter, then I am also his
daughter. He was so sweet.

This all would be stressful enough, except that, did I mention, Pepe
really can´t drive to save his, and ultimately, our lives. The entire
time we were in the car I was braced for a metal twisting, screeching
brake, people yelling collision. Pepe drove very slow, causing every
car to honk their horn at him, yell angrily, and drive madly around
him. Because he drove so slowly, he kept stalling the car…when he
tried to rev it from 5mph in 3rd gear. We would stall in the middle
of an 8 way intersection, and I would just close my eyes and brace for
impact. I ts a miracle we survived.

At one point, Pepe decided he didn´t want to turn right, and turned
left into oncoming traffic, honking his way through cars, in order to
make a U Turn. It was absolutely terrifying. I asked Savior why he
didn´t drive, and he said that he didn´t want to pass the exam. I
don´t know, I wouldn´t let my dad drive me around if I felt that each
venture out of the house might be my last.

At one point, Pepe just stopped the car dead in the middle of the
street and started to get out of the car. It took him about 10
minutes, after which he stood there and peed. It was
very…interesting.

After an exasperating time looking for the damn book, we gave up and
decided to go buy my bus ticket for tomorrow to Pisco, as the lady at
the tourism office had warned us that since it was Holy Week, I MUST
buy tickets today, I couldn´t buy tickets in the morning, and the bus
might be sold out.

I kid you not, it took another hour and a half just to crawl through
traffic MADNESS to get to the bus station, then another hour waiting
in line to talk to an incompetent sales agent who moved at the speed
of tortoise on valium. The bus company had been recommended to me..it
was called Ormeno‘ it was supposed to be the nicest of the companies,
and the safest. However, I really think they should change their
slogan from ¨´We are the people who help people travel´….to ´´We are
the people who make it as difficult as possible for you to give us
business!!´´

The following morning, I arrived, early. The bus was an hour late and
wait for it…there were only 2 passengers on board. We had to spend
5 hours arranging tickets for THAT. I don´t understand why people
can´t just make bookings on the phone or the Internet, especially
since it is a city clogged to a full stop with traffic. Apparently,
as I´ve discovered over the past few days, you can ONLY change your
ticket IN PERSON, AT THE BUS STATION, even if that means you have to
spend an entire afternoon and taxi fare going back and forth.

That evening the family and I went to have Chinese food, which was a
little odd for my first day in Peru. However, I did try a Peruvian
staple of Inca Kola…the Peruvian soft drink of choice which is
bright yellow and tastes of bubble gum. By the time we finished
eating it was 11pm, and I still had to go to the Internet to print AT
LEAST one chapter of the Lonely Planet,…which ended up taking
another two hours to print, no laser printers here!

Needless to say, I was extremely sleep deprived in the morning, but
caught my bus to Pisco and felt quite relieved to be leaving the dirty
metropolis. I loved staying with the Diaz family, I only wish I had
had the time to watch them teach in their local folk ´´Marinera¨dance
school….

The bus itself was very comfortable and despite being tired, I
couldn´t resist watching Marley and Me even though it was dubbed in
Spanish. These Ormeno Spanish movies have been really improving my
language skills. I arrived in Pisco having balled my eyes out after
Marley had died, and then nearly started crying when I looked at the
city I was entering for the night.

It looked like what I imagine war torn rural Iraq to look like.

The roads were dusty, buildings completely destroyed, thousands of
makeshift homes made from mud and clay….The earthquake of 2007
clearly had very visible remnants of its impact, and rebuilding has
only just begun.

I was beginning to wonder what my hotel would look like, but I was
extremely pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful, clean, courtyard,
with restaurant, and very welcoming room with breakfast for 16 bucks!

I have to end there…to be continued! I am currently in the Colca
Canyon, so I might not be able to write again for a couple of days…

Hope you enjoy!

Central America Part III

10 Friday Apr 2009

Posted by in Costa Rica, Nicaragua

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I am writing this letter from the Desert Oasis of Huacachina in Peru…so much has happened since I last wrote to you that I could probably fill a novel with the stories. Which, hopefully, I will one day. I started this account in La Fortuna, Costa Rica…so Ill just start there and go chronologically up to Peru…
I´ve had another incredible day in Costa Rica, perhaps even one to rival the Canopy Tour-zipline day! This morning I tried the sport of canyoneering for the first time, which includes hiking, climbing through rivers, rappelling down wet rocks and waterfalls! It was exhilarating.

