Well, we have been here for long enough now that I think I have a feel for the city. There are things that are definitely Seattle for me now - things that whenever I see, smell or hear will always remind me of this place, for better or for worse. The first that comes to mind is teriyaki - I smell charring beef on every other street corner in and around the city. It smells delicious. Even on my way into work at 8 in the morning it still makes me crave some hunk of meaty goodness. I have yet to actually try any of the teriyaki joints - we have made our own but couldn't achieve the same mouthwatering smell of cooking flesh. I think I've been looking at too many of those food porn sites as my description there dangerously teeters on the point of cliche.
The other quintessentially Seattle product is coffee. I am a barista and I can tell you, I'm sick of the lingo out here. 'Can I have an extra hot double tall split shot non fat mocha with a bit of whip?' No, no you bloody can't. You can have a straight-up goddamn fucking coffee and be damn glad I didn't spit in it. Well, I can't say that, but trust me, I'm thinking it. There is a lot of pretentiousness surrounding the coffee culture and Seattlites have high expectations of their coffee. I suppose you have to have a bit of taste in something, even if it is just coffee.
Hipsters have overtaken Seattle. Kurt Cobain must be turning in his grave. Lots of lost 20 somethings with too much time in the morning to get ready. This time applies especially to men and not only to their hair and carefully placed scarf/neckerchief but also how long it takes to pour themselves and their poor little bollocks into the tightest drainpipe jeans. Style here must have taken a dramatic turn after the grunge movement. There is a lot of alternative here, but all of it smacks of effort. Everyone seems to be trying to prove something.
Don't get me wrong, Seattle is a beautiful city. It's nestled in a forest surrounded by mountains and lakes. Everywhere you turn is another stunning view. But that's in the distance. Up front you have a whole load of people vying for your attention with signs. The homeless stand on the corners of junctions and beg for money from their captive audience. Politicians stand on other junctions waving signs advertising themselves. Shops stick people out on the street with big signs to wave to goad people in. And most interesting of all - people stand and hold huge signs over overpasses with their beliefs splattered all over it. So far I've been told who I should vote for, that I should be vegan and that I should follow the path of christ according some referenced bible verse. It's a bit chilly at the moment and yet they are still there, smiling and waving and trying to change your mind.
For all these reasons, and many more that I am sure I will discover, I shan't be choosing Seattle as a city to settle down in. Even at the right time of life for that business. A great place for a while, but not a keeper. So new travel plans have been formed. An RV will be be purchased and used in a road trip across America. When we run out of money, we stop, get a job and save until we can move on. I am aware it is in its primitive stages of development, but watch this space as plans progress. If anyone has any helpful comments about road trips, RV's or places to go drop me comment.
Next time I write I'll fill in on what we've been up to, but I just had to get that off my chest!
25 Nov 2012
9 Jul 2012
For all you were
I’m still trying to shake you. I’m still comparing what I
have now to what I had then. It’s even at the point where songs I hate are
becoming sentimental because they remind me of you.
It’s not like this is the first time. It’s happened a lot
before. But no previous experience ever prepares you for the next one. Each is
different in its own way. Although it was easier I suppose when I was younger -
fewer preconceptions, less to lose. I keep trying to remind myself that I’m
using rose-tinted glasses, it wasn’t as good as I remember. I try to remember the
bad times, the times where I thought you had given me all you could. Friends say they will keep in touch, and they
do for a while, but soon it becomes too awkward, out of sight, out of mind.
But then I remember the times where I was spit out into the unexpected
morning light by some sweaty nightclub and you were there to embrace me. You
would swift me along my way as I stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact in
case they see the evidence of the night before. But you never judged me. There
are times when I may have felt rejected, but never unloved.
The last time I really had to start a new life I was 15. In
that prepubescent stage, it was a very emotional time. I felt like my life,
which had previously been in turmoil, was finally coming together. Then we
moved and I left behind my best friends, my new boyfriend, and a life I had
worked very hard to pull together. I remember waiting for the car to pull up,
eating Burger King on my bedroom floor as all the furniture had been sold. My 2
friends waved me good bye and I could only just make them out through the haze
of tears. I slept the whole way to the airport once I stopped crying. When we
got to England I felt like someone had ripped my heart out. Physically, not
just metaphorically – it felt shattered.
I don’t feel like that now. But I have a feeling it’s the
adult equivalent. I’ve been told that the weather is crap and I’m not missing
anything. But I’m missing my friends, my familiarity, my comfort, a whole
support network made up of not just the people, but the place. All of my little
knick knacks that moved around with me are not here. My pictures of old friends
are not here. Part of me is not here. It’s back in Bristol. Don’t take this as
regret – I’m on a new adventure and I wouldn’t change it, but it doesn’t mean
that sometimes it’s not a struggle. It’s like missing having a boyfriend – I keep
looking at friends meeting up in the park or for coffee or for a night out and
thinking ‘I used to do that.’ It takes a while to settle into a place, but for
now I want to pay homage to Bristol.
Bristol, I miss your:
Graffiti
Night clubs
Cider
Beer gardens
Dubstep
Raves
Crusty hippies
Coffee shops
Westonbirt arboretum
Parks, oh how I miss sitting in the park with friends
Friends
Hippy mentality
Ease of networking
Unrealistic ideologies
BCHF
Walking everywhere
Festivals
Intelligent humour
There’s more, but most of them are steeped in memories. I’ve
come to a different place to have a different experience, but first I’ve got to
let go. Stop comparing everything to Bristol and appreciate things in their own
right. I suppose it’s just hard having a definitive line to mark the end of a
particular part of your life. Even though my party animal side started to fade
a while ago, this feels much more like the dawn of my adult life. I’m certainly
not saying that I won’t be partying anymore, but not as often and not with the
same sense of reckless abandon. I’ve always struggled to come to terms with the
end of that part of my life, for whatever reason it made me feel special. I
also think it was me having to embrace responsibility in some way. But it’s
still hard to wave goodbye to a very fun time of life and I wouldn’t have had
it any other way, warts and all. So goodbye Bristol, and Seattle, show me what
you got!
7 Jul 2012
Back to the City
So, here we are in Seattle, Washington. We've been here for about 2 weeks, well, just over 2 weeks.
We left Idaho at 5:30 in the morning to embark on our 13 hour journey to Seattle. It was a bit sad to see the back of Idaho. For all of my complaints, it's amazing the power of rose-tinted reflection. We did manage to make some friends and settle in a bit. We even had a little leaving do at The Frosty Gator. We were essentially being teenagers again. Living by someone else's rules, living rent free, having people buy our food for us. But as Dave always said, nothing is free. We had gotten ourselves a little routine. This mainly included going out for drives. We both worked in the same place. A place where, I swear, every employee was a stoner to some degree. I found out why this was - it was one of the few places in Idaho Falls that didn't drug test. So all the people who get lumped into the same category as a meth head have to find work somewhere. And admittedly, all bar one were good at their job. I can't believe their lives are going to be so restricted simply for smoking a bit of weed. But I was told of this slogan for Idaho Falls "Come on vacation, leave on probation." Honestly, the whole population were split into 2 groups - Mormon or on probation. I met one girl who was caught shoplifting a lip gloss at 13 and she was put on probation for something like 5 years. This method is merely a way of making money and from what I can see it turns people who wouldn't have gone down that path into more hardened criminals. And yet, everyone seems to drive drunk. I hate this misplaced drug war and their avoidance of addressing the more virulent problem of alcohol. But this is not a soapbox.
Besides, we are in a much more liberal part of the country now. They provide medical marijuana cards for starters. And I feel like I'm back in Bristol as far as the smell of green on every street goes. Our trip up here was fairly uneventful. But as we went through a canyon, rounded the corner and say the landscape around us change from desert to rich greens and browns, we received a magnificent welcome. As spectacular as I see that wide open space, I'm much more a forest kind of person. I'm not necessarily a tree hugger, but I will give them an appreciative pat every now and again. The city itself is nestled in the forest. You just see a little mass of skyscrapers poking out of a little silver pool surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees lie the mountains. Mount Rainier is apparently used in training for Mount Everest. Honestly, the views all around Seattle are stunning. Puget Sound provides plenty of beach area and there are walking and hiking trails all around.
We live just outside Seattle in a place called Lake City. I was speaking to one of the rare staunch conservatives in the area on the bus and she informed me that she wouldn't even drive through our area. As it stands, I've had no problems. On our second day, on a walk to the farmer's market, we passed a recent drive by. But even this had a tinge of the farcical as one of the victims hobbled away, grabbing his posterior and complaining "my arse, my poor arse." We also had a woman who was rather inebriated keep us entertained at the bus stop. Now, everyone likes a complimentary drunk, the only problem is you don't know if and when they will start to sober up and realise we are no where near as nice as we appear and start to pick a fight (all in their heads obviously). But this woman remained in good spirits. Apparently I have a nice smile and a good face structure. Dave has dreamy eyes. We were offered am orgy but politely declined. We were told we make a cute couple though. The poor woman had just found out that she might have breast cancer, so I really couldn't blame her. Ok, maybe she took a bit of crack and meth as well, and was an alcoholic, but regardless, I'd be drunk as hell too.
Our first trip into Seattle was not what we were expecting. We stumbled upon the gay Pride parade, and what a way to enter a city!! The atmosphere was brimming with free abandon. All the gang folk were looking around cautiously - they were greatly outnumbered anyway and their discomfort provided a great source of amusement. It was a great atmosphere, even though it thwarted our attempts to find anything as all the roads were closed off.
A lot of our time has been used furniture and job hunting. We finally found a couch from someone who would deliver (this is another major set back in finding furniture). We took a while workling out the measurements and seeing if it would fit. We decided it would, at a push. Well, push came to shove came to 'wait, no, just try turning it left at the bottom and right at the top' and the walls were getting more bruised than we could fix. A little thought outside the box and we took the couch through bedroom, out on to the balcony and through the balcony door. Fit like a glove! We are still waiting to get a bed - a blow up mattress has done the trick so far.
It was 4th of July a couple of days ago so we decided to hit the fireworks. There was an all day celebration at the old site of a gas works factory. It was crowded but civilised - not what I'm used to! But the fireworks were amazing. Getting home was a hell of a hassle, but we managed it, after stopping into am Irish pub to wait for the masses to clear out.
