It's been months since my last update. I just wasn't feeling like sitting and writing about everything. But, that funk is over, yay! I'm going to cover a lot of time in the following, so I believe it's better for me to just let the memories flow and the stories tell themselves. I'll do my best to cover the scenery and descriptions of the feelings.
We pick up way back in Guatemala. Pamela and I left Guatemala City on an all-day bus ride to Flores. A quaint and tiny city sitting on a lake. It rested on a piece of land like a peninsula spurting out into the lake. There was one main road facing the lake with a few restaurants and bars. The rest of the city was about 6 blocks wide by 4 or 5 blocks deep. Remember, this was still during the Latin Easter "Semana Santa" so we were treated to a few passings of the huge floats carried by the people. We checked into a room with A/C -- a huge plus and explored the neighborhood. The next day we took the bus up to Tikal; about a 90 minute journey. During the ride we met this father-son duo who had apparently been traveling for the kids' entire life. The kid had been home-schooled but knew more than 3 languages already at the age of about 10. The exciting part of this ride was that day I had a weak bladder and was peeing every 10 minutes. Try to imagine my discomfort on a 90 minute ride when my bladder is screaming at me. The driver was not going to stop for me even though I said it was an emergencia. The father had emptied his extra large water bottle and offered it up for my relief. It was glorious, yet not one of my best moments. Gotta do what you gotta do sometimes.
Perhaps not the best opening story....
Anyway, we arrive in Tikal and acquire a guide to show us around the park. We learn that the Queen of Spain had been funding the restoration and unearthing of the city for, pretty much ever. I can't even begin to explain to you what Tikal was like. I remember sitting in the middle of the square with two massive monuments on each side, a religious/game/offering area on another and the palace of the royals on another and thinking "Wow. I'm in a place that thousands of years ago lived a civilization which I cannot even fathom what their lives or their world seemed like". The monuments towered over the jungle's treetops and just as quickly disappeared in the thickness. Some of the monuments you could climb and explore inside viewing bedrooms, kitchens, congregation halls and dining areas. Climbing up the monuments and reaching the top created a view of the city that was amazing. Akin to climbing the tallest building in a city and marveling at the peacefulness, beauty and architecture from a birds eye view. Only Tikal was a city built before a time I can barely imagine. Incredible what they did and how they lived.
Upon our exit after a day of sweating so much we lost 15 pounds, howler monkey's started up. If you've never heard a howler monkey, imagine the character from the movie Star Wars - Chewbacca (the wookie). His voice was a weird rumble mixed with a gargling sound. Howler monkeys sound like that, only scarier and about 50 times louder. You can hear their howl more than 2 miles away. We didn't see them, but I was okay with that as they sounded like that to mark their territory. Point taken.
The next day we had decided to take a couple of days and go to Belize. The bus ride was supposed to take about 4 hours. As fate would have it, the day we go is the same day Belize was having their annual Semana Santa bike race. So, we were stuck crawling at about 20mph for the last 3 hours of our 4 hour turned 6.5 hour trip behind the bike race because you weren't allowed to pass. Our trip quickly turned into making funny faces and waving at the same people in other cars for comedy. Finally we get to Belize City and book our ferry to the island. The islands were called the Cayes (pronounced 'keys'). We stayed on the island Caye Caulker. A small island which could be walked end-to-end in about 30 minutes lengthwise and about 5 minutes width-wise. A place where time slowed to a crawl, reggae was the only music which existed and the food was Jamaican/caribbean. My personal opinion about the place was that it was dirty, the people didn't care about the trash or time, and it seemed way too touristy for my tastes. The few things I liked about it were the music jams held out in the street using only drums and the slapping of hands to skin, and the amazing food we found. The bars and restaurants were all on the water so a nice breeze always kept us cool and some of them were really nicely decorated. Not all of the people were annoying and immature, but when you saw some acting as such, it immediately killed all of the good you had seen so far. Being in Belize made me start writing up a business plan for a nonprofit organization that would seek to educate the people on the ideas of green living. Seeing an entire block on an island that small being used as a trash dump was just too depressing and annoying.
We thought about going to see and explore the famous "Big Blue Hole", but upon some further research and talking to people, apparently, it's just a big blue hole and you can't really see anything. The excitement comes from the aerial photos.
Back in Flores after the long ferry and bus rides, we were so hungry that we missed our overnight bus furiously indulging in some excellent pasta. So, one more night in Flores and a super-early rise the next day for the 8 hour ride back to Guate-City. We decided that we were going to go straight to Antigua that same day and if I remember correctly, we arrived in time for a late dinner which we had right in the Centro Parque. The next day we took a bus to Panajachel (pronounced Pana-ha-shell). The bus ride was crazy. Up the mountain, down the mountain, up the mountain, down the mountain on ever-winding roads with edges dropping deep into ravines. We all got a little carsick as the bus driver enjoyed going as fast as that van could around u-turns and suicide turns, racing down hills and crawling up slopes. About 90 minutes later we arrived in Pana. I have a memory of Pana as being the most colorful city on my trip thus far. Reds, yellows, greens, pinks and blues were the building colors and murals on the walls. The entire city was pretty much an artisan shop. Every shop, alleyway and corner was filled with someone peddling trinkets, clothing, hats, and everything else. Our goal was to see Lake Atitlan and explore the city of San Antonio. I messed up and agreed to a private boat ride to the city at nearly triple what it would've costed us on the public boat. However, we could not find the public boat and due to our time limit, just took the private one. We took the public boat back much to the dismay of our private boat driver - I only agreed to paying half at a time :)
San Antonio was neatio. After the first block of peddlers, we explored the food market full of every piece of chicken it has and even some we weren't sure about. The vegetables and fruits were fresh and the licuados (smoothies) were dreamy. The markets aren't like the sanitary, sterile environments I'm used to back home. The smell immediately smacks you in the face like decay or rotten something. The truth is it's probably just the open containers of fish, chicken, and other animal parts for sale. Nevertheless, I can't imagine going there hungry and buying way more than I came there for, like I would in a market at home.
The guy who sold us the licuados was trying to buy my hat much to our amusement. The furry, yellow and black striped hat in my profile picture. He said something about having a date that night and wanting to look good. His licuados were soooo refreshing and awesome, I had two.