Our guides (who were delightful eye candy) picked us up at 7:30am and kitted us out with harnesses, helmets and gloves. We were warned that we were going to get wet, so I just had on my quick dry shirt and shorts with a swimsuit underneath. We were going to be traversing through the jungle, through a canyon called ¨The Lost Canyon” because, apparently, it doesn´t exist on a map. The scenery was lush and spectacular. After a safety briefing we started our first rappel down through the river, holding tightly to our safety ropes, lowering ourselves stepping carefully on the slippery rock, while our guides kicked water all over us.

The entire experience was a thrill, especially the 300 foot rappel down the main waterfall. I had to not look down and just trust that the guides were going to keep the rope taught should I lose my grip on my “speed controlling” rope. We also got the chance to jump, swim, immerse, plunge, traverse and get heavily doused in water for the entire morning…and we were spent by the time the tour came to an end and we had to climb back up to the top of the canyon.

After a quick shower and change into dry clothes, we were delighted by a fantastic home cooked meal of stewed pork, rice, mango pico de gallo, avocados, coleslaw, black beans, and tortilla chips. Yum!

Arriving back to our hotel we all disappeared for a couple hours´ of nap. Then I decided that there is no rest for the wicked and set out to rent a couple of bikes for a ride up to La Fortuna waterfall, which I was assured was an “easy, 7km, 30 minute” ride to the waterfall. Lies. All of them.

The bike ride to the thundering and spectacular La Fortuna waterfall was even more challenging that climbing the volcano in Nicaragua. Sweat poured off of me, I finished my water way too early, and to make matters worse, I had to keep stopping to get off the bike and reattach the chain that kept coming off every time I shifted down. My hands were covered in oil, and then my face too as I kept forgetting not to wipe the sweat off of my forehead with my hands! The last section was so steep that I was forced to dismount and haul myself and the bike the last 500 metres.
We were rewarded upon arrival. Throwing off our clothes we dove into the crisp cool water and swam out to the falls, delighting in the powerful undertow created by the force of the falls. We were told not to swim out too far as some unlucky swimmers had been pulled under by the sheer power , and then drowned because they got stuck in the spin cycle that it creates. I decided to skip that one.
Heading back we raced against time and the beautifully setting sun to have a couple more goes on the rope swing at the swimming hole (where we had spent the afternoon the day before after our long journey from Monteverde). It is a favorite local hangout and the rope is a no joke Tarzan like apparatus which requires you to take a leap of faith and time the release just right so that you plunge 20 feet into the deepest part of the river below. It was a lot of fun, but it took me counting to 3 like 10 times before Angela had the nerve to do it. By the time we made it back into town, it was dark and we were completely spent.
After a welcome ice cold beer, and a much needed shower, the group headed out for our “goodbye dinner”. Thank God. I couldn’t wait to say goodbye to these people. Ive never travelled with a more inane and unfriendly bunch in my life. They were the only downside to my time in Central America and I was getting nervous about my organized trip in Peru, for fear it would be a similar experience.
The following day we had the morning to ourselves before our last van ride down to San Jose. The two girls desperately wanted to go visit this animal sanctuary where they rescued and cared for animals that had been hurt, mistreated, or kept as pets illegally. They needed 3 people to arrange the trip which included 4 hours of volunteer work with the creatures (or bubiks as I like to call the cute ones..its a made up word my sister and I invented). So, being the generous person I am, I decided to sign up as well.
It was quite enjoyable. We got to play with a gorgeously cute Kicachoo called Benjamin who had been hit by a car (kind of a red raccoon), and hold hands with a spider monkey who thrived on human contact. They also had baby sloths and racoons that were unbelievable cute. The Asis sanctuary was doing good work and had a lot of volunteers who had come to vacation here for a few weeks and work with the animals. We were put to work cleaning a raccoon cage…which wasn‘t as bad as it sounds…except it was rather strange to be raking leaves for a creature that is considered such a pest back home and often destroyed because of the disease that they carry. In any case, it felt good to be putting some good into the universe for these creatures. I got some adorable pictures too which will follow for sure.
That afternoon we drove the five hours down to San Jose, and it was so winding that it turned out to be, for me, the worst travel day of the trip thus far.
I was starting to get nervous, as I still had not received my email confirmation from GAP adventures for my 21 day Peru extravaganza. When we arrived at 7pm and I still hadn’t heard, I asked my sister in the UK to call them…and that’s when I found out that I hadn’t made it on the trip. I cried for like 20 minutes at the news, then pulled myself together…reminded myself that I could do the same trip alone and that I would be ok. That this might be a blessing in disguise. That I would meet people along the way, that I wouldn’t be lonely, that I’d get a guidebook, and book things as they came up. It would all work out.
Having said that, when I’ve travelled alone in the past, it was after extensive research and planning. I had read nothing, and had done nothing except book my flight. I didn’t even know where I{d be staying in Lima, and was nervous about travelling in a country which is notorious for theft and crimes against travellers, especially women.
SO, it was with great trepidation that I fell asleep that night. Fortunately, my Peruvian friend, Stela, was kind enough to call her parents in Lima, who offered to put me up for the first night. That felt better.
But oh boy, so much has happened since I got here, and its only Day 4!!
However, I will leave it there and complete my saga later…..and so it continues!