We also met up with an old high school friend of mine. It was great to meet up with someone you haven't seen in years and we had a lovely BBQ in their garden. However, on the way home, we were told to get 2 buses, and one would give us transfer tickets for the other. We got the first then waited for the second. We showed our transfer tickets but were told they didn't work on that bus. We had no more money, no free cash machine near by and not much clue about the city. An extremely kind girl gave us $5 to get on the bus. We were both stunned into silence. We tried to decline the offer but she would have none of it. We got on the bus and sat again in stunned silence. I went back to her and tried to invite her out for a drink in return, but she just said she knows how hard it can be and that karma will sort her out. I'm still in awe really as no one has ever extended that kind of hand to me. But you can be sure, if that happens to someone else and I have money, the same kindness will be passed on. I think that's more what she would have wanted anyway.
On the other hand, we went to the DMV yesterday. it was a long wait so we hunkered down. There were 2 obvious meth heads there waiting too, they were a bit of a train wreck. The elderly gentleman who was sat next to them went up to do his thing and realised his wallet wasn't in his pocket. He went out to the car to look for it and came back in with his accusing finger ready. She got all defensive and walked out, at which point a quarter of the people in the room jumped up to chase her down and get his wallet back. Well, she gave him his wallet back. But the $500 he had in there was gone. Her friend had the gall to stay around and give the audience a bit of lip. The other girl by this point had run off and as we walked back to the car saw her friend getting arrested. But, it got the whole room talking to each other. This room was pretty much silent and segregated up until this point. Just goes to show it takes very little to bring out the social beast in human nature. Just a shame it takes something like that to break down those barriers.
We left Idaho at 5:30 in the morning to embark on our 13 hour journey to Seattle. It was a bit sad to see the back of Idaho. For all of my complaints, it's amazing the power of rose-tinted reflection. We did manage to make some friends and settle in a bit. We even had a little leaving do at The Frosty Gator. We were essentially being teenagers again. Living by someone else's rules, living rent free, having people buy our food for us. But as Dave always said, nothing is free. We had gotten ourselves a little routine. This mainly included going out for drives. We both worked in the same place. A place where, I swear, every employee was a stoner to some degree. I found out why this was - it was one of the few places in Idaho Falls that didn't drug test. So all the people who get lumped into the same category as a meth head have to find work somewhere. And admittedly, all bar one were good at their job. I can't believe their lives are going to be so restricted simply for smoking a bit of weed. But I was told of this slogan for Idaho Falls "Come on vacation, leave on probation." Honestly, the whole population were split into 2 groups - Mormon or on probation. I met one girl who was caught shoplifting a lip gloss at 13 and she was put on probation for something like 5 years. This method is merely a way of making money and from what I can see it turns people who wouldn't have gone down that path into more hardened criminals. And yet, everyone seems to drive drunk. I hate this misplaced drug war and their avoidance of addressing the more virulent problem of alcohol. But this is not a soapbox.
Besides, we are in a much more liberal part of the country now. They provide medical marijuana cards for starters. And I feel like I'm back in Bristol as far as the smell of green on every street goes. Our trip up here was fairly uneventful. But as we went through a canyon, rounded the corner and say the landscape around us change from desert to rich greens and browns, we received a magnificent welcome. As spectacular as I see that wide open space, I'm much more a forest kind of person. I'm not necessarily a tree hugger, but I will give them an appreciative pat every now and again. The city itself is nestled in the forest. You just see a little mass of skyscrapers poking out of a little silver pool surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees lie the mountains. Mount Rainier is apparently used in training for Mount Everest. Honestly, the views all around Seattle are stunning. Puget Sound provides plenty of beach area and there are walking and hiking trails all around.
We live just outside Seattle in a place called Lake City. I was speaking to one of the rare staunch conservatives in the area on the bus and she informed me that she wouldn't even drive through our area. As it stands, I've had no problems. On our second day, on a walk to the farmer's market, we passed a recent drive by. But even this had a tinge of the farcical as one of the victims hobbled away, grabbing his posterior and complaining "my arse, my poor arse." We also had a woman who was rather inebriated keep us entertained at the bus stop. Now, everyone likes a complimentary drunk, the only problem is you don't know if and when they will start to sober up and realise we are no where near as nice as we appear and start to pick a fight (all in their heads obviously). But this woman remained in good spirits. Apparently I have a nice smile and a good face structure. Dave has dreamy eyes. We were offered am orgy but politely declined. We were told we make a cute couple though. The poor woman had just found out that she might have breast cancer, so I really couldn't blame her. Ok, maybe she took a bit of crack and meth as well, and was an alcoholic, but regardless, I'd be drunk as hell too.
Our first trip into Seattle was not what we were expecting. We stumbled upon the gay Pride parade, and what a way to enter a city!! The atmosphere was brimming with free abandon. All the gang folk were looking around cautiously - they were greatly outnumbered anyway and their discomfort provided a great source of amusement. It was a great atmosphere, even though it thwarted our attempts to find anything as all the roads were closed off.
A lot of our time has been used furniture and job hunting. We finally found a couch from someone who would deliver (this is another major set back in finding furniture). We took a while workling out the measurements and seeing if it would fit. We decided it would, at a push. Well, push came to shove came to 'wait, no, just try turning it left at the bottom and right at the top' and the walls were getting more bruised than we could fix. A little thought outside the box and we took the couch through bedroom, out on to the balcony and through the balcony door. Fit like a glove! We are still waiting to get a bed - a blow up mattress has done the trick so far.
It was 4th of July a couple of days ago so we decided to hit the fireworks. There was an all day celebration at the old site of a gas works factory. It was crowded but civilised - not what I'm used to! But the fireworks were amazing. Getting home was a hell of a hassle, but we managed it, after stopping into am Irish pub to wait for the masses to clear out.
We also met up with an old high school friend of mine. It was great to meet up with someone you haven't seen in years and we had a lovely BBQ in their garden. However, on the way home, we were told to get 2 buses, and one would give us transfer tickets for the other. We got the first then waited for the second. We showed our transfer tickets but were told they didn't work on that bus. We had no more money, no free cash machine near by and not much clue about the city. An extremely kind girl gave us $5 to get on the bus. We were both stunned into silence. We tried to decline the offer but she would have none of it. We got on the bus and sat again in stunned silence. I went back to her and tried to invite her out for a drink in return, but she just said she knows how hard it can be and that karma will sort her out. I'm still in awe really as no one has ever extended that kind of hand to me. But you can be sure, if that happens to someone else and I have money, the same kindness will be passed on. I think that's more what she would have wanted anyway.
On the other hand, we went to the DMV yesterday. it was a long wait so we hunkered down. There were 2 obvious meth heads there waiting too, they were a bit of a train wreck. The elderly gentleman who was sat next to them went up to do his thing and realised his wallet wasn't in his pocket. He went out to the car to look for it and came back in with his accusing finger ready. She got all defensive and walked out, at which point a quarter of the people in the room jumped up to chase her down and get his wallet back. Well, she gave him his wallet back. But the $500 he had in there was gone. Her friend had the gall to stay around and give the audience a bit of lip. The other girl by this point had run off and as we walked back to the car saw her friend getting arrested. But, it got the whole room talking to each other. This room was pretty much silent and segregated up until this point. Just goes to show it takes very little to bring out the social beast in human nature. Just a shame it takes something like that to break down those barriers.
7 May 2012
Idaho Falls - an insight
Well, since being here I would like to say a lot has happened. And it has, in a life revelation kind of way. But not in your everyday, something always happening kind of way. I run the risk of being one of those people who, when asked how their day went, begin by describing my morning ablutions, what I had for breakfast, how long it took me to drive to the shop etc. If there was something interesting to talk about, I would. Perhaps people get by on family and friends, and that is something I see a lot of. Some of Dave's family live around here, and I'm sure that is to be close to his grandmother, and they all chip in to help her out. She knows what she wants, I'll give her that, and does not mince her words in the telling. But she is equally as generous and kind, despite having to talk quite loudly. Dave has almost given up on this - I have become the grandmother-grandson translator.
I found work fairly quickly here, as did Dave. Both of us hated our first jobs. He was selling satellite TV door to door and I was working in a sports bar called the Frosty Gator. We went to this establishment just before I started to get a feel for a Friday night. Turns out they like to get messy just as much as the English and we saw a fight get broken up. This was apparently due to a woman who had legs like tree trunks behaving lewdly with another woman. I had seen a bit of this behaviour but had missed the move that got her chucked out - she jammed a hand up her counterpart's skirt. It was noticed by staff and swiftly dealt with while the man that they were with proudly swanned out after them. I bet he just gets to sit in the corner and watch personally, didn't look too much like the Casanova he obviously thought he was. When we had drunk our fill we went out the front to hail a taxi and were convinced by some locals to join them at a karaoke bar. With free drinks promised we tottered along. I would describe them, but they had little to no comic or interest value aside from getting us drinks, so I'll spare you. We ended up home safe and sound albeit a little wobbly around the edges. So far that's our only night out to date - go us!
Unfortunately the Frosty Gator turned out to be more hectic than it needed to be as far as working goes. All mistakes paid out of my wages in full. The people were nice but took very little interest in me. I mean, I'm not presuming that I'm worth talking to, but at least find out?! I had one customer enquire after hummus - so I started with chickpeas (first mistake, they're garbanzo beans out here. Yes, I know, weird) and as I got half way through the description he asked 'So, is it meat?' Reaching into the depths of self control I responded with the negative to which he replied 'Ah! Hell no then!' I desperately wanted to turn to someone and have a giggle, but wondered who I might offend in the process, so I kept it as my own personal joke til the end of the day.
The main relief here is shooting. Before this, I had shot a gun a handful of times, and that was under Dave's instruction also. But I now find I have an eye for rifle shooting, which I very much enjoy. Handguns are fun, but not as easy to aim, and shotguns are great fun and rewarding because you rarely miss a target. Sadly I'm not shooting bigot Idahoans but just bottles and any other target type stuff lying around. But honestly, I have never come away from shooting without feeling better. It's not even the big bang (which is disappointingly small on some guns), and I've yet to put my finger on what it is. It's not the power, I think it might just be the pure concentration that goes in to aiming and firing a gun. But out here there is plenty of space to shoot. I can understand why the gun laws are so lax, and the state also has the lowest instance of gun crime in the country. When people are piled on top of each other, keep strict gun laws. Out here, you can just drive out to the middle of nowhere and fire off a few rounds. Better than a therapist!