Back to Antigua and Pamela's last night. The next morning she left and I moved to a hostel called El Hostal for a few days. A neat little place with live-in Parrots and a nice little courtyard. It was right across the street from my favorite bar in Antigua: Cafe No Se (meaning literally: Cafe I Don't Know). A hole-in-wall type place with dark lighting and friendly people. That place had its own blends of what is known as Mezcal or Mescal Illegal. (sidenote: I just recently saw an article in a Maxim magazine about the stuff being imported into various countries now, so check it out if you find it in your local liquor store. Instructions- Take 2 shots and watch the chest hair grow [even if you're a female]) One night, they ushered everybody through this little porthole and into a secret backroom after closing time. This girl had set up her cello and another girl had an acoustic guitar and they started jamming out some really inspiring music. One of those cool nights where you find a surprise treat in an unlikely spot.
Antigua is known worldwide for its cobblestone streets, immaculate architecture and the beautifully designed restaurants, hotels, bars and shops. One day, I went on a tour with a guy I met at the hostel lead by a "famous" woman who had written books about Antigua covering its history and everything else you may want to know - Elizabeth Bell. She took us on a walking tour of some ruins of churches and other buildings. Other members of the group were asking economical and political questions so it seemed as if she talked more about that aspect of things when describing the places we saw. The best part of the tour for me was the last thing we did. A stop off at Casa Santa Domingo & Santa Clara. This was the second coolest thing I'd seen in Guatemala, after Tikal. It's a boutique hotel built around actual ruins. It's part insanely expensive hotel with immaculate everything, part world-class museum. For instance, there was a fountain in one part which was an actual ruin partly restored and around the fountain was some painted stone flooring. Where the stone was incomplete or completely destroyed, the hotel had finished it with new stone tiling of exactly the same style. They had a cathedral which looked like something you see in movies and the museum showcased burial sites, war-time artifacts and many different pieces of ancient art. You could explore through everything and even underneath it. A playground which I had trouble leaving because of the craziness of how cool that place was.
I left Antigua and went back to Lake Atitlan. I had heard about a hostel called La Iguana Perdida (translation: The Lost Iguana). Another psychotic bus ride to Panajachel and another boat ride (public this time) to Santa Cruz where La Iguana Perdida (hereafter "LI") rested on the side of the lake. Aldous Huxley (author Brave New World) is quoted as saying Lake Atitlan is "the most beautiful lake in the world". It's easy to agree with that. LI was situated about 25 feet above the water level of the lake but literally on the water itself with only a small path between it's property and the boat docks. I arrived in the late evening as sun was setting, so I barely had time before dinner to unpack and missed the view of my surroundings. LI is a family-style hostel which means that dinner time is served as a whole to the guests. We all sit down together and feast on freshly made bread, soup, entree and dessert prepared by the "chicas". The "chicas" were local Guatemala women who worked at the hostel and loved to joke around with the guests. Many times did that funky furry hat of mine go missing only to see one of the chicas wearing it as she changed the sheets.
While at LI, I met and befriended two guys - Jacob (whom I actually met and chatted with on the bus ride from Antigua) and Derek, who was currently working at LI. We played a lot of pool, went kayaking, joked around and enjoyed each other's company during my stay there. I even took a week of Spanish classes which definitely helped a lot.
Some random memories I have of this time were making the dj mix JET which was requested by my friend Joel awhile ago, who as an artist goes by the name JET III. The inspiration and setting for this mix was different than anything I've ever done. The first morning after my arrival, I woke up, cleaned up and started walking down to the main building where coffee and breakfast was served. When I came down the path and into the open chill area I looked up, stopped dead in my footsteps and said out loud "Whoa". I was looking out across the most beautiful lake I've ever seen at two massive volcanoes on the other side with random fluffy white clouds wisping across the sky. I was breath-taken, literally. I made that JET mix for Joel while sitting in a comfy beach-style chair looking out at that scenery. So cool. I really think the first 40 minutes of that mix do what I was feeling justice. The rest of it kind of falls apart because I got carried away in the music and forgot the motivational factors. But, if you can imagine that scenery and setting while listening to it, then I believe you'll hear what I was trying to portray.
Anyhoo, moving on...
Friday nights at LI were "party" nights. I had offered to DJ and was really happy to do so when the night came. (whee!) They brought out the costumes and everybody got dressed up and face painted. My current profile picture was taken right after my painting was finished that night. A fun night of debauchery and good times was had.
A couple of days after that Jacob, Derek and I decided to travel together and we left for El Salvador. But first, we pit-stopped at San Pedro, another city on the lake. This city was much more active and very, very hippy friendly. You could buy space cakes and cookies (imagine what those are), the bars were playing sports and drum & bass music, one night we found a hostel having a rave with dj's playing psytrance (mostly Israeli-made music with a fast tempo and face-melting synthesized rhythms). We found a restaurant on the main drag called Hummus-Ya run by a Greek woman and we ate there twice because it was so good. It was also the first and subsequently last time I've had hummus on my trip. Where is all the freakin' hummus in Central America?
2 crazy days in San Pedro and then we were off.
Next Chapter: El Salvador
The El Salvador-Guatemala border crossing was by far the easiest and weirdest. They never stamped our passports. Just looked at them, gave us a receipt, a sliver of paper with the signs of the swine flu and one of those hospital masks. They were also randomly checking people with a thermometer. In the end, no stamp for El Salvador in my passport. :-(
We had decided upon checking out El Roble Hostal (translation The Ruby Hostel -- the spanish spelling of 'hostel' is with an "a"). El Roble is located in Playa San Diego.
Playa San Diego was off the beaten path with unpaved roads, no restaurants or stores of any kind, and the only place to get groceries were windows of houses where you went up and saw what they had hoping it was what you wanted. Playa San Diego was on the far side of La Libertad which you entered like a deadend (like the letter T) coming from San Salvador (capital of El Salvador and where our bus dropped us off to be picked up by the van to the hostel). Libertad was the city which split up the playa's on either side of it. El Roble was another family-style hostel. We arrived after dark and quickly checked in and showered. The hostel had a swimming pool and a small bar. There was another couple from Australia and a German girl, named Alexandra there already to join us three and another guy who was traveling alone. That was all the people besides the owner and his wife at the hostel that night. We ended up playing drinking games consisting of Giant Jenga and Ring of Fire. Comedy and good times were shared. (See the pics in my El Salvador photo album)
After a couple of nights at El Roble, we next went to the other side of La Libertad to Playa El Tunco. This time we were joined by Alexandra and now our group was four. We were out of luck finding a cheap hostel with four available beds. Heck, we were out of luck to find a single bed in one of the hostels. Luckily, a lady on the street picked us and showed us a brand new hotel. It was still being built, but the rooms and kitchen had been finished. Good enough for us!