Central America Part II

03 Friday Apr 2009

Posted by in Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua

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Greetings from Costa Rica!

Let me start by saying a big thank you to those of you who so kindly wrote to me offering words of encouragement and support. It really means a lot to me. I have decided to keep travelling…(what the hell?) since I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity like this! And I really need to time to heal, regroup, figure out what is next in my life. On Tuesday, this part of the Central American adventure will end and I will be flying to Lima in Peru!! I’m going to spend about a month travelling through Peru and then end up in Bolivia, flying back to San Jose in Costa Rica (where my original flight home was from) on April 28. SO: if any of you would like to meet me in Costa Rica for a week or so at the end of my adventures….PLEASE LET ME KNOW!! Right now, I’ve changed my flight home to Seattle to May 13…..!

SO! I have the CRAZIEST day today! We are currently staying in the cloud forest reserve town of Monteverde in Costa Rica. This afternoon I reluctantly agreed to partake in a canopy tour of the cloud rain forest, which basically involves hurtling yourself at high speeds across mountainous chasms (at least 1500 feet up in the air) attached to a steel zip line and a hip harness. Some of the “crossings” were over 2600 metres in length, taking a full 2 minutes to cross. It was the closest thing to flying that I’ve ever experienced in my life and it was both exhilarating and utterly terrifying. They give you a lot of tips to help prevent you from starting to spin out of control, or worse yet, braking so much that you end up suspended in the middle of the cable, dangling over the canyon…as the only way out of that situation is literally pulling yourself hand over hand upside down to the other side….CRAZY!

If that wasn’t bad enough- the last canopy “ride” was a Tarzan style swing which was kind of like zip line meets a bungee jump. It was insane, and I don’t know how I did it! I literally held my breath and let the guide push me off the ledge where I was standing, where I proceeded to free fall for about 35 feet before the rope held taught and I was flying screaming over the treetops. Exhilarating.

I was so exhausted by the end, and it was mostly because of all the built up adrenaline from the afternoon.

I left off my last email in the beautiful colonial town of Granada in southern Nicaragua…the poorest country in Central America. On the first afternoon a few of us took a boat trip on Lake Nicaragua to several of the thousands of islands that dot this second largest freshwater lake in all of South America (after Lake Titicaca). Our guide gave us the history of the area as well as some pretty grim statistics of current affairs- 62% unemployment, 71% of the nation is under age 30, and the average wage is $1,000 a year. He said that having a job here is like owning treasure…you cherish it. Gave me a lot of food for thought and helped to explain the events that took place over dinner that evening that I described in my last email. People pushed to the edge just to survive are capable of doing anything.

It has been difficult not to notice the extreme poverty in Nicaragua. It was bad in Honduras too…but not quite as evident. A lot more people are begging on the street, many of them young children, and there are plenty of hawkers trying to sell anything they can to those who will part with cash. Many homes for multiple family members are single room abodes with dirt floors and little furniture or creature comforts. For the most part though, everyone I´ve met seems happy- because the one thing that stands out here as being available in an extremely plentiful fashion is…community. Everyone here knows their neighbors, they acknowledge each other and linger in conversation, they offer rides to one another as they drive by, and in the smaller towns, everyone knows each other. Family seems very important too, so it appears that despite the hardships of life, the people have one another and therefore find joy in their day to day lives. That is at least my impression.