We spend our days off either shooting at shit (non-alive shit), or walking across amazing old lava flows or in the mountains. The scenery out here is something else. So much uninterrupted space with a mountainous backdrop. I miss trees though, well, forests. Apparently northern Idaho is good for that. I'm working in Idaho's version of a fine dining restaurant. It is nice, I'll give the place that, but it's not how I'd do things. So maybe I should put my money where my mouth is and open up my own place. Just get me the hell out of Idaho first!
I found work fairly quickly here, as did Dave. Both of us hated our first jobs. He was selling satellite TV door to door and I was working in a sports bar called the Frosty Gator. We went to this establishment just before I started to get a feel for a Friday night. Turns out they like to get messy just as much as the English and we saw a fight get broken up. This was apparently due to a woman who had legs like tree trunks behaving lewdly with another woman. I had seen a bit of this behaviour but had missed the move that got her chucked out - she jammed a hand up her counterpart's skirt. It was noticed by staff and swiftly dealt with while the man that they were with proudly swanned out after them. I bet he just gets to sit in the corner and watch personally, didn't look too much like the Casanova he obviously thought he was. When we had drunk our fill we went out the front to hail a taxi and were convinced by some locals to join them at a karaoke bar. With free drinks promised we tottered along. I would describe them, but they had little to no comic or interest value aside from getting us drinks, so I'll spare you. We ended up home safe and sound albeit a little wobbly around the edges. So far that's our only night out to date - go us!
Unfortunately the Frosty Gator turned out to be more hectic than it needed to be as far as working goes. All mistakes paid out of my wages in full. The people were nice but took very little interest in me. I mean, I'm not presuming that I'm worth talking to, but at least find out?! I had one customer enquire after hummus - so I started with chickpeas (first mistake, they're garbanzo beans out here. Yes, I know, weird) and as I got half way through the description he asked 'So, is it meat?' Reaching into the depths of self control I responded with the negative to which he replied 'Ah! Hell no then!' I desperately wanted to turn to someone and have a giggle, but wondered who I might offend in the process, so I kept it as my own personal joke til the end of the day.
The main relief here is shooting. Before this, I had shot a gun a handful of times, and that was under Dave's instruction also. But I now find I have an eye for rifle shooting, which I very much enjoy. Handguns are fun, but not as easy to aim, and shotguns are great fun and rewarding because you rarely miss a target. Sadly I'm not shooting bigot Idahoans but just bottles and any other target type stuff lying around. But honestly, I have never come away from shooting without feeling better. It's not even the big bang (which is disappointingly small on some guns), and I've yet to put my finger on what it is. It's not the power, I think it might just be the pure concentration that goes in to aiming and firing a gun. But out here there is plenty of space to shoot. I can understand why the gun laws are so lax, and the state also has the lowest instance of gun crime in the country. When people are piled on top of each other, keep strict gun laws. Out here, you can just drive out to the middle of nowhere and fire off a few rounds. Better than a therapist!
We spend our days off either shooting at shit (non-alive shit), or walking across amazing old lava flows or in the mountains. The scenery out here is something else. So much uninterrupted space with a mountainous backdrop. I miss trees though, well, forests. Apparently northern Idaho is good for that. I'm working in Idaho's version of a fine dining restaurant. It is nice, I'll give the place that, but it's not how I'd do things. So maybe I should put my money where my mouth is and open up my own place. Just get me the hell out of Idaho first!
9 Apr 2012
Traveling - a retrospect
Well, I have a lot more time on my hands now. Idaho is quite a far cry from central america or Bristol, entertainment revolves around the home, not the pub! So I thought I would use this time, whilst unemployed, to think about my traveling experience and what insight various countries provided me with.
For starters, traveling was not the constantly thrilling experience I was expecting. Don't get me wrong - you pack a whole hell of a lot into a lot less time, but there is still down time. And the down time feels more imposing as you don't have anywhere familiar to go to pass it. This is where I found a laptop was invaluable. Neither myself nor Rosie brought one along, but luckily Priscilla was a bit more prepared. There are days and nights where you just don't want to go out living it up, talking to random people and being generally gregarious. You welcome a screen to stare at in silence. Traveling can be quite demanding otherwise, and while I'm a sociable person, I can't be on form 24 hours a day.
I was also expecting to meet loads of amazing, cool fellow travelers. As it turns out, douche bags get everywhere, and finding those cool and amazing people is harder than finding the cool and amazing things to do. I was also hoping to learn things about myself, but more specifically, good things about myself. Unfortunately while learning good aspects of my personality, I also found that my hatred of the human race was merely reinforced. There is no where unique in the way that there are only good people. Everywhere you go you find arseholes, and I'm much less tolerant of it now than I was before I left. I may be better at masking it, but no less vitriolic in my belief of it. Some people see traveling as one giant piss up. And I'm not going to fool anyone (especially those who have seen the pictures) that I didn't partake. But it wasn't my main reason for going. Whereas some people seemed to be on permanent spring break - in some hostels there is a big push to get 'fucked up,' and I realised I don't drink well in those situations. I would much rather meet a good group of people and drink heavily only because you don't notice you're drinking due to great conversation. This seemed more of a 'let's drink until we like the people around us' kind of affair.
I wanted to come away feeling like we in the west have everything wrong, and the more impoverished countries, although a lack of money, had everything else nailed. Not so. I don't want to go and live in central america in the slums and make life better for people. Firstly, it's an arrogant assumption on my part to assume I have the answers to their problems because I have a comparatively privileged life. Rather, it has made me appreciate the luxuries I was took for granted - even things as simple as flushing toilet paper. One thing they do have right is the family unit. They have such a strong sense of family that it must be hard to feel lonely. But this graciousness doesn't extend much further than home and local community. People are very wary of outsiders, and probably have good historical reason to be. Tourists and travelers are walking wallets. For a long time I kept thinking 'if only they know how little money I actually have,' but then put it into perspective. I can afford to take 6 months off work, unpaid, and fly to another country and travel around and stay in a room with running water. Most people in the areas we were visiting live hand to mouth. A lot of the time they seem happy with their lot, but that is decreasing with the increase of western influence and TV. Despite the prevalence of TV (you can see even the poorest shack alight in the evenings with the glow of this beast) they are still interested by foreigners. And as I found out, blonde hair and blue eyes only serve to fascinate more.
Noise is something which is a part of everyday life. You get used to it to a certain degree, but at points it can still drive you insane. The northern countries loved their fireworks - day and night. Then, to accompany that, they have cars that drive up and down the street from 7 a.m. selling water, gas or politicians. On the buses children make a lot of noise and personal space is treasured though very rarely found. The locals on the bus think nothing of it and can fall asleep within seconds of their bum hitting the seat. I quite often had a groin or bum in my face, only thankful that I was sat down and not stood up! The young boys show no shame in looking down your top until asked to turn away. This is a mode of transport, although much more efficient than ours, is uncomfortable. But they make up for it by selling anything and everything. Honestly, this is the best idea ever. The bus stops, vendors get on selling medication, fruit & veg, burritos, fried chicken, water, fresh fruit juice in a bag, candy, stickers, and then get dropped off at another stop where they cross the road and get on another bus to take them back. I had lunch many a time like this, and it's not a futile endeavor for the vendors either - they walk off with fists full of money. At every opportunity people will try to sell you things. Homes are very rarely just homes, they usually have something to sell.
I was reading a book along the way which focused on Indian immigrants in England, and this helped me to understand what life must be like for someone coming from such crowded, loud countries, as much of central america is, and going into our world. The quiet is deafening and our society lacks a sense of community that it must be difficult to adjust. There is a certain level of comfort to be drawn from something going on around you all the time. Friends around all the time as well as family, and the murmur of life lulls you to sleep.
I feel like I've painted a rather one-sided view of this, but the traveling experience is amazing. Some people do it for their entire lives. I couldn't do that, but I'm going back, that's for sure. You need to find your stride and your way of traveling, and once you do that, you can settle into the adventure. When Rosie and I first arrived in Mexico it was raining and the hostel was almost empty. We sat on the bed in our room and wondered what the hell we had gotten ourselves in for. Within hours we had met a fascinating old guy and made friends with the owner who I still keep in contact with. It took me a little longer to settle in than the others, but you do suddenly realise one day that this is your life and you're no longer comparing it to life 'back home.' Overall it's one of the best experiences of my life, even when it was hard going, it all added to the experience.
One thing I do advise, if you want to get everything out of traveling, is to learn the local language. We missed out on so much, even just talking to locals, because we weren't conversational in the language. We also got ripped off quite a lot because of it. We realised how much we were missing when we got to Belize, where they speak English, and so many opportunities arose just from talking to the locals. If you don't talk to the locals, you don't earn their trust, and you will remain an obvious outsider. While you will always be an outsider, if you speak the language, they will be much more likely to take you into their home, feed you a meal and tell you the amazing things to do in the area that only a local would know.
I know what my brain is like and I know I will think of more things, so i intend to update the blog despite not quite being on the road at the moment. It may just be a critical view of the mid-western (oh wait, sorry, it's a high desert plain here, not the mid-west?!) way of life, and I do like judging people after all. And what a better place to do it!!
For starters, traveling was not the constantly thrilling experience I was expecting. Don't get me wrong - you pack a whole hell of a lot into a lot less time, but there is still down time. And the down time feels more imposing as you don't have anywhere familiar to go to pass it. This is where I found a laptop was invaluable. Neither myself nor Rosie brought one along, but luckily Priscilla was a bit more prepared. There are days and nights where you just don't want to go out living it up, talking to random people and being generally gregarious. You welcome a screen to stare at in silence. Traveling can be quite demanding otherwise, and while I'm a sociable person, I can't be on form 24 hours a day.
I was also expecting to meet loads of amazing, cool fellow travelers. As it turns out, douche bags get everywhere, and finding those cool and amazing people is harder than finding the cool and amazing things to do. I was also hoping to learn things about myself, but more specifically, good things about myself. Unfortunately while learning good aspects of my personality, I also found that my hatred of the human race was merely reinforced. There is no where unique in the way that there are only good people. Everywhere you go you find arseholes, and I'm much less tolerant of it now than I was before I left. I may be better at masking it, but no less vitriolic in my belief of it. Some people see traveling as one giant piss up. And I'm not going to fool anyone (especially those who have seen the pictures) that I didn't partake. But it wasn't my main reason for going. Whereas some people seemed to be on permanent spring break - in some hostels there is a big push to get 'fucked up,' and I realised I don't drink well in those situations. I would much rather meet a good group of people and drink heavily only because you don't notice you're drinking due to great conversation. This seemed more of a 'let's drink until we like the people around us' kind of affair.