My only memories from El Tunco were the black sand beaches, seeing the city which was 2 internet cafes, a restaurant, a bar and a window store, cooking great meals with everyone since there was no place to eat and watching movies at night since there was nothing else to do. Lots of time hanging out with Alexandra while Derek spent the day on the internet and Jacob read.
We left El Tunco after 2 (or 3?) nights and Alexandra took us all to Juayua (pronounced why-you-ah) by chicken bus. My first experience on a chicken bus. Don't know what I mean by 'chicken-bus'?? Take a regular old school bus -- you know, the big cheese. That big yellow thing you rode to school (well, most of you reading this). Inject said school bus with subwoofers and loud car-stereo speakers, put on latin reggae, 80s one-hit wonders, salsa or 90s bubblegum dance music (preferably a blend of all), paint the bus with every color you can think of, apply stickers or airbrush on images of cartoon characters and famous musicians, remove the muffler and any sort of environmental control part, and finally, most importantly, make sure that horn works. Now, that's just the bus. Let me describe what it's like to be on the bus (or in the bus terminal). Men, children and woman selling mangos with spicy green powder and hot sauce, plastic baggies of water or sugar juice, cookies, crackers, candies you've never heard of and all the meanwhile repeating what they have over and over again exactly the same way (mangos. agua. pina. mangos...) Then you have the bus drivers who for some reason are always very quiet, but the money-takers are yelling out to the world the next destination and rounding up people (even trying to convince them) to get on the bus. (I ended up hearing JUAYUA - JUAYUA-JUAYUA-JUAYUA - JUUUUAAAYYYYYUUUUAAAAAAAAA in my dreams that night). This is supposed to sound silly and comical because that's what the experience of my first time on a chicken bus was like.
We ended up having to take 3-4 different buses that day to finally get to our destination of Juayua. Juayua was a very cute little town. The streets were paved and every corner of every road and some in between had another empanada restaurant or cart. Again, we arrived after dark and found our hostel. Another cute little place with a nice courtyard respectable dorms. After getting a bit settled in, we all ventured out for some food. Well, being in El Salvador, the birthplace and living home of the famous empanada, there was no other option. ....I mean, seriously, there was not a single other option. Apparently, everything except 2 or 3 empanada places closes around 8pm. Not only that, but there is not one single bar in the whole city. Definitely a first on my list. Alexandra and I finally found a place that was willing to sell us a $2 bottle of wine. So, in fitting with our el cheapo vino, we promptly sat on the curb and drank from the bottle.
The next day we heard about a path you could take to these waterfalls. We walked out of the paved streets onto the dirt road, then through the gate and onto a 2 foot wide path alongside the mountain. One side was the mountain, one side was a very painful death. Beautiful, of course though. The waterfalls were cool. These few kids showed us how to climb up and jump off of them which was neat. I eventually gathered up my courage and followed one of the kids up and then watched him do a perfect flip into the water. Showoff. I get up there am literally shaking like a dry leaf. It takes all my might and will to throw myself off that ledge into the pool below. Woohoo, I did it! Only, instead of doing it correctly. I had thrown myself by Will alone and my body had reluctantly followed causing a landing in the water which took all the breath from my lungs and created a small collapsing of said organs. Lesson learned that day: don't do that again.
I can't remember if it was the same day or the next. But my other memory of Juayua was that one day we went to the local market where they were selling veggies, fruits, fried frogs (which I tried for the first time -- oily, tastes like chicken), amongst other wares like clothes and electronics. I ended up making a wonderful stew out of those ingredients along with some mystery meat we found. Turned out very well in the end and we had a family-style dinner at a non-family-style hostel.
Alexandra and I were ready to move on to another city in El Salvador, but Jacob and Derek decided to stay. So the two of us traveled to Suchitoto. I loved Suchitoto. We found an excellent hotel which sat way up where the city was overlooking a valley with a river splitting it. (Pictures of the view in the El Salvador album also) Suchitoto was a sleepy, very relaxing little town. Alex and I stayed a couple of days to relax and get some things done. I recorded some music while she took care of some Visa issues. More empanadas, home-cooking and lots of chilling in this city.
We then traveled back to San Salvador where we stayed at what I thought was the worst hostel ever. It is definitely my least favorite so far. I can't remember the name of it and don't even wish to waste my time searching for it online. Just remember to never go there, OK? We were put in this room with no windows or ventilation of any kind. Thank goodness we were only there for one night because I ended up getting sick in that room. The bathrooms didn't lock and I was walked in on 3 times because of that brilliance. I was more than happy to leave the next day, get on a bus and get into Honduras. Alexandra and I split up here as I was going into Honduras and she had other plans in Guatemala. Our schedules allowed for us to meet up again in La Ceiba, Honduras for their version of Carnivale.
Next Chapter: Honduras
I arrived in La Ceiba, Honduras the next day feeling like total crap. All I wanted was to find a room with a bathroom so I could get myself better. The only thing available to me was a private room which had a ceiling fan. That fan became the bane of my existence very quickly. It was not the type of ceiling fan that is normally called a ceiling fan, but a regular house fan that you'd setup in a corner. But, because it's meant for the ceiling it doesn't pan side-to-side, it rotates as if it were on a ball around and round. Moreover, La Ceiba was having its hottest part of the year during those 2 days I spent trying to get well in that room. When the fan moved away from directly on me, it was about 120 degrees in there. I was feeling so bad and needed to be close to a bathroom that I couldn't really go out for too long, either. Nonetheless, I ended up feeling better after the second night and moved to a new place to stay. The Jungle River Hostel was the highlight of my stay in Honduras and my second favorite hostel so far on my trip. The hostel was about an hour away from La Ceiba and up in the jungles of Honduras. The road turned to rocks and lake-size potholes very soon after leaving the main city and we trekked slowly up through the jungle to the hostel. The hostel sat directly on a river, Rio Cangrejal (the 'J' in spanish words is pronounced as if you were exhaling or saying 'hey'. However, if you say the letter in spanish, it's pronounced 'holta'. You probably learned something new right there, yay!). The main dining area and bar overlooked a shallow pool carved out of the rock and the rushing water of the river. There were constantly people in and out of the hostel because its sister (or brother) hostel was back in La Ceiba -- called The Banana Republic Guesthouse. Through the BRG, you could arrange rafting trips or Canopy/zipline tours and most people did that only coming up to JRL for the day. I became pretty good friends with the locals working there since I ended up staying something around 10 days. The owner was also a very cool guy, albeit a bit of an alcoholic and creepy dude to the ladies. One thing that was interesting about Honduras was that they absolutely loved minimal techno there. They would play it late night at the bar and then let me play or dj some music for a bit too. It was very cool to listen to that type of music in that kind of environment. Dark, minimal techno in the Honduran jungles!