The next day I went on a tour of the active Masaya Volcano. Unfortunately (felt like cheating) you could drive to the top and then peer over the edge into the steaming cauldron of sulphurous gases. I thought it was funny that there were miles of hiking trails, some of which we did, and also signs stating that you had to park backed into a spot, just in case the area had to be evacuated in a hurry!

Afterwards we visited a craft market, had a delicious hearty lunch, and visited a ceramic factory where we could try our hands at clay pottery. I was dismal unfortunately- the foot-eye coordination that spinning the wheel and simultaneously molding the clay required was beyond me. 😦

That evening we had the worst meal of the trip in this nasty local restaurant lit with blindingly bright fluorescent lights. ugh. Couldn´t complain though…it cost $2 for a plate of chicken, rice, and beans.

Though it has improved somewhat, I was still having a very hard time getting along with my group who seem to have simply excluded me from their conversations. I am looking forward to being with new people come Peru…I´m beginning to wonder if its just me and that I make an awful travel companion?

I committed to moving on to doing my own thing, and meeting more locals. Which I did.

After a gruelling 12 hour travel day, which began at 5am, we arrived in Isla Ometepe, which is a Volcanic island created by the molten lava flowing between two volcanoes in Southern Nicaragua: Concepcion and Madera. The heat was astronomical here. It was well over 100 ´F by 10am..and we had most of the journey on HOT, STICKY, I AM NOW AT ONE WITH MY SEAT, chicken buses. We had the added pleasure of riding on the chicken ferry that afternoon too! Don´t ask me what made it chicken. I threw up.

Our hotel was located another hour´s bumpy unpaved road away on the beach of Lake Nicaragua. It was a charming little spot…lots of pink cabins cooled only with fans, and lots of hammocks dotted around the grounds and beach front. We were in the middle of nowhere. Lovely. It was so hot, that after I´d ordered my lunch….I got up from the table, walked into the lake (fully clothed), submerged, got up, walked back to the table, and sat down. Sleeping was very hard these two nights….especially when the power went out and the only relief from the fans was cut off. My roommate and I just kept getting up in the night, taking a cold shower, then lying back on the bed sopping wet…giggling at the situation. It was quite funny.

The following morning I set out at 6:30am to climb Volcano Masaya. I was feeling very brave as it was a 4586 foot mountain, and we were at sea level….that’s quite a day hike, especially in the heat. And I was the only one who wanted to go! I managed to find a guide who was taking another few people from the hotel next door, and joined his group. I hiked with a lovely gay couple from England, and a married couple from Toronto. Our guide, Daniel, was charming and asked for help when struggling with his English (he also let me sing Beatles songs to him all the way down which gave him extra bonus points in my book). Thankfully, most of the hike was in forest canopy, so we were shielded from the unforgiving sun. It was a challenging climb, about a 1-4 of the way up, our English friends said they were headed down to get a couple of Margaritas and sit it out… I was undeterred. I felt SO HAPPY finally hiking again, doing something active, and was so excited to see the cloud forest at the top and the giant crater. It was the first time my surroundings really penetrated deeply, taking me far far away from my life back home, from my relentlessly painful heartbreak, from my job loss, from Seattle…and I surrendered to the wild cat like sounds of the howler monkeys, the heat of the jungle, the hum of the cicadas, and the steady sound of my heart as it burst from my chest with exertion.

By the time we summited, after a 4 1-2 hour uphill slog, I was covered head to foot in mud, cuts, scrapes, not to mention sweat. We descended then into the crater which had a lush green floor and beautiful lake. I immediately wanted to swim, and my guide warned me against it saying it was muddy. How bad could it be? In I went, only to discover when I stood up, that I sank, as if in quicksand, UP TO MY CHEST!! Holy crap. Literally. Luckily I had brought an extra litre of drinking water as I had to use it just to get the muck off of my flesh. he he.