I wanted to come away feeling like we in the west have everything wrong, and the more impoverished countries, although a lack of money, had everything else nailed. Not so. I don't want to go and live in central america in the slums and make life better for people. Firstly, it's an arrogant assumption on my part to assume I have the answers to their problems because I have a comparatively privileged life. Rather, it has made me appreciate the luxuries I was took for granted - even things as simple as flushing toilet paper. One thing they do have right is the family unit. They have such a strong sense of family that it must be hard to feel lonely. But this graciousness doesn't extend much further than home and local community. People are very wary of outsiders, and probably have good historical reason to be. Tourists and travelers are walking wallets. For a long time I kept thinking 'if only they know how little money I actually have,' but then put it into perspective. I can afford to take 6 months off work, unpaid, and fly to another country and travel around and stay in a room with running water. Most people in the areas we were visiting live hand to mouth. A lot of the time they seem happy with their lot, but that is decreasing with the increase of western influence and TV. Despite the prevalence of TV (you can see even the poorest shack alight in the evenings with the glow of this beast) they are still interested by foreigners. And as I found out, blonde hair and blue eyes only serve to fascinate more.
Noise is something which is a part of everyday life. You get used to it to a certain degree, but at points it can still drive you insane. The northern countries loved their fireworks - day and night. Then, to accompany that, they have cars that drive up and down the street from 7 a.m. selling water, gas or politicians. On the buses children make a lot of noise and personal space is treasured though very rarely found. The locals on the bus think nothing of it and can fall asleep within seconds of their bum hitting the seat. I quite often had a groin or bum in my face, only thankful that I was sat down and not stood up! The young boys show no shame in looking down your top until asked to turn away. This is a mode of transport, although much more efficient than ours, is uncomfortable. But they make up for it by selling anything and everything. Honestly, this is the best idea ever. The bus stops, vendors get on selling medication, fruit & veg, burritos, fried chicken, water, fresh fruit juice in a bag, candy, stickers, and then get dropped off at another stop where they cross the road and get on another bus to take them back. I had lunch many a time like this, and it's not a futile endeavor for the vendors either - they walk off with fists full of money. At every opportunity people will try to sell you things. Homes are very rarely just homes, they usually have something to sell.
I was reading a book along the way which focused on Indian immigrants in England, and this helped me to understand what life must be like for someone coming from such crowded, loud countries, as much of central america is, and going into our world. The quiet is deafening and our society lacks a sense of community that it must be difficult to adjust. There is a certain level of comfort to be drawn from something going on around you all the time. Friends around all the time as well as family, and the murmur of life lulls you to sleep.
I feel like I've painted a rather one-sided view of this, but the traveling experience is amazing. Some people do it for their entire lives. I couldn't do that, but I'm going back, that's for sure. You need to find your stride and your way of traveling, and once you do that, you can settle into the adventure. When Rosie and I first arrived in Mexico it was raining and the hostel was almost empty. We sat on the bed in our room and wondered what the hell we had gotten ourselves in for. Within hours we had met a fascinating old guy and made friends with the owner who I still keep in contact with. It took me a little longer to settle in than the others, but you do suddenly realise one day that this is your life and you're no longer comparing it to life 'back home.' Overall it's one of the best experiences of my life, even when it was hard going, it all added to the experience.
One thing I do advise, if you want to get everything out of traveling, is to learn the local language. We missed out on so much, even just talking to locals, because we weren't conversational in the language. We also got ripped off quite a lot because of it. We realised how much we were missing when we got to Belize, where they speak English, and so many opportunities arose just from talking to the locals. If you don't talk to the locals, you don't earn their trust, and you will remain an obvious outsider. While you will always be an outsider, if you speak the language, they will be much more likely to take you into their home, feed you a meal and tell you the amazing things to do in the area that only a local would know.
I know what my brain is like and I know I will think of more things, so i intend to update the blog despite not quite being on the road at the moment. It may just be a critical view of the mid-western (oh wait, sorry, it's a high desert plain here, not the mid-west?!) way of life, and I do like judging people after all. And what a better place to do it!!
6 Apr 2012
Lead Up to the End
Well, we finally tore ourselves away from the luxury of an air-conditioned room in Bocas for the cloud forests of the Chiriqui mountains. If only we had done this sooner. The surroundings were beautiful, with plenty of hikes and activities to do. The mountains were a bit chillier which makes hiking much easier. The hostel had a pantry full of food to buy, as well as a group meal you could participate in. Here we met a guy called JC who is planning to hike through the Darien straight. If you are unfamiliar with this territory, it is arguably one of the harshest terrains and most dangerous areas in central America. This is due to the guerillas who frequent the area as well as drug traffickers. You need a guide to take you through as there are no paths as such, and the Panamanian government are cutting down on the amount of people allowed to hike through the area. JC is the only person they are even considering this year. It's one of those things that would be an amazing story, but you are literally risking your life for the sake of a good story. But this guy is an avid hiker, and if anyone can do it, this charismatic man can.
While we were at the Lost and Found Hostel we did a coffee and wine tour of a local organic farm with a crazy/genius farmer as host. It was fascinating, and good fun to boot. We roasted our own coffee and sampled some of his homemade wine. Being the only English on the tour, they saw why it is dangerous to say 'all you can drink' when it comes to the Brits. The wine was quite vinegary, but for the simple methods he employed, it was quite palatable. We made pure cane juice and had a farm to table breakfast and lunch, followed by a hike back to the car. If you ever get the chance, do this tour! The hostel had a resident honey bear which took a shine to Dave after quite obviously giving me the cold shoulder. You can't win them all I guess!
After Lost and Found we moved on to David where we were assured we would appreciate an air conditioned room. They weren't wrong. We bumped into a couple of ladies in their 50s/60s who we had met at Lost and Found and spent an evening with them talking about the antics they used to get up to. They had been friends since they were 14 and their stories put me to shame! They were lovely and interesting, still very much with a zest for life and traveling. We stayed at an amazing hostel - a good crowd of people. As this was our last stop before the epic journey home, we organized a BBQ for the hostel which everyone got involved in. We had amazing burgers made by a proper Floridian BBQer, deviled eggs, kebabs, the lot. It was a nice way to go out. After visiting these places we were sorely disappointed that we hadn't explored more of Panama - there was a lot to do but we just didn't have the time to do it. When we go back down, we hope to do Panama again before sailing over to Columbia.
We made our way to San Jose in preparation for the flight. When we arrived, a taxi driver very kindly informed us that the president of Costa Rica was going to be visiting the next day therefore we should stay closer to the airport instead of going back to a hostel we liked when we visited last. The taxi journey cost us $30 only to find out after he left that there was no presidential visit - he just wanted to take us further out for a costlier taxi journey. Frustrating, but it reminds you that people prey on trusting people the world over.
We set out for the airport the next evening as our flight was at 1 a.m. We got to the airport at 9 as we had nowhere else to go. Everything was closed so we bought some beer and set up tent until check-in time. Something like 26 hours later we arrived in Boise, Idaho at midnight. We had spent more time in the airports than in the air and took 4 separate flights. San Jose to Fort Lauderdale, For Lauderdale to Memphis, Memphis to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to Boise. Truly exhausting. But when we got to our hotel room in Boise we reveled in the 'economy' luxury we were surrounded by. Hot water showers, TV in English, a big, comfy, unstained bed.
We are now in Idaho and nearly full-fledged Americans again. We have a bank account, searching for a car and Dave is now employed as a satellite TV salesman going door to door. I have an interview for some cafe work today and have spent the rest of the time driving around the local area getting a feel for the place. It is spartan countryside, which is quite impressive when you're used to the cramped British landscape. Snow-capped mountains line the horizon and Mormons wander around unteased. It's a friendly place, but I can see why crystal meth is a big problem in the area. Lacking stimulating things to do and fast food on every corner, it's a haven of poverty in the surrounding areas. There are lots of hikes to do which I'm looking forward to once it warms up, but I guess when you're a local, hiking doesn't have the same appeal.
Well, fingers crossed for the future, but so far England still very much feels like my home, Bristol especially. I don't think the American way of life is one that is appealing in the long term, but who knows, it's still early doors.
While we were at the Lost and Found Hostel we did a coffee and wine tour of a local organic farm with a crazy/genius farmer as host. It was fascinating, and good fun to boot. We roasted our own coffee and sampled some of his homemade wine. Being the only English on the tour, they saw why it is dangerous to say 'all you can drink' when it comes to the Brits. The wine was quite vinegary, but for the simple methods he employed, it was quite palatable. We made pure cane juice and had a farm to table breakfast and lunch, followed by a hike back to the car. If you ever get the chance, do this tour! The hostel had a resident honey bear which took a shine to Dave after quite obviously giving me the cold shoulder. You can't win them all I guess!
After Lost and Found we moved on to David where we were assured we would appreciate an air conditioned room. They weren't wrong. We bumped into a couple of ladies in their 50s/60s who we had met at Lost and Found and spent an evening with them talking about the antics they used to get up to. They had been friends since they were 14 and their stories put me to shame! They were lovely and interesting, still very much with a zest for life and traveling. We stayed at an amazing hostel - a good crowd of people. As this was our last stop before the epic journey home, we organized a BBQ for the hostel which everyone got involved in. We had amazing burgers made by a proper Floridian BBQer, deviled eggs, kebabs, the lot. It was a nice way to go out. After visiting these places we were sorely disappointed that we hadn't explored more of Panama - there was a lot to do but we just didn't have the time to do it. When we go back down, we hope to do Panama again before sailing over to Columbia.
We made our way to San Jose in preparation for the flight. When we arrived, a taxi driver very kindly informed us that the president of Costa Rica was going to be visiting the next day therefore we should stay closer to the airport instead of going back to a hostel we liked when we visited last. The taxi journey cost us $30 only to find out after he left that there was no presidential visit - he just wanted to take us further out for a costlier taxi journey. Frustrating, but it reminds you that people prey on trusting people the world over.