My memories of being there include walking up to this other hostel one day because it was the only place which had internet. While doing so, we encountered a mass awakening of termites. Apparently, twice a year in the Honduran jungle, termites wake up or come out of the cocoon or something and they have wings. There were trillions of these things fluttering around. It was like driving in a snowstorm where you're moving and these things were coming straight at you. We had to duck and swerve out of the way of them. The frogs and geckos were having their own little feasts that night though... that was cool to watch. Frogs' tongues are lightning quick!
After a few days there, Alexandra arrived and we took one of the rafting trips down the Cangrejal. I think the rapids were 3 and 4 levels. We didn't just raft though. Hiked a bit over the rocky terrain, slid down rocks into the river, jumped off the rocks, went down rapids without the boat and then we finally got in the boat and rafted a bit. A good day, all in all.
We only stayed at JRL for a night because Carnivale was having its height of celebrations the next two nights back down in the city, La Ceiba. So, we left and found a cheap little hotel to stay in near where the parades would be happening. Carnivale was good and bad for us. The daytime was fantastic. Parades with beautiful outfits, people throwing beads, street vendors selling crazy foods and drinks, happy children and lots of merriment. The nighttime was the bad. People were drunk and disorderly, the crowds multiplied by 10 causing people-jams with pushing, fighting and overall stupidity. A few of the stages played decent live music, but others were packed with teenage girls-gone-wild dancing booty-style. I thought it a bit odd that the only dancing I saw (and what I believe anybody actually knew) was how to shake their bodies like being have waves of electric current and grinding up on one another. Classy, really. Ultimately, Carnivale was a disappointment for me. The next day, Alexandra and I split up again while she went back up North and I moved into the capital of Honduras: Tegulcigalpa.
I spent a couple of days in Tegulcigalpa exploring some of the museums and buildings I found in the Lonely Planet guide. I stayed for two nights and left for Nicaragua. When I got to the bus station, the news was covering a breaking story about an earthquake which had occurred in Honduras just a little bit off the coast of the Bay Islands. It registered something like a 6 or 7 on the Richter scale, but my room showed no signs and I felt nothing. The traveling continued...
Coming up in the next edition of my travel blog: Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Travel Blog - Part tres
Phew! I'm only a month behind on my blog... that's not too bad, is it? Where was I? Curt, the bus ride.. yes, the bus ride. All 9 of us: Adrian, Nicholas, Tom, Damian, Franco, Sarah, Chantal, myself and the Israeli pimp whose name I forget. We had decided to eat dinner about an hour before the bus left. Dinner was good and pictures can be found somewhere here on facebook. At dinner we were joined by the soon to be infamous Curt, and Tina & Cecilie from Norway. Two nice girls who were just about absent from my life outside of the occasional smile and/or greeting and one evening conversation. Anyway, we finish eating some pasta (I had a salad first, of course) and make our way back to the hostel to grab our gear before hailing a cab to the bus depot. When we returned, the Israeli was half-panicked waiting for us because at this point, we had about 20 minutes to get to the bus station on time. Apparently, he had just crawled off the beach himself and peeled himself away from some local chica whom he was enjoying quiet time with. Luckily, we arrived with about 5 minutes to spare and board the bus with ease.
During the ride, Tom and I watched a horrible made-for-teenagers movie called "Twilight" on my computer. About halfway through our overnight journey and through this movie, we all hear this loud CRUNCH and then GRUMBLE, GrUmBle, grumble, gruuumble. The bus driver pulls over and we all begin to speculate we hit an animal or something big and crunchy. It turns out to be no big problem, but this is a vital point of our Escondido excursion because the man of all men, goliath of all things natural and supernatural and fixer of anything material or immaterial... Curt, begins his reign as our inside joke. (We are all going to hell with bells on for this one, but it was just too funny, and so, totally worth it.) "If Curt was here, he'd fix this", "Curt could make the sun shine right now!", "Where's Curt when you need him, he'd have this bus back on the road with wings on in no time at all". See, to us, Curt was like a god. He was creator and destroyer of our worlds and he knew it. The reasons for this are difficult to explain because he's just someone you have to meet to fully grasp the entire douchery. Imagine a guy who will gladly put women on pedestals, place the crown on his own head and then proceed to treat any living thing that doesn't have protruding breasts as if they are non-existant peons. On multiple occasions and to all of us guys -- he would do something to interrupt a conversation we were having with a lady friend or do and say things to make himself seem cooler than the other person. I'm talking some serious middle school-type stuff, like a situation where you do something good to make someone look bad and you look back at the other person with your lollipop reward and stick your tongue out. Now, with that mental image of a scene, take a twenty-something man who said he was from 3 or 4 different places, doing forty different things at once and traveling as if he were a prince to all women and cane-beater of all men. Striking poses shirtless, being abrasive and rude to the guys in the room but in a funny-look-at-me-ladies-see-how-cute-i-can-be kind of way and having no sense of the spacetime continuum as he'd show up in 3 different conversations at once. I hope you get the picture by now.