Upon reaching the car on the way back, we were all completely spent and filthy. Our guide was kind enough to drive us straight to Ojo de Agua…a freshwater swimming hole in the forest, where we all gladly collapsed into the cool, refreshing, water. By the time our cold Capirinhas and chicken tacos arrived (this water hole had a restaurant next to it!!) I was in ecstasy. I met a man by the name of James there, who happened to be from Oregon. Since he was travelling alone, (and kind of cute), I invited him to come have dinner with me later at the hotel. I was pleasantly surprised when he turned up!

We had a wonderful 3 hour conversation, and it was exactly what I needed after having felt such a lack of relating to my fellow travellers. About life, travelling, being American, culture shock (when returning to the States), love, family, etc, etc. One of those conversations that are as delicious as a good meal. Then came a shocking coincidence. James lived NEXT DOOR to Korey´s father in the little town of Jacksonville, Oregon. How bizarre is that? To say its a small world after all would be an understatement.

I was sad to leave Nicaragua yesterday, and upon arriving in Costa Rica, you could immediately sense an economic and social shift. What do you mean I have to pay more than a dollar for a beer??!!!! Yes, goodbye to unreal prices…hello burgeoning western style tourism.

There have been many long travel days on this trip thus far. I haven´t minded them so much as I am about 600 pages into my 1000 page English Middle Age novel ¨”World without End¨”. Its weird to be taken away from my Central American “world” into my Gothic English “world” on every bus trip, but it adds an interesting dynamic which I´m repeating after having read this novel´s prequel “Pillars of the Earth” last year in Chile. The only thing that is really bothersome (and I think of you, Monica, when I say this!!) is that you have to exercise supreme bladder control…because we can be leaving at 6am and not stopping for the bathroom for 4-6 hours at a time. Which is really difficult when you take into account trying to stay hydrated because of the heat.

All adds to the experience, I guess.

Actually, we were quite relieved when we arrived in Monteverde yesterday as the climate is much cooler here…since we are in a cloud rain forest, about 1800 feet above sea level.

Before going on the insane canopy tour this afternoon, we actually had another adventure this morning, a description of which I will end this email with…as it is already insane in its length. We got up at 5:30am (I know, I don´t know why I find it so easy on vacation!!) to catch the bus to the Biological Reserve in the Monteverde Cloud Forest National Park. We hired a naturalist to take us on a guided walk into the forest in search of the diverse wildlife of Costa Rica. Costa Rica, apparently, has more species per square kilometre than anywhere else on earth. By the end of our 3 hour hike, the number of species we saw (some up close and personal) was extremely impressive…and I´m so glad that we had the guide, as there is no way I would have spotted half of these birds-creatures had we just gone the route of many of the tourists there in taking a self guided walk. We saw:

At least 7 varieties of hummingbird
The VERY RARE Quetzal, both male and female (we were so lucky)
A Coati (like a cross between a raccoon and an anteater)
Howler Monkeys
Kapuchin Monkeys
A Tarantula (got a great pic!)
A baby sloth asleep in the canopy
A variety of Toucans
Countless other vibrantly colored birds including one called “Car Alarm” bird because of the sound it makes!!

It was beautiful. I was very impressed and also enjoyed learning about the plant life, especially the two almost identical plants with giant leaves…one of which is pleasantly scented and called “Toilet Paper” plant, and the other being a member of the stinging nettle family. I felt it might be important to be able to distinguish the difference!

Anyway…tomorrow we have a half travel day and are spending the night in La Fortuna. I will write again soon!.

Central America Part I

29 Sunday Mar 2009

Posted by in Central America, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua

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I find myself writing this to all of you from the charming colonial town of Granada, in southern Nicaragua. It is a beautiful little town, with colorful stucco homes and cobbled streets, all the brochures talk about its tourist appeal. However, at dinner tonight, the truth of the hardships faced by so many native Nicaraguans painted a much more real picture of this town and land for everyone sitting at my table. We were about half way through our meal when two people, a young male teenager, and an older woman, walked right up to a few of us and stuck their hands into our plates stealing our food from under our noses. We were eating al fresco on the street, and from that point on, we noticed several others lurking behind our table, waiting to be given any leftovers we might have had. After all these years of globetrotting, not much surprises me anymore. This sure did.