We set out for the airport the next evening as our flight was at 1 a.m. We got to the airport at 9 as we had nowhere else to go. Everything was closed so we bought some beer and set up tent until check-in time. Something like 26 hours later we arrived in Boise, Idaho at midnight. We had spent more time in the airports than in the air and took 4 separate flights. San Jose to Fort Lauderdale, For Lauderdale to Memphis, Memphis to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to Boise. Truly exhausting. But when we got to our hotel room in Boise we reveled in the 'economy' luxury we were surrounded by. Hot water showers, TV in English, a big, comfy, unstained bed.
We are now in Idaho and nearly full-fledged Americans again. We have a bank account, searching for a car and Dave is now employed as a satellite TV salesman going door to door. I have an interview for some cafe work today and have spent the rest of the time driving around the local area getting a feel for the place. It is spartan countryside, which is quite impressive when you're used to the cramped British landscape. Snow-capped mountains line the horizon and Mormons wander around unteased. It's a friendly place, but I can see why crystal meth is a big problem in the area. Lacking stimulating things to do and fast food on every corner, it's a haven of poverty in the surrounding areas. There are lots of hikes to do which I'm looking forward to once it warms up, but I guess when you're a local, hiking doesn't have the same appeal.
Well, fingers crossed for the future, but so far England still very much feels like my home, Bristol especially. I don't think the American way of life is one that is appealing in the long term, but who knows, it's still early doors.
17 Mar 2012
Falling Behind
Well, I am now in the last country of my adventure. Our plans changed dramatically when we realised how expensive it was going to be to get to Columbia. So, we are now going to the states at the end of March to stay with Dave's grandmother until we can save up enough money to do south america justice. The adventure is only continuing, with unexpected twists and turns.
The last time I wrote I was writing from Laguna de Apoyo, a beautiful, peaceful crater lake created by an imploded volcano. It was only minutes from Granada and yet so few people seem to know about it. It is one of those places that is still relatively undiscovered, and it was a happy retreat from the cities that had been throwing us around like pinballs. We didn't do much - went for a walk, saw two different kinds of monkeys and some beautiful birds, and swam.
From Apoyo we went to Isla de Ometepe - an island created by two formidable volcanoes. One of them is still active and both are a challenging climb (apparently!), but this doesn't worry the locals. It is a volcano they claim likes to go off little and often, so it isn't saving up some catastrophic amount of lava which will wipe out the small population (which I am sure is now half hippy gringo). On our first full day there we decided to rent a 'moto' which is like a dirtbike as the roads are almost non-existent. When they realised neither myself nor Dave could actually function the thing, they let us go with an automatic scooter akin to the ones you see teenagers revving around on in England. As I had driven one before, I took the lead. It all started very well, and then we got to a junction. This stupid machine is deceptively bulky and I couldn't take the corner so drove it into a bush instead. A little shaken and having a policeman stare hard at our licences and our faces, he told us the man should drive. So Dave, looking a little scared, gave it a test run and I jumped on back. We were going along straight when Dave slowed down around some school children. Rule number one on a scooter - maintain a constant, decent speed. So, we wobbled, went down in front of a load of locals, and came out badly grazed, but nothing broken. The locals then charged us $2 to use a mobile phone for 30 seconds to call our hostel as we didn't want to drive the thing again. It's nice to see that in a time of need someone is always there to make money off of you. An old man came up and put some form of oil on our wounds as we waited for the scooter guy to come and pick us up. He took advantage of our shaken and shocked state and charged us $380 to fix a scooter that had nothing wrong with the engine. On the way to get the money out, the guy stopped off to buy some cable ties and a bulb for the smashed light. I appreciate that tourists and travelers are now paying back for the constant rape of their country by others, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Because of this accident we ended up staying in a cool little hostel with our own casita until I was able to walk again. They cleaned and dressed my foot which was well on its way to a nasty infection and were just very good to us. If you are ever in Ometepe, stay at Little Morgans. Good people, good vibe.
After 4 days of doing nothing on the island, we finally made our way to Poste Rojo, a place I have been aiming for since I started traveling. It's a hostel in the trees, and it is beautiful. The private rooms are not very private, unless you get your own personal treehouse, but most people are there to party. We turned up a day before the free rum night and had a good night chatting and drinking. Howler monkeys were everywhere overhead, 2 kittens, and cicada season just coming to an end. This bugs are big and stupid and will fly into anything with any form of light on it. And they are deafeningly loud at certain times of day. But Dave loves to poke things, and he managed to catch himself a few cicadas which he proudly danced around with. They do seem like good insects for a rave - they make the right kind of buzzing noise and he had me in hysterics as he danced around on the porch to an invisible drum n bass beat. Unfortunately, that night, I came down with another 12 hour stomach bug leaving me useless the next day. I kept trying to gear up for free rum, but my body was pretty adamant it was a bad idea, and I had to agree. We offered to cook dinner for the hostel in return for free food, which would have been great had it not been for the owner. Instead of leaving us to our devices, he disappeared out back for a sniff of the white stuff, came out and essentially told us what to do. He kept saying I was doing the rice wrong, how to chop veg, it was ridiculous. But one of those characatures that needs to be seen to be believed, He was quite the arrogant character, saying he could run the place all by himself if he needed to blah blah blah...
We got out of there fairly promptly despite the beautiful setting. So much more could be done with the place, but it did seem like a neverending task trying to keep it going at the level it was at. So we decided to treat ourselves to a night of hot showers and TV in Granada. It was positively spiritual.
From Granada we made our way to Costa Rica with every intention of just flying through. Didn't happen that way though. We quite liked San Jose despite what other travelers had told us. But this might just be because it is so Americanised it is just familiar. We stayed in a cool little hostel which we followed other people from our bus to. We ended up there for 2 nights and explored the various parks in San Jose, one of which had a little lake/pond which had people zooming around in jet skis and power boats. We decided to treat ourselves to a Subway - a treat which cost us $16. No Subway is worth that much. So we started to learn that it is as expensive as everyone said it was.
From there we decided to go to the pacific coast town of Montezuma. We turned up with no reservations and checked in to the cheapest place we could find. It may have had its own bathroom, but it felt like a prison cell. It had a hole in the wall for a window which had metal bars covering it for 'security.' As we walked along the beach we noticed that the entire ocean was red. A deep red that frothed up on the beach leaving behind a trail of dead and tortured looking fish. We were told that red tide had come in about a month previous and still hadn't left. Red tide is basically red algae which starves the sea of oxygen. Some people are safe to swim in it and others come out in a rash. Knowing my skin, I didn't risk it. Instead, a local gringo showed us the way to the beautiful waterfalls in the area. It was a bit of a walk over rocks and rivers, but was a lovely little swimming place. As my foot was, and still is, healing, I didn't swim very much. I can now say i've seen my muscle once, I don't want to see it again! We moved hostels to a place on the beach and just took it easy. Unfortunately I can't put hiking boots on as the area is still tender, so our activities were limited.
From there we went over to Puerto Viejo which has a reputation for partying. As I don't like enforced partying, I was reticent. But as it turns out, we met a group of amazing Oregonians who were welcoming and generous and had an excellent sense of party. We probably partied a bit too much, but it was worth it. Unfortunately the weather was not on our side and the rip tides were intense, so swimming was minimal. It may have been on the Caribbean coast, but it looked more like the pacific with ominous waves and sky. But the hostel we stayed in was called Rockin J's and our bed was up a ladder with a mirror on the ceiling and mosaics everywhere.
We then moved on to Bocas del Toro in Panama, which is where we are now. It's an archipelago and another party town. We stayed 2 nights in a party hostel in which our room was just on the other side of the bar. We slept through the first day recovering from our party at Puerto Viejo. Again, the weather was terrible but we took a bike ride none the less out to La Gruta, a little cave guarded by a statue of Mary. On the ride back the heavens opened and we got drenched, much to the amusement of passers by. We decided to make our way over to one of the other islands - Isla Bastimentos, and stayed in a hostel with hot water and air conditioning for only $20. Heaven. But again, it was pouring with rain the first day. The second day we had the morning to go down to a lovely beach where tiny red frogs populate the beach. But I have a feeling that they are not long for that habitat because of the tourism being built up around it. After 2 nights we moved to another island - Isla Caranero and stayed at a hostel built entirely over the water. Another party hostel, it is more a place to spend the day and evening than to stay. But stay we did and enjoyed the water trampoline and water swings. To tide our budget over and have a nice dinner, we drank through lunch and went to a restaurant over the water where we were eaten alive by sand flies, but it was a great setting. Since the staff were not all that accommodating, we left after one night and are now in a hotel room with its own laptop, hot water and flat screen TV for $5 more than the shack room we were in before.We have given up the party ghost and are pretty much just sitting in AC and watching TV. It may be a Saturday, but eh, I can party back at home. Hopefully on Monday we will be taking a snorkel trip out to a dolphin breeding area as the weather is slowly clearing up. As for the unique, local experience, I've had enough. I've done the chicken buses crammed with sweaty locals who fall asleep the moment the bus starts moving, I've stayed in local villages, I've stayed in dumps of hostels and had an amazing time, but every now and again I like to be reminded of the creature comforts I took for granted. A hot shower now fills me with unspeakable joy, a bed that actually fits in the room is luxury. We are now approaching spring break and the smell of hormones, cocaine and latex are in the air. Good luck to them. I hope they have a great time and remember almost nothing about it. I've been there, done that, and do look on them with a certain amount of envy. But the other side of me loves the fact that I can enjoy other things now without tequila to oil the cogs. Although, don't get me wrong, tequila is still the perfect way to kick start any evening.
The last time I wrote I was writing from Laguna de Apoyo, a beautiful, peaceful crater lake created by an imploded volcano. It was only minutes from Granada and yet so few people seem to know about it. It is one of those places that is still relatively undiscovered, and it was a happy retreat from the cities that had been throwing us around like pinballs. We didn't do much - went for a walk, saw two different kinds of monkeys and some beautiful birds, and swam.