We arrived in Puerto Escondido about 630am and hopped a cab down to the hostel our awesome bartender had told us about, Sofia -- a mischievous queen in her own right. The hostel was alright, the rooms were clean and had bathrooms. We spent most of our time wandering around, even taking a boat ride which was supposed to be a fishing trip. We didn't catch any fish, but we did catch a sea turtle. I kept jumping off the boat to go swimming and when we caught that one, in the water again I went. The captain finally freed the turtle from our fishing line and told me to grab its shell at both ends where the head and tail were. So, I did and he let the turtle go. That little guy (or gal) took off straight south deep into the ocean, its flippers (or fins?) flailing away and scraping the crap out of my arms and legs. While a cool experience to say that I swam with the turtles in the Pacific Ocean in Mexico, I had hoped the story would be a lot more interesting and with fewer injuries. The first couple of days in PE, I was in a bit of a funk to be honest. I wasn't feeling 100 percent and my body was letting me know. That's why the pictures of me there, especially during the boat trip, always seem to show me with a look on my face like I just smelled something funny. A couple of more very interesting nights with these guys and sadly, they were off. Adrian and Nicholas had to head north to catch a flight home. Tom was heading East with the Israeli to San Cristobal. Chantal and Sarah were heading back to Germany. Damian and Franco were heading home soon back to Argentina.
One last anecdote before I have to free these guys from my blog... Tom had brought along a guitar. After we made dinner one night for everyone, Tom pulled out the guitar after a few drinks and starting singing well known rock songs... with the lyrics changed to coincide with the much awesomeness of this Curt character. Sublime, The Eagles, Bon Jovi, Prince, The Pixies, and other classics were creatively albeit mercilessly transformed into odes to Curt. Again, it's hard to explain the magic of this joke, but we had a muse and it wasn't getting old. Funny times.
Once everyone left, I fell into the beach with the mission to get tan. I found a nice little spot with super cheap drinks, good food, beach chairs and umbrellas near the water and just succumbed to my book and the short naps. I did this for about 3 days, heh. Puerto Escondido is a beautiful place. The town showed no signs of commercialism outside of local necessity. The grocery store was a warehouse-type with everything you could possibly need. The beachtown where we stayed, Playa Zicatela, had literally just finished their first road about two months prior to our arrival. (This is a good picture of Playa Zicatela looking away from the point up into the town. "SuperCHE" was the grocery store -- the big white building just left of center in town. Wipeout is right of center up in the town and it overlooked the beach from way above sea level. "http://www.puertoescondidoinfo.com/images/zicatelabeach2.jpg ") This place was by far the nicest and most relaxing I have ever been to.
I had moved into a new hostel once Tom left and then again into an even cheaper place for my last two nights. During my stay on the beach, I met a cool girl whom I discovered was there working, but was originally from Chicago, into house music, djing and even had a friend who threw a party at this spot called Wipeout. It was nice to be able to talk shop with someone for awhile. On my last night, I met some more people who were hanging out in the hostel. We went for dinner and drinks and then up into town to check out this Wipeout place as we had gotten a flyer for a party there. I was with some people from the hostel and it turned out the girl-from-Chicago's friend was there AND he had some empty dj time coming up soon, so I was going to get the chance to play. It turned out to be a decent set played to the sunset and moon rising. Afterwords, we went to this other place down at the end of Zicatela to finish off the night. Escondido was definitely a fantastic beach for surfing and being lazy :)
The next evening at 530pm, I boarded my bus to Guatemala City through Tapachula and across the Mexico-Guatemala border. When the bus arrived at the border, we were all ushered off quickly and left to walk across the bridge to the Immigration Station. Immediately, I was accosted by two younger looking teenagers telling me that I needed to give them $100 right now to cross the border into Guatemala as a fee; and to HURRY HURRY as the bus was leaving!!!! I kept walking. They showed me their uniforms and Immigration badges. Still, arguing in my broken spanish, I kept walking. They even lowered the price to $50 to be nice and grabbed my passport out of my hands as I was getting into line. Oops. I started making a scene and loudly asking for "Mi pasaporte por favor". They again lowered the price to 40 Quetzales (pronounced ket-zah-less) and then again to 30. Finally, they left me alone when a nice guy from Honduras stepped in and told them to basically F*** off. Other people weren't so lucky... this one guy who I ended up hanging with in Guate-City gave them $40 and we heard horror stories of people being robbed and all other kinds of craziness.
For future reference: one dollar American is equal to about eight Quetzales.
Arriving in Guatemala City, I immediately start looking around for another traveler and I found this guy from Holland whose name escapes me at the moment. We decide to head to this hotel I had heard of, the Hotel Fenix, not too far away from the downtown historic district. It was a decent place -- clean, nice rooms (with not a single power plug?), courteous staff, but it was very noisy with all the street traffic. However, they made some amazing chicken sandwiches next door in the cafe'.
This timeframe in Guatemala City coincided with a popular Spanish/Latin holiday called Semana Santa -- it's kind of like their version of Easter except without the chocolate, furry rabbit, and eggs. If the procession was heading down your street, you received the great honor of decorating the street with food and other biodegradable materials with elaborate designs full of color and detail. Flowers, scenes depicting religious stories, personal and cultural histories were all laid out on the street with such great effort that they made mind boggling displays only to be destroyed a few hours later by the procession. The procession entailed a male and female portion. The people would literally carry on their shoulders massive wooden 'floats' depicting Jesus' death, resurrection and other famous characters and stories from religious history. There would be the male-carried float with at least 20 men on either side carrying this down the streets on their shoulders, followed shortly after by the women doing the same. They would walk these through the city and around the squares. Where we were staying, near the historic district and square was where the processions always ended and major partying was had. The thing about Semana Santa in Latin cities is while, yes, it's beautiful and amazing, they shut down the city day and night. One night, the only place we found open to eat was a TGIFriday's. (ick.) The first night we were there, we decided to go out exploring, it was Sunday night and the first day for Semana Santa. The only place open was a tiny, second floor bar where a bunch of college kids had gathered to celebrate their cheerleading coach's birthday. A fun night indeed, especially when the girls insisted on teaching us gringos how to salsa and meringue. I spent four nights in Guatemala City with barely anything going on during the day, everything being closed and not much else to do but read and walk around exploring. Then, my friend Pamela arrived in Guate-City airport on Wednesday of this week.
More coming very soon :)
What's next? Flores, Tikal, a trip to Belize, Antigua and Lake Atitlan, meeting more travelers and embarking on yet another group adventure!