 

 

I am just over a week into my trip traveling with Gap Adventures through Central America. I chose this company as they provide accommodation and transport only – leaving you to worry only about activities and areas of interest at each stop along the way. As I mentioned in my last email, this trip was very last minute, so I didn´t even really have time to plan or read up on where I was going. The itinerary looked very appealing- it was called the Volcano trail for one, and promised opportunities to hike, dive off the coast of Honduras, climb volcanoes, observe a lot of wildlife in jungles, and cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. Sounded like my cup of tea.

 

 

So off I flew from Seattle to Guatemala city via Atlanta. It was a “red-eye” flight and I was very very sleepy when I arrived, especially after having just experienced a grueling 2 day test right before getting on the aircraft. I had a cab drive me to Antigua which was the first stop on my 17 day tour. It’s a beautiful little town and a welcome retreat from the noise, pollution, and horrendous traffic of Guatemala City. I checked into the little “posada” and took a well needed shower. I spent the next couple of hours wandering around the town, which has entirely cobbled streets, narrow footpaths, and colorful buildings. It was also the start of a Catholic festival, and many of the young boys and men were dressed head to foot in bright purple as the town prepared for the afternoon´s procession…which I got to witness right as it began in the town square. One could tell almost immediately just how devout the Guatemalans are, and what a source of comfort their faith is to them. After a long nap, I met up with some of my fellow travelers (unfortunately for me…most of them had already been traveling together for the past 3 weeks and formed bonds with one another…I was the new kid and have had a hard time feeling included) and went out for dinner. By around 9pm I was delirious from exhaustion and passed out.

 

 

This trip has been filled with early morning departures (the second day we left the hotel at 4:45am…its amazing how well I deal with mornings when I´m not at home in the States…I don´t seem to mind them at all!) and quite a lot of time spent on buses, taxis, and ferries. Lots of time to think (not so good for me), and lots of time to read (good because I brought the sequel to Pillars of the Earth – all 1000 pages of it and am loving it). Our first stop was to cross the border into the “Banana Republic” of Honduras (did you all know that?) and deal with the inefficiencies and tedium which has come to characterize many of the customer/service type interactions thus far. Bureaucracy. From there we drove on to the town of Copas Ruinas which is famous for its Mayan ruins of the city of Copas…the militaristic headquarters of the grand Mayan Empire of long ago. After setting down our backpacks and enjoying a wonderful lunch of a burrito the size of my head, a few of us set out to check out the ruins.

 

 

We ended up getting a tour guide by the name of Mario who ended nearly every sentence with “…and things like that” whether it grammatically suited the phrase or not. He was a dear old man, and explained that he had been working at the UNESCO world heritage site for the past 30 years, and had never missed a day. The ruins were impressive from the perspective of the quality of sculptures. It was not as grand as the Mayan sites I´d visited in the Yucatan, but the artwork was vastly superior. We were also lucky enough to get some close up shots of vibrantly covered Macaws.

 

 

It was so strange walking around that day in the relentless heat and humidity, thinking that just a short 36 hours before, I was completing at test at Shoreline community college…so weird. Its taken at least a week for my being here to even really sink in.

 

 

There are 10 of us in the group- from the US, Canada, Australia, England, and Norway respectively. Our tour guide is from Spokane. Small world, eh? I travel to Central America to get a complete change of scene…and my guide is a Washingtonian. Typical. That night we had a wonderful meal and then drank beers on the rooftop terrace of our hostel, retiring early as we had another early start.

 

 

We spent the entire next day traveling on “chicken” buses through the winding highlands to the east coast of Honduras where we boarded a catamaran to the Bay Island paradise of Utila. This ended up a hilarious adventure when we all decided to sit out on deck, and enjoy the fresh air of the crossing, only to also enjoy being constantly pounded by waves crashing over the side of the boat and drenching us all to the bone. We laughed without stopping for about 30 minutes straight, at that point it all got rather cold and our sense of fun was taken away by the knowledge that we were only 1-2 way there!

 

 

We arrived, shivering drowned rats, to this tiny little settlement that the next few days revealed to house an assortment of strange characters seeking escape from the civilized western world in one form or another. The hot shower felt so good that night…and our spirits were all raised by the best bbq I´ve ever had…all for a fantastic $7 which included an ice cold cerveza!