From Apoyo we went to Isla de Ometepe - an island created by two formidable volcanoes. One of them is still active and both are a challenging climb (apparently!), but this doesn't worry the locals. It is a volcano they claim likes to go off little and often, so it isn't saving up some catastrophic amount of lava which will wipe out the small population (which I am sure is now half hippy gringo). On our first full day there we decided to rent a 'moto' which is like a dirtbike as the roads are almost non-existent. When they realised neither myself nor Dave could actually function the thing, they let us go with an automatic scooter akin to the ones you see teenagers revving around on in England. As I had driven one before, I took the lead. It all started very well, and then we got to a junction. This stupid machine is deceptively bulky and I couldn't take the corner so drove it into a bush instead. A little shaken and having a policeman stare hard at our licences and our faces, he told us the man should drive. So Dave, looking a little scared, gave it a test run and I jumped on back. We were going along straight when Dave slowed down around some school children. Rule number one on a scooter - maintain a constant, decent speed. So, we wobbled, went down in front of a load of locals, and came out badly grazed, but nothing broken. The locals then charged us $2 to use a mobile phone for 30 seconds to call our hostel as we didn't want to drive the thing again. It's nice to see that in a time of need someone is always there to make money off of you. An old man came up and put some form of oil on our wounds as we waited for the scooter guy to come and pick us up. He took advantage of our shaken and shocked state and charged us $380 to fix a scooter that had nothing wrong with the engine. On the way to get the money out, the guy stopped off to buy some cable ties and a bulb for the smashed light. I appreciate that tourists and travelers are now paying back for the constant rape of their country by others, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Because of this accident we ended up staying in a cool little hostel with our own casita until I was able to walk again. They cleaned and dressed my foot which was well on its way to a nasty infection and were just very good to us. If you are ever in Ometepe, stay at Little Morgans. Good people, good vibe.
After 4 days of doing nothing on the island, we finally made our way to Poste Rojo, a place I have been aiming for since I started traveling. It's a hostel in the trees, and it is beautiful. The private rooms are not very private, unless you get your own personal treehouse, but most people are there to party. We turned up a day before the free rum night and had a good night chatting and drinking. Howler monkeys were everywhere overhead, 2 kittens, and cicada season just coming to an end. This bugs are big and stupid and will fly into anything with any form of light on it. And they are deafeningly loud at certain times of day. But Dave loves to poke things, and he managed to catch himself a few cicadas which he proudly danced around with. They do seem like good insects for a rave - they make the right kind of buzzing noise and he had me in hysterics as he danced around on the porch to an invisible drum n bass beat. Unfortunately, that night, I came down with another 12 hour stomach bug leaving me useless the next day. I kept trying to gear up for free rum, but my body was pretty adamant it was a bad idea, and I had to agree. We offered to cook dinner for the hostel in return for free food, which would have been great had it not been for the owner. Instead of leaving us to our devices, he disappeared out back for a sniff of the white stuff, came out and essentially told us what to do. He kept saying I was doing the rice wrong, how to chop veg, it was ridiculous. But one of those characatures that needs to be seen to be believed, He was quite the arrogant character, saying he could run the place all by himself if he needed to blah blah blah...
We got out of there fairly promptly despite the beautiful setting. So much more could be done with the place, but it did seem like a neverending task trying to keep it going at the level it was at. So we decided to treat ourselves to a night of hot showers and TV in Granada. It was positively spiritual.
From Granada we made our way to Costa Rica with every intention of just flying through. Didn't happen that way though. We quite liked San Jose despite what other travelers had told us. But this might just be because it is so Americanised it is just familiar. We stayed in a cool little hostel which we followed other people from our bus to. We ended up there for 2 nights and explored the various parks in San Jose, one of which had a little lake/pond which had people zooming around in jet skis and power boats. We decided to treat ourselves to a Subway - a treat which cost us $16. No Subway is worth that much. So we started to learn that it is as expensive as everyone said it was.
From there we decided to go to the pacific coast town of Montezuma. We turned up with no reservations and checked in to the cheapest place we could find. It may have had its own bathroom, but it felt like a prison cell. It had a hole in the wall for a window which had metal bars covering it for 'security.' As we walked along the beach we noticed that the entire ocean was red. A deep red that frothed up on the beach leaving behind a trail of dead and tortured looking fish. We were told that red tide had come in about a month previous and still hadn't left. Red tide is basically red algae which starves the sea of oxygen. Some people are safe to swim in it and others come out in a rash. Knowing my skin, I didn't risk it. Instead, a local gringo showed us the way to the beautiful waterfalls in the area. It was a bit of a walk over rocks and rivers, but was a lovely little swimming place. As my foot was, and still is, healing, I didn't swim very much. I can now say i've seen my muscle once, I don't want to see it again! We moved hostels to a place on the beach and just took it easy. Unfortunately I can't put hiking boots on as the area is still tender, so our activities were limited.
From there we went over to Puerto Viejo which has a reputation for partying. As I don't like enforced partying, I was reticent. But as it turns out, we met a group of amazing Oregonians who were welcoming and generous and had an excellent sense of party. We probably partied a bit too much, but it was worth it. Unfortunately the weather was not on our side and the rip tides were intense, so swimming was minimal. It may have been on the Caribbean coast, but it looked more like the pacific with ominous waves and sky. But the hostel we stayed in was called Rockin J's and our bed was up a ladder with a mirror on the ceiling and mosaics everywhere.
We then moved on to Bocas del Toro in Panama, which is where we are now. It's an archipelago and another party town. We stayed 2 nights in a party hostel in which our room was just on the other side of the bar. We slept through the first day recovering from our party at Puerto Viejo. Again, the weather was terrible but we took a bike ride none the less out to La Gruta, a little cave guarded by a statue of Mary. On the ride back the heavens opened and we got drenched, much to the amusement of passers by. We decided to make our way over to one of the other islands - Isla Bastimentos, and stayed in a hostel with hot water and air conditioning for only $20. Heaven. But again, it was pouring with rain the first day. The second day we had the morning to go down to a lovely beach where tiny red frogs populate the beach. But I have a feeling that they are not long for that habitat because of the tourism being built up around it. After 2 nights we moved to another island - Isla Caranero and stayed at a hostel built entirely over the water. Another party hostel, it is more a place to spend the day and evening than to stay. But stay we did and enjoyed the water trampoline and water swings. To tide our budget over and have a nice dinner, we drank through lunch and went to a restaurant over the water where we were eaten alive by sand flies, but it was a great setting. Since the staff were not all that accommodating, we left after one night and are now in a hotel room with its own laptop, hot water and flat screen TV for $5 more than the shack room we were in before.We have given up the party ghost and are pretty much just sitting in AC and watching TV. It may be a Saturday, but eh, I can party back at home. Hopefully on Monday we will be taking a snorkel trip out to a dolphin breeding area as the weather is slowly clearing up. As for the unique, local experience, I've had enough. I've done the chicken buses crammed with sweaty locals who fall asleep the moment the bus starts moving, I've stayed in local villages, I've stayed in dumps of hostels and had an amazing time, but every now and again I like to be reminded of the creature comforts I took for granted. A hot shower now fills me with unspeakable joy, a bed that actually fits in the room is luxury. We are now approaching spring break and the smell of hormones, cocaine and latex are in the air. Good luck to them. I hope they have a great time and remember almost nothing about it. I've been there, done that, and do look on them with a certain amount of envy. But the other side of me loves the fact that I can enjoy other things now without tequila to oil the cogs. Although, don't get me wrong, tequila is still the perfect way to kick start any evening.
21 Feb 2012
Honduras in a Nutshell
Honduras overall only needs to be given a nutshell. It is not a much traversed place by travellers and is still fairly dangerous. Once we left our friends on Utila, we made our way on the aptly nicknamed ´vomit comet´ ferry. We decided to treat ourselves to a bit of white water rafting down the Rio Cangrejal. We stayed in a little eco lodge where they actually ask that you put toilet paper down the toilet. This sounds like a weird luxury, but after 3 months of having what has been dubbed the ´shit bin´ (the bin for your dirty toilet paper) staring you in the face, it really was refreshing. We had a crazy Irish guy as our head rafter, and we definitely had the most fun out of all the groups. We got pummelled by water and Dave went overboard, just excellent fun.
We then decided to head to Lago De Yojoa to stay at a micro-brewery. It was a lovely little place and Honduras is chock full of beautiful butterflies and birds and the beer was on draft and great. But as you can imagine with birds come bird watchers. I have since realised that bird watchers are a unique crowd and there is a reason they keep to themselves. We spent a couple of quiet days there and decided to take the advice of the owner on a different route to travel into El Salvador. Most of the way the road is unpaved, but we thought, sod it, we´ve come for an adventure. We took 3 different chicken buses to get to La Esperanza, where were told that we could get a bus to El Salvador. As it turns out, we got to La Esperanza and they said there was no way were going to make it to El Salvador today, we would have to stay in ´Colo´ for the night and get the bus at 5 the next morning direct to San Salvador. This was at 12 in the afternoon. We got on the bus to ´Colo´and by 4:30 we had reached Colomancagua, the farthest of the gringo trail I have ventured yet. The road to it was dusty and unpaved as was warned so we were more than happy to get off. I went into a little shop to find somewhere that did accomodation and we found ourselves a little room. The shower and toilet were in the room with us, shielded by a shower curtain over each. And yet, it had cable TV. The owners were lovely and despite our limited conversational skills they were very accomodating. Unfortunately, we found out that the bus to San Salvador doesn´t run on a Sunday, so we would have to spend an extra night. It started to chuck down with rain, but we went out anyway and bought a bottle rum and a bag of crisps to tide us over til dinner. As it turns out, places shut down quite early on a Saturday and we ended up going without dinner, but at least not without rum! The storm worsened and the electricity went out, so for the rest of the night. But we had a candle and an amazing electrical storm to watch. I´ve never seen lightening like it - every 5 - 10 seconds for hours. We woke up the next day and the electricity was still out, so we went for a walk and discovered it was market day. It was obviously the social event of the week and wasn´t much frequented by foreigners as I have never been stared at so much in my life. We actually had one drunken reveller (very drunk I might add) ask why we had come to this village. I think more by way of ´Why would you bother?´ than a get lost statement.