During the ride, Tom and I watched a horrible made-for-teenagers movie called "Twilight" on my computer. About halfway through our overnight journey and through this movie, we all hear this loud CRUNCH and then GRUMBLE, GrUmBle, grumble, gruuumble. The bus driver pulls over and we all begin to speculate we hit an animal or something big and crunchy. It turns out to be no big problem, but this is a vital point of our Escondido excursion because the man of all men, goliath of all things natural and supernatural and fixer of anything material or immaterial... Curt, begins his reign as our inside joke. (We are all going to hell with bells on for this one, but it was just too funny, and so, totally worth it.) "If Curt was here, he'd fix this", "Curt could make the sun shine right now!", "Where's Curt when you need him, he'd have this bus back on the road with wings on in no time at all". See, to us, Curt was like a god. He was creator and destroyer of our worlds and he knew it. The reasons for this are difficult to explain because he's just someone you have to meet to fully grasp the entire douchery. Imagine a guy who will gladly put women on pedestals, place the crown on his own head and then proceed to treat any living thing that doesn't have protruding breasts as if they are non-existant peons. On multiple occasions and to all of us guys -- he would do something to interrupt a conversation we were having with a lady friend or do and say things to make himself seem cooler than the other person. I'm talking some serious middle school-type stuff, like a situation where you do something good to make someone look bad and you look back at the other person with your lollipop reward and stick your tongue out. Now, with that mental image of a scene, take a twenty-something man who said he was from 3 or 4 different places, doing forty different things at once and traveling as if he were a prince to all women and cane-beater of all men. Striking poses shirtless, being abrasive and rude to the guys in the room but in a funny-look-at-me-ladies-se
We arrived in Puerto Escondido about 630am and hopped a cab down to the hostel our awesome bartender had told us about, Sofia -- a mischievous queen in her own right. The hostel was alright, the rooms were clean and had bathrooms. We spent most of our time wandering around, even taking a boat ride which was supposed to be a fishing trip. We didn't catch any fish, but we did catch a sea turtle. I kept jumping off the boat to go swimming and when we caught that one, in the water again I went. The captain finally freed the turtle from our fishing line and told me to grab its shell at both ends where the head and tail were. So, I did and he let the turtle go. That little guy (or gal) took off straight south deep into the ocean, its flippers (or fins?) flailing away and scraping the crap out of my arms and legs. While a cool experience to say that I swam with the turtles in the Pacific Ocean in Mexico, I had hoped the story would be a lot more interesting and with fewer injuries. The first couple of days in PE, I was in a bit of a funk to be honest. I wasn't feeling 100 percent and my body was letting me know. That's why the pictures of me there, especially during the boat trip, always seem to show me with a look on my face like I just smelled something funny. A couple of more very interesting nights with these guys and sadly, they were off. Adrian and Nicholas had to head north to catch a flight home. Tom was heading East with the Israeli to San Cristobal. Chantal and Sarah were heading back to Germany. Damian and Franco were heading home soon back to Argentina.
One last anecdote before I have to free these guys from my blog... Tom had brought along a guitar. After we made dinner one night for everyone, Tom pulled out the guitar after a few drinks and starting singing well known rock songs... with the lyrics changed to coincide with the much awesomeness of this Curt character. Sublime, The Eagles, Bon Jovi, Prince, The Pixies, and other classics were creatively albeit mercilessly transformed into odes to Curt. Again, it's hard to explain the magic of this joke, but we had a muse and it wasn't getting old. Funny times.
Once everyone left, I fell into the beach with the mission to get tan. I found a nice little spot with super cheap drinks, good food, beach chairs and umbrellas near the water and just succumbed to my book and the short naps. I did this for about 3 days, heh. Puerto Escondido is a beautiful place. The town showed no signs of commercialism outside of local necessity. The grocery store was a warehouse-type with everything you could possibly need. The beachtown where we stayed, Playa Zicatela, had literally just finished their first road about two months prior to our arrival. (This is a good picture of Playa Zicatela looking away from the point up into the town. "SuperCHE" was the grocery store -- the big white building just left of center in town. Wipeout is right of center up in the town and it overlooked the beach from way above sea level. "http://www.puertoescondido
I had moved into a new hostel once Tom left and then again into an even cheaper place for my last two nights. During my stay on the beach, I met a cool girl whom I discovered was there working, but was originally from Chicago, into house music, djing and even had a friend who threw a party at this spot called Wipeout. It was nice to be able to talk shop with someone for awhile. On my last night, I met some more people who were hanging out in the hostel. We went for dinner and drinks and then up into town to check out this Wipeout place as we had gotten a flyer for a party there. I was with some people from the hostel and it turned out the girl-from-Chicago's friend was there AND he had some empty dj time coming up soon, so I was going to get the chance to play. It turned out to be a decent set played to the sunset and moon rising. Afterwords, we went to this other place down at the end of Zicatela to finish off the night. Escondido was definitely a fantastic beach for surfing and being lazy :)
The next evening at 530pm, I boarded my bus to Guatemala City through Tapachula and across the Mexico-Guatemala border. When the bus arrived at the border, we were all ushered off quickly and left to walk across the bridge to the Immigration Station. Immediately, I was accosted by two younger looking teenagers telling me that I needed to give them $100 right now to cross the border into Guatemala as a fee; and to HURRY HURRY as the bus was leaving!!!! I kept walking. They showed me their uniforms and Immigration badges. Still, arguing in my broken spanish, I kept walking. They even lowered the price to $50 to be nice and grabbed my passport out of my hands as I was getting into line. Oops. I started making a scene and loudly asking for "Mi pasaporte por favor". They again lowered the price to 40 Quetzales (pronounced ket-zah-less) and then again to 30. Finally, they left me alone when a nice guy from Honduras stepped in and told them to basically F*** off. Other people weren't so lucky... this one guy who I ended up hanging with in Guate-City gave them $40 and we heard horror stories of people being robbed and all other kinds of craziness.
For future reference: one dollar American is equal to about eight Quetzales.
Arriving in Guatemala City, I immediately start looking around for another traveler and I found this guy from Holland whose name escapes me at the moment. We decide to head to this hotel I had heard of, the Hotel Fenix, not too far away from the downtown historic district. It was a decent place -- clean, nice rooms (with not a single power plug?), courteous staff, but it was very noisy with all the street traffic. However, they made some amazing chicken sandwiches next door in the cafe'.