 

 

Utila is on the second largest coral reef in the world and I intended to make the most of it! I got to the dive shop at 6am only to be told that the vis would be pretty bad as the weather was calling for choppy seas. I decided to postpone my dive until the following day and went in search of coffee.

 

 

A few of us decided to go on a snorkel trip which included a visit to a couple of uninhabited “Robinson Crusoe” like islands, one of which was only 200 metres wide by 400 metres long. Fantastic. It was leisurely day where we all got pretty much roasted by the sun, snorkeled to our hearts content, and lay out on pure white sand and drank beer. Very harsh indeed. It was so beautiful: but I found myself just wishing for someone to share it all with (other than my new, somewhat lame travel companions).

 

 

I got to scuba dive the following day : the conditions were perfect. As this was also a prime Whale Shark season, I was told that there was even a decent chance of spotting a Whale Shark for a snorkel encounter. After having had Whale Sharks elude me twice so far in my travels, both on the West Coast of Australia and Mexico…I did not want to hype myself up too much in case I was disappointed again. Alas, the sharkies did not come to us…as was explained by our very eccentric divemaster from the UK, Adam, who insisted on STANDING on the roof of the boat as we pounded the sea at full speed, screaming at the top of his lungs “NO!! NO Whale Sharks today…I know when they´re around coz I can SMELL THEM!! ARRRGGGHHHH!!” Very odd, but entertaining.

 

 

It was great to be diving again; though the memory of Jennifer still haunted me as I checked my regulator, o-ring, second stage, and tank…feeling tears come to my eyes. The dives on Utila were rather shallow…we didn´t go down more than 60 feet. I´ve been horribly spoiled in my diving experiences…I found the reef to be somewhat lacking in fish, though the diversity of the coral itself was outstanding. All the same, I´m still always filled with that momentary exquisite realization when I dive that is outside of the visual stimuli of wildlife itself- its just that blatant realization of “shit! I´m underwater…and breathing air!! This is fantastic!”

 

 

The next two days was almost entirely traveling, again in a variety of long, uncomfortable buses. Something I´m used to thankfully. The highlight for me was after arriving in the Honduran capital of Tegulcipalca, we experienced the kind of hair raising cab ride that made you feel you were living in a Jackie Chan movie. Our driver was completely insane, about as insane as the traffic, noise, dirt, crowds, and general nastiness of this sprawling megatropolis which I think in all my travels can only be rivaled by Saigon or India for its intensity. I could never live there.

 

 

Our driver would not stop for stop signs. Why bother, when you can risk yours and your passengers lives by flooring it through intersecting moving traffic??? And why believe that you should stick to one side of the road? Especially when you´re forced to wait….no! Just pull over into the opposing lane, floor it around a blind corner doing 50 mph, and then simply slam on the brakes for dear life when at the last possible second you see a truck heading straight for you in a near death head-on collision forcing you to put the car in reverse and drive backwards for nearly 3 minutes? And lest I forget, I also learned the importance of short cuts. Why drive a normal street when you can cut straight through an open public market, driving so fast that stall keepers and small children are forced to run for their lives to get out of the way, and there´s barely room for a bicycle to squeeze through let alone a car? Craziness.

 

 

When we got to our hotel, my 20 year old Norwegian companion just looked at me, finally exhaled, and said “Well. They don´t do that in Oslo.¨”

 

 

We arrived in Granada yesterday evening. Today I spent much of my day in this Internet cafe and taking a tour of Lake Nicaragua. Will write again soon!

Semester at Sea Part XII: Cuba

16 Sunday Dec 2001

Posted by in Cuba, Semester at Sea 2001

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Well, I got back into Miami a few days ago, and being back in the USA is somewhat of a shock. I will have to write soon and let you know about my time in Cuba, because it was incredible – I even met Fidel Castro! Havana is quite possibly one of the most beautiful cities that I’ve ever visited.

Anyway, as an update, for those of you in Boulder, I’m in Orlando with my family and fly back on the evening of the 18th, and will be staying with my friend Jon. I can’t wait to see you all again! Do any of you know of people looking for a roommate for the Spring?

For those of you in England, I’m flying back on the 25th until the 9th of January.

Love you all.

Anita