The next morning we deaprted at 5 in the morning with our hotel owner waving us good-bye. As we left we realised we had been staying in Hotel Dios, God´s Hotel. Again we got stared at quite intently as it was obviously a worker´s bus and mounted more unpaved roads. We got to San Miguel in El Salvador without having any form of real border crossing, just a couple of gaurds who stared malevolently at out passports. We were told here to get off to transfer to the capital, San Salvador. The thing I love about buses here is people come on and sell you everything you could possibly need. Hamburgers, fries, vegetables, fruits, crisps, water, juice, medication - I honestly wish we had this in England. So we were duly entertained for the hour bus journey to San Salvador by people selling us all sorts of stuff. Once there, we realised San Salvador was a horrible, sprawling place and headed straight to Playa Del Tunco, a nearby volcanic beach littered with surfers. So another 2 buses later, again around 4 in the afternoon, we landed at the beach. I was so exausted I could hardly speak and bedtime was swift upon me. Playa Del Tunco was nice for a couple of days if you don´t mind the narly man surfer dudes who think they are god´s gift to women. The beach was beautiful as I had never seen a black sand beach before, and tumbling around in the waves, even without a surf board, is much more fun than lounging in the Caribbean sea. Despite a bit of a run-in with the tourist police, it was fairly uneventful. Don´t worry, no prison tales yet, just a waggle of the finger and an óff you go.´
We had our fun with beaches, rum and coconuts there and headed straight back out of El Salvador, acutely aware that we had no stamp out of Honduras. We were about to chicken bus and chance it when a guy stopped where we were waiting for the bus and asked where we were going. As it turned out he was heading the same way, and I´d rather travel in a lexus than an old bluebird school bus any day. He managed to convince us to take a swanky bus as it was an 11 hour journey, called up, made arrangements for us, dropped us at the terminal and went on his merry way. We could not believe how much he did to help us out, and the very expensive bus journey was so unbelievably worth it. More leg room than I could shake a stick at, burger king lunch and dinner included in the cost, and 3 border crossings dealt with for us. Apart from the Honduran border. We were asked to get off the bus and talk to immigration. Here they insisted that Honduras has no lapse in their border, but for a small fee of $20 each, we could get our passports back-stamped. This day was my most expensive day to date, but I still reckon that bus was worth it. No one sitting in your lap, or an arse in your face, or a child being sick into a bag. Bliss.
This brings me almost up to date! We are now in Nicaragua, much safer than Honduras or El Salvador, and very beautiful. We stayed in Managua when we first arrived for 2 nights. Don´t ever bother doing this. Not much to see but a huge polluted lake that you run the risk of being mugged if you go to look at up close. General muted hostility from the locals and bloody hot.
We moved on to Leon where we bumped into a couple of guys we had chilled with in El Salvador who are cycling through central America. Nutters. Leon is lovely; colonial, friendly and laid back. We did volcano boarding at Cerro Negro, where you basically hike up a volcano and throw yourself down it on a board. Awesome fun! Unfortunately, there was a guy on the same tour who I had come across before. He is the typical hiking 'I´ve done everything and want to tell you all about it´ kinda guy. It provided amusement as Dave instantly picked up on this guys ultimate ego trip. It was greatly amusing at least.
The water is calling my name yet again, so I'll leave it there for now. There is more to tell, and grand plans to tell, mañana mañana!
We then decided to head to Lago De Yojoa to stay at a micro-brewery. It was a lovely little place and Honduras is chock full of beautiful butterflies and birds and the beer was on draft and great. But as you can imagine with birds come bird watchers. I have since realised that bird watchers are a unique crowd and there is a reason they keep to themselves. We spent a couple of quiet days there and decided to take the advice of the owner on a different route to travel into El Salvador. Most of the way the road is unpaved, but we thought, sod it, we´ve come for an adventure. We took 3 different chicken buses to get to La Esperanza, where were told that we could get a bus to El Salvador. As it turns out, we got to La Esperanza and they said there was no way were going to make it to El Salvador today, we would have to stay in ´Colo´ for the night and get the bus at 5 the next morning direct to San Salvador. This was at 12 in the afternoon. We got on the bus to ´Colo´and by 4:30 we had reached Colomancagua, the farthest of the gringo trail I have ventured yet. The road to it was dusty and unpaved as was warned so we were more than happy to get off. I went into a little shop to find somewhere that did accomodation and we found ourselves a little room. The shower and toilet were in the room with us, shielded by a shower curtain over each. And yet, it had cable TV. The owners were lovely and despite our limited conversational skills they were very accomodating. Unfortunately, we found out that the bus to San Salvador doesn´t run on a Sunday, so we would have to spend an extra night. It started to chuck down with rain, but we went out anyway and bought a bottle rum and a bag of crisps to tide us over til dinner. As it turns out, places shut down quite early on a Saturday and we ended up going without dinner, but at least not without rum! The storm worsened and the electricity went out, so for the rest of the night. But we had a candle and an amazing electrical storm to watch. I´ve never seen lightening like it - every 5 - 10 seconds for hours. We woke up the next day and the electricity was still out, so we went for a walk and discovered it was market day. It was obviously the social event of the week and wasn´t much frequented by foreigners as I have never been stared at so much in my life. We actually had one drunken reveller (very drunk I might add) ask why we had come to this village. I think more by way of ´Why would you bother?´ than a get lost statement.
The next morning we deaprted at 5 in the morning with our hotel owner waving us good-bye. As we left we realised we had been staying in Hotel Dios, God´s Hotel. Again we got stared at quite intently as it was obviously a worker´s bus and mounted more unpaved roads. We got to San Miguel in El Salvador without having any form of real border crossing, just a couple of gaurds who stared malevolently at out passports. We were told here to get off to transfer to the capital, San Salvador. The thing I love about buses here is people come on and sell you everything you could possibly need. Hamburgers, fries, vegetables, fruits, crisps, water, juice, medication - I honestly wish we had this in England. So we were duly entertained for the hour bus journey to San Salvador by people selling us all sorts of stuff. Once there, we realised San Salvador was a horrible, sprawling place and headed straight to Playa Del Tunco, a nearby volcanic beach littered with surfers. So another 2 buses later, again around 4 in the afternoon, we landed at the beach. I was so exausted I could hardly speak and bedtime was swift upon me. Playa Del Tunco was nice for a couple of days if you don´t mind the narly man surfer dudes who think they are god´s gift to women. The beach was beautiful as I had never seen a black sand beach before, and tumbling around in the waves, even without a surf board, is much more fun than lounging in the Caribbean sea. Despite a bit of a run-in with the tourist police, it was fairly uneventful. Don´t worry, no prison tales yet, just a waggle of the finger and an óff you go.´
We had our fun with beaches, rum and coconuts there and headed straight back out of El Salvador, acutely aware that we had no stamp out of Honduras. We were about to chicken bus and chance it when a guy stopped where we were waiting for the bus and asked where we were going. As it turned out he was heading the same way, and I´d rather travel in a lexus than an old bluebird school bus any day. He managed to convince us to take a swanky bus as it was an 11 hour journey, called up, made arrangements for us, dropped us at the terminal and went on his merry way. We could not believe how much he did to help us out, and the very expensive bus journey was so unbelievably worth it. More leg room than I could shake a stick at, burger king lunch and dinner included in the cost, and 3 border crossings dealt with for us. Apart from the Honduran border. We were asked to get off the bus and talk to immigration. Here they insisted that Honduras has no lapse in their border, but for a small fee of $20 each, we could get our passports back-stamped. This day was my most expensive day to date, but I still reckon that bus was worth it. No one sitting in your lap, or an arse in your face, or a child being sick into a bag. Bliss.
This brings me almost up to date! We are now in Nicaragua, much safer than Honduras or El Salvador, and very beautiful. We stayed in Managua when we first arrived for 2 nights. Don´t ever bother doing this. Not much to see but a huge polluted lake that you run the risk of being mugged if you go to look at up close. General muted hostility from the locals and bloody hot.
We moved on to Leon where we bumped into a couple of guys we had chilled with in El Salvador who are cycling through central America. Nutters. Leon is lovely; colonial, friendly and laid back. We did volcano boarding at Cerro Negro, where you basically hike up a volcano and throw yourself down it on a board. Awesome fun! Unfortunately, there was a guy on the same tour who I had come across before. He is the typical hiking 'I´ve done everything and want to tell you all about it´ kinda guy. It provided amusement as Dave instantly picked up on this guys ultimate ego trip. It was greatly amusing at least.
The water is calling my name yet again, so I'll leave it there for now. There is more to tell, and grand plans to tell, mañana mañana!
9 Feb 2012
Beach Bum
Now to update on everything over the past month. We spent longer than we should have done on Caye Caulker, although we saw Manatees and did an amazing snorkeling trip which ended with me almost blind drunk from the free rum punch they serve on the way back. We then moved over to San Pedro, its larger, sister island. We had a room with cable TV, our own bathroom, fridge, and the most impressive of all, hot water! Rosie and I initially headed over on our own and saw the TV, a sight our eyes had not clapped on in 2 months. We went straight out and bought a bottle of wine and settled down for a night of watching television. It was glorious. We ended up watching a lot of television while we were on San Pedro, and my eyes just are not used to it. They started to ache and I got a headache. Perhaps watching TV is not a healthy thing for children, I´m sure damage must be done to the eyes. Don´t get me wrong, I haven´t gone over to the other side, but when I get back in an environment where television is everywhere, I will make sure to curb my viewing.
Swedish friends of ours, Eric and Ida, wanted to join up with us again to do an island hopping sailing tour with our travel buddy Pricsilla. We met up and went on to a little camping spot called Barton Creek Outpost, a beautiful setting in the middle of nowhere. We canoed over to a cave and got ourselves a discount tour as the boss was away.The guy took us in and we got the rare treat of being able to hike above the water in the cave, something we were told they stopped doing years ago. It was lots of fun and then got to swim in the river that runs through the cave. As we left, we came across some Menonite teenagers sneaking their way in on a boat. There are a surprising number of Menonites who keep themselves to themselves, but are always happy to give you a wave as you drive past.
Rosie and I then moved on and took the opportunity to spend some time together travelling through southern Belize. We hopped on a little fishing boat from the Garifuna town of Dangriga and made our way over to Tobacco Caye, an island that takes 2 minutes to walk around. It is an island directly on the reef with amazing snorkelling from the moment you put your head under. But the best sight was seen in the boat on the way - my first live dolphin viewing. Just incredible. We stayed on the Caye for one night, a night enjoyed with some great Americans with a brilliant sense of humour (no, I´m not joking) and trdiational Garifuna drumming.