This timeframe in Guatemala City coincided with a popular Spanish/Latin holiday called Semana Santa -- it's kind of like their version of Easter except without the chocolate, furry rabbit, and eggs. If the procession was heading down your street, you received the great honor of decorating the street with food and other biodegradable materials with elaborate designs full of color and detail. Flowers, scenes depicting religious stories, personal and cultural histories were all laid out on the street with such great effort that they made mind boggling displays only to be destroyed a few hours later by the procession. The procession entailed a male and female portion. The people would literally carry on their shoulders massive wooden 'floats' depicting Jesus' death, resurrection and other famous characters and stories from religious history. There would be the male-carried float with at least 20 men on either side carrying this down the streets on their shoulders, followed shortly after by the women doing the same. They would walk these through the city and around the squares. Where we were staying, near the historic district and square was where the processions always ended and major partying was had. The thing about Semana Santa in Latin cities is while, yes, it's beautiful and amazing, they shut down the city day and night. One night, the only place we found open to eat was a TGIFriday's. (ick.) The first night we were there, we decided to go out exploring, it was Sunday night and the first day for Semana Santa. The only place open was a tiny, second floor bar where a bunch of college kids had gathered to celebrate their cheerleading coach's birthday. A fun night indeed, especially when the girls insisted on teaching us gringos how to salsa and meringue. I spent four nights in Guatemala City with barely anything going on during the day, everything being closed and not much else to do but read and walk around exploring. Then, my friend Pamela arrived in Guate-City airport on Wednesday of this week.
More coming very soon :)
What's next? Flores, Tikal, a trip to Belize, Antigua and Lake Atitlan, meeting more travelers and embarking on yet another group adventure!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Travel Blog - Parte Dos
This blog picks up where the last one left off - my first day in Acapulco which was Wednesday, March 25th. I was there until the 31st when I boarded a 9 hour bus to Puerto Escondido. I was in P.E. until Saturday the 4th of April. I then went on a bus trip for 18 hours across the Guatemalan border and arrived in Guatemala City on Sunday the 5th of Abril. This part of the blog is about my experiences in Acapulco. I will catch up on Puerto Escondido and Guatemala City next time. Thanks for reading!
When I got to Acapulco airport, I paid for a shuttle to the area I was staying and was told to wait. About 20 minutes later, myself and three other people were put into a taxi and taken to our specific locations. Mine being the K3 Acapulco Youth Hostel in Playa Condesa (Condesa Beach). This was a central location to everything and the hostel was across the street from the stairs down to the beach. The rooms in this hostel were so small! There were 2 bunk beds that jutted out from the wall itself. The entire room was about 6 feet wide and about 8 feet long. Luckily, I had the room to myself for the most part. I immediately took a shower to get off the sweat and grime from my day of traveling. A bit tired I decided that before I ventured out into the evening for some food that I'd just relax a bit in the huge patio overlooking the street. The hostel was up three flights of stairs and opened up into a half block length patio covered on one end and partly covered on the other allowing for sitting in the sun if one desired. There was a bar serving sandwiches, super-cheap beers and manned by middle aged local ladies who ended up becoming great friends with us. But before I get into who "us" were, there's a story of the first night which needs to be continued.
After my shower, I was sitting on the patio observing the traffic and people watching when this woman looking to be about my age sat at the table next to me and started smoking a cigarette. I struck up a conversation with her wondering where she was from and what good places were around to eat. She introduced herself as Vivianna on vacation from Buenos Aires. Her english and my spanish were about even, so we had a bit of fun communicating. I remembered that I had bought a bottle of wine with Nils from the San Diego hostel when we thought to make dinner one night (but ended up never getting around to it) and had been carrying it with me this far. She agreed to share it with me and if I remember correctly, it was from Napa Valley and named "Fat Cat". The wine was a red of some sort with a description on the back which led you every which way but to actually discovering anything about the wine itself. Vivianna and I enjoyed a good conversation learning about each other and talking about our plans for the present and future. We finished the bottle and went out to find something to eat. She had recommended this place called "Tacos & Beer". I couldn't think of a more awesome name for a streetside restaurant overlooking the beach. The menu was simple. After eating, we went to this bar called "Paradise" which was huge for a bar in my opinion. This place was modeled to look exactly like a pirate ship, with all the decor. I was actually very impressed with how tactfully and not-cheesy the place was designed and decorated considered what theme they'd chosen. It was two main floors with a raised third patio area. We sat at the bar and had a few cheap beers before calling it a night.
The next day I spent walking up and down the beaches of Acapulco. Starting at Playa Condesa and wandering myself all the way through the variously named "Playa's". The thing about most of these beaches is that you get hassled literally non-stop by merchants. Every 2 minutes, someone wasn't accepting "No, Gracias!" for an answer and continuing to try to talk you into buying something. It was so annoying that it got to the point where I was dropping the courtesy of saying gracias and just replying with a resolute "No!" This one merchant approached me with some crappy looking silver bracelets and after my 'No, Gracias', he proceeded to grab his privates and said in english with a heavy spanish accent as if he were making fun of it: "ohh, you want this senor, you need this..." I just kept repeating my "No, Gracias" until he walked off. (yikes!) After about a half day of this, I decided that it was finally time to get in the Pacific Ocean. I found some gringos on the beach and asked if I could hang out and leave my stuff with theirs while I went for a quick swim. The water was a bit chilly at first but very easy to get used to. I didn't stay in very long and retreated back to my beach spot to lie down and dry off under the sun's warmth. About a half hour later, I pick myself up off the beach and gathered my belongings. Right when I was about to take off, something hit me really hard on my shoulder and I was shoved straight down onto the sand. I had my day bag with me over that shoulder and it was ripped off my arm by one of the four guys who took off running up the stairs and away from the beach. In that bag was my phone, a small amount of cash, my travel journal, sunglasses, and a few other things. The biggest losses were my brand new blackberry smartphone which was the best thing ever and my travel journal which I had just started using every day. In the end, after some reflection, I realized that maybe this had been the best thing for me. I was using that phone way too much relying on its usefulness and that travel bag made me a beacon for robbery. That and the pain my shoulder was giving me was really affecting my ability to stay angry at myself about it. The rest of the evening I spent at the hostel nursing my shoulder and trying to find a reason not to leave this city tomorrow. I even asked the host if I could get refunded for the days I had arranged to stay. Of course, it wasn't possible.
The next day I took a bus downtown with this other girl from the hostel to the bus station to check out departures and destinations. The station she had to go was for buses heading west and north and we discovered the station I needed was 3 blocks away from this one. As it turned out, her bus was leaving straight away so I ventured down to the other station solo. I found only a strong language barrier with the ticket agents there. Grrrr. Yet another frustration in Acapulco. I left the station without any more knowledge than I had come there with. So I just walked to cool off a bit in an attempt to restart my trip. Up to this point, it had been one thing after another of troubles with money, people and traveling. I really needed something to help brighten my spirits. After losing myself in my own negative thoughts and overall unhappiness, I found myself in the midst of a huge outdoor market. Right in front of me were delicious looking fresh strawberries and mango slices. I bought a bag of both. The flavors of the fresh mango immediately warmed my heart making my mind forget the previous few days. The market was full of vendors selling everything from vegetables, nuts, and meats to clothing, electronics and even kitchen sinks (seriously, I wished I had my camera because the market had everything AND kitchen sinks!). I ended up stopping in a small restaurant and having some tacos for lunch before finding a cab and heading back to the hostel once more.
This hostel ending up being the real turning point for me and my feelings about the trip I had so haphazardly and recklessly ventured out on. I ended up meeting so many awesome people. First there was Vivianna from Buenos Aires, then came Juan and Rodrigo from Mexico City, Adrian and Nicholas from Australia, Franco and Damian the Locoturbina visual artists from Buenos Aires, Daniel from Bolivia, Tom from the USA, Cecilie and Tina from Norway, Sarah and her sister from Germany and probably a few more I'm forgetting. It became quite a crew actually. Mainly myself, Juan, Rodrigo, Adrian, Nicholas, Franco and Damian. I can think of so many awesome things about all of these guys. First there were Juan and Rodrigo, brothers who were on a short travel trip from Mexico City. Juan was 18 and Rodrigo about 22. These guys came up with a phrase for me after we were hanging out a few days: "best gringo they'd ever met", lol. I actually made myself a little famous one night... The ladies who worked there would let me hook up my laptop to the sound system and we'd listen to 80s, 90s and current rock music on shuffle. This one infamous night, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" came on. (Yes, exactly). I did the entire music video dance scene in front of everyone. After which, I was called "The Thrilla!". Until that name changed to "Salad Boy" when I decided to order a salad for an appetizer at a restaurant where all 8 of us guys had gathered. They liked to poke fun at me. Adrian and Nicholas were from Australia reaching the end of their travel journey after I believe was 6 months. These were two very well built men in their mid-20's. I'm talking rugby built. Adrian was the crazy one... he'd wake everyone up in the hostel at 10am with his resounding "WAKE THE FUCK UP! IT'S TIME TO GET DRUNK!". So by 11am, the group was drinking and usually by 11pm Adrian was either sitting or dancing naked somewhere. Nicholas was more of the storyteller usually having everyone in tears laughing by the middle of one. Both of these guys were all around great people. The two guys forming Locoturbina, Franco and Damian were highly skilled visual artists. They showed us a video of their work and it was seriously like some Pixar animation type stuff. I was very impressed with it. Hopefully, we'll get to work together in Buenos Aires.
My second to last night there, I met this guy Tom, who hailed from the US. He was also 28 years old and we ended up sticking together somewhat after leaving Acapulco because we got along well. I discovered he was taking the bus down to Puerto Escondido for a few days before heading to San Cristobal. I thought this was a great idea and asked if it would be alright if I just joined him on the bus. Once this was agreed and plans were made, I announced to everyone where I was going... and within a span of about 10 seconds, everyone else chimed in, we're with you! So, we bought tickets the next day for an 1130pm bus ride to Puerto Escondido. I went with the crew to buy the bus tickets and met this guy Curt whom I had briefly met the night before. Curt is by far the biggest douche the world has ever seen. This kid was the most annoying, childlike, cocky, son of god knows what anybody had ever met. The reason I am even giving this kid the space in my blog is because of what happens in the future...
To be continued...
A short preview: Songs about Curt, Puerto Escondido and my favorite place so far, my unlikely dislike of Guatemala City, more new people met and an interesting crossing of borders.
When I got to Acapulco airport, I paid for a shuttle to the area I was staying and was told to wait. About 20 minutes later, myself and three other people were put into a taxi and taken to our specific locations. Mine being the K3 Acapulco Youth Hostel in Playa Condesa (Condesa Beach). This was a central location to everything and the hostel was across the street from the stairs down to the beach. The rooms in this hostel were so small! There were 2 bunk beds that jutted out from the wall itself. The entire room was about 6 feet wide and about 8 feet long. Luckily, I had the room to myself for the most part. I immediately took a shower to get off the sweat and grime from my day of traveling. A bit tired I decided that before I ventured out into the evening for some food that I'd just relax a bit in the huge patio overlooking the street. The hostel was up three flights of stairs and opened up into a half block length patio covered on one end and partly covered on the other allowing for sitting in the sun if one desired. There was a bar serving sandwiches, super-cheap beers and manned by middle aged local ladies who ended up becoming great friends with us. But before I get into who "us" were, there's a story of the first night which needs to be continued.
After my shower, I was sitting on the patio observing the traffic and people watching when this woman looking to be about my age sat at the table next to me and started smoking a cigarette. I struck up a conversation with her wondering where she was from and what good places were around to eat. She introduced herself as Vivianna on vacation from Buenos Aires. Her english and my spanish were about even, so we had a bit of fun communicating. I remembered that I had bought a bottle of wine with Nils from the San Diego hostel when we thought to make dinner one night (but ended up never getting around to it) and had been carrying it with me this far. She agreed to share it with me and if I remember correctly, it was from Napa Valley and named "Fat Cat". The wine was a red of some sort with a description on the back which led you every which way but to actually discovering anything about the wine itself. Vivianna and I enjoyed a good conversation learning about each other and talking about our plans for the present and future. We finished the bottle and went out to find something to eat. She had recommended this place called "Tacos & Beer". I couldn't think of a more awesome name for a streetside restaurant overlooking the beach. The menu was simple. After eating, we went to this bar called "Paradise" which was huge for a bar in my opinion. This place was modeled to look exactly like a pirate ship, with all the decor. I was actually very impressed with how tactfully and not-cheesy the place was designed and decorated considered what theme they'd chosen. It was two main floors with a raised third patio area. We sat at the bar and had a few cheap beers before calling it a night.
The next day I spent walking up and down the beaches of Acapulco. Starting at Playa Condesa and wandering myself all the way through the variously named "Playa's". The thing about most of these beaches is that you get hassled literally non-stop by