We then made our way to Hopkins on what felt like the party bus of Belize. Everyone was in grand spirits shouting and laughing with beers in hand. We ended up staying at a place called the Funky Dodo upon someone´s recommendation, and we were not disappointed. It is run by an English guy from Brighton who has a keen eye for a party. We ended up being invited to a party for the opening of a bar on a wharf. It was a brilliant night which ended in the morning with Rosie holding my hair and stroking my back as I emptied my stomach into a pan by the side of the bed. Classy, no, but a price worth paying, yes! Hopkins is a fishing village with a lovely, friendly vibe. A very laid back place and one of the cheapest places we found in Belize. I only wish we could have spent more time there.
We then moved on to find our friends off the sailing boat in Placencia and move on to the Rio Dulce in Guatemala as we had heard amazing things. We stayed in Livingston in an alcoholic hostel where they practically bully you into drinking. This is by no means a complaint. But I got a call while I was staying there - Dave, my boyfriend, had lost his job back in England and was coming out for the rest of the trip, but I got the day he was coming mixed up and he arrived a day earlier than I anticipated. As I practically fell over myself to get to him, I went up the Rio Dulce, not really paying much attention to the surroundings (a bit of a disappointment anyway) and awaited his arrival. When he arrived I couldn´t stop shaking for ages, funny what happiness can do.
We then made our way over to Honduras and the Bay Islands so people could do the insanely cheap PADI courses which are supplied there. I decided not to do the course, a very tough decision made harder by all my travelling buddies bar Dave doing it. But we got an amazing deal - we got free accomodation in a lovely cottage with kitchen, dining area and living room. It was nice to have a sort of base. But that is where we left Rosie and the rest, they may join later, but the pull of Utila is strong, and lots of people end up staying for a while.
I have now had a call to go to the beach, we are now in El Salvador, but the next leg of our journey was amusingly intense and requires more time than I have to give at the moment. I can see you holding on to your seats, but it´s ok, I´ll be back.
Swedish friends of ours, Eric and Ida, wanted to join up with us again to do an island hopping sailing tour with our travel buddy Pricsilla. We met up and went on to a little camping spot called Barton Creek Outpost, a beautiful setting in the middle of nowhere. We canoed over to a cave and got ourselves a discount tour as the boss was away.The guy took us in and we got the rare treat of being able to hike above the water in the cave, something we were told they stopped doing years ago. It was lots of fun and then got to swim in the river that runs through the cave. As we left, we came across some Menonite teenagers sneaking their way in on a boat. There are a surprising number of Menonites who keep themselves to themselves, but are always happy to give you a wave as you drive past.
Rosie and I then moved on and took the opportunity to spend some time together travelling through southern Belize. We hopped on a little fishing boat from the Garifuna town of Dangriga and made our way over to Tobacco Caye, an island that takes 2 minutes to walk around. It is an island directly on the reef with amazing snorkelling from the moment you put your head under. But the best sight was seen in the boat on the way - my first live dolphin viewing. Just incredible. We stayed on the Caye for one night, a night enjoyed with some great Americans with a brilliant sense of humour (no, I´m not joking) and trdiational Garifuna drumming.
We then made our way to Hopkins on what felt like the party bus of Belize. Everyone was in grand spirits shouting and laughing with beers in hand. We ended up staying at a place called the Funky Dodo upon someone´s recommendation, and we were not disappointed. It is run by an English guy from Brighton who has a keen eye for a party. We ended up being invited to a party for the opening of a bar on a wharf. It was a brilliant night which ended in the morning with Rosie holding my hair and stroking my back as I emptied my stomach into a pan by the side of the bed. Classy, no, but a price worth paying, yes! Hopkins is a fishing village with a lovely, friendly vibe. A very laid back place and one of the cheapest places we found in Belize. I only wish we could have spent more time there.
We then moved on to find our friends off the sailing boat in Placencia and move on to the Rio Dulce in Guatemala as we had heard amazing things. We stayed in Livingston in an alcoholic hostel where they practically bully you into drinking. This is by no means a complaint. But I got a call while I was staying there - Dave, my boyfriend, had lost his job back in England and was coming out for the rest of the trip, but I got the day he was coming mixed up and he arrived a day earlier than I anticipated. As I practically fell over myself to get to him, I went up the Rio Dulce, not really paying much attention to the surroundings (a bit of a disappointment anyway) and awaited his arrival. When he arrived I couldn´t stop shaking for ages, funny what happiness can do.
We then made our way over to Honduras and the Bay Islands so people could do the insanely cheap PADI courses which are supplied there. I decided not to do the course, a very tough decision made harder by all my travelling buddies bar Dave doing it. But we got an amazing deal - we got free accomodation in a lovely cottage with kitchen, dining area and living room. It was nice to have a sort of base. But that is where we left Rosie and the rest, they may join later, but the pull of Utila is strong, and lots of people end up staying for a while.
I have now had a call to go to the beach, we are now in El Salvador, but the next leg of our journey was amusingly intense and requires more time than I have to give at the moment. I can see you holding on to your seats, but it´s ok, I´ll be back.
7 Feb 2012
Long Overdue
Right, this is something I totally forgot to put in ages ago, but I feel it is one of the coolest things we have done so far, so I can´t miss it out. I´ll put the rest in a different posting.
On December 21st, 2011, one year exactly before the Mayan prophecy of an era of change, we went to Tikal, one of the most prominent Mayan sites. We had already visited Tikal the day before and were shown round by a brilliant guide. He had dropped in to the conversation that he was taking others the day after for an áfter hours showing.´Obviously, we were intrigued. We ended up agreeing a price and being told that he had a special surprise for us, and he would bring something along to make it a bit more fun. I know this all sounds fairly ominous, but ironically I have learned to trust out here. Well, perhaps trust my instincts, and no alarm bells rang at all.
We arrived the next day bearing some nibbles and a bottle of rum. There were 7 of us, all prepared to climb the temple to watch the sunset. First of all, no one is allowed to be in the park after sunset, second of all, no one is allowed to climb the temple. This is due to some stupid American falling down and killing herself. Same goes for Chitchen Itza - stupid American ruining it (no pun intended) for everyone. But if you pay enough, you can do just about anything. The surprise was going down a tunnel which (apparently) only 5 people a year enter. It was beautiful - the reds were still vibrant and the faces of the images were still clear. We had to crouch down with our torches to get through the tunnel among tarantulas, scorpion spiders and rats. Good fun!
We then began the ascent of the temple. Precarious to say the least as the stairs are falling away in most places, but I had a feeling that after a couple of rums at the top the decent would be more challenging, albeit less worrying with the warmth of rum in my stomach. We got to the top and the guide pulled out a large bud of cannabis to share with the group. So, when in Rome, and admittedly the scenery around me glittered with life, which was spectacular as it needed no enhancement to be enchanting. We say two toucans fly across the sunset, and watched the sun set over the vast jungle - not a power line in sight.
We made our way down in the dark and some of us on our bums and made our way toward a Mayan ceremony. At this point I became uncomfortable because the locals were obviously not happy about us being there. We were told, when approached too close, that the music was finished in a fairly brash tone. We walked away and the music started up again. Unfortunately we were not the only tourists there and not all were as sensitive to the feelings of the Mayans. It was an impressive ceremony to watch, even from afar. I have never seen the sky look like that. I now understand why the Mayans were so obsessed with the sky and the stars. I could not pull my eyes away from the clarity, the mind-boggling infinity, the black and sparkling sheet above me. Every detail was visible, every star. To this day I don´t think I have seen or will ever see anything that moved me as much as that did. I had permanent goosebumps. To top it off, the shadow of a fire danced upon a looming temple set against the backdrop of that sublime sky. An image forever etched on my brain.
So, I know that everyone that was there that night with our guide will be thinking the same thing at the same time next year - how lucky we were to experience Tikal at such a momentous time. I only wish everyone could see the sky like that at one point in their lives.
On December 21st, 2011, one year exactly before the Mayan prophecy of an era of change, we went to Tikal, one of the most prominent Mayan sites. We had already visited Tikal the day before and were shown round by a brilliant guide. He had dropped in to the conversation that he was taking others the day after for an áfter hours showing.´Obviously, we were intrigued. We ended up agreeing a price and being told that he had a special surprise for us, and he would bring something along to make it a bit more fun. I know this all sounds fairly ominous, but ironically I have learned to trust out here. Well, perhaps trust my instincts, and no alarm bells rang at all.
We arrived the next day bearing some nibbles and a bottle of rum. There were 7 of us, all prepared to climb the temple to watch the sunset. First of all, no one is allowed to be in the park after sunset, second of all, no one is allowed to climb the temple. This is due to some stupid American falling down and killing herself. Same goes for Chitchen Itza - stupid American ruining it (no pun intended) for everyone. But if you pay enough, you can do just about anything. The surprise was going down a tunnel which (apparently) only 5 people a year enter. It was beautiful - the reds were still vibrant and the faces of the images were still clear. We had to crouch down with our torches to get through the tunnel among tarantulas, scorpion spiders and rats. Good fun!
We then began the ascent of the temple. Precarious to say the least as the stairs are falling away in most places, but I had a feeling that after a couple of rums at the top the decent would be more challenging, albeit less worrying with the warmth of rum in my stomach. We got to the top and the guide pulled out a large bud of cannabis to share with the group. So, when in Rome, and admittedly the scenery around me glittered with life, which was spectacular as it needed no enhancement to be enchanting. We say two toucans fly across the sunset, and watched the sun set over the vast jungle - not a power line in sight.
We made our way down in the dark and some of us on our bums and made our way toward a Mayan ceremony. At this point I became uncomfortable because the locals were obviously not happy about us being there. We were told, when approached too close, that the music was finished in a fairly brash tone. We walked away and the music started up again. Unfortunately we were not the only tourists there and not all were as sensitive to the feelings of the Mayans. It was an impressive ceremony to watch, even from afar. I have never seen the sky look like that. I now understand why the Mayans were so obsessed with the sky and the stars. I could not pull my eyes away from the clarity, the mind-boggling infinity, the black and sparkling sheet above me. Every detail was visible, every star. To this day I don´t think I have seen or will ever see anything that moved me as much as that did. I had permanent goosebumps. To top it off, the shadow of a fire danced upon a looming temple set against the backdrop of that sublime sky. An image forever etched on my brain.
So, I know that everyone that was there that night with our guide will be thinking the same thing at the same time next year - how lucky we were to experience Tikal at such a momentous time. I only wish everyone could see the sky like that at one point in their lives.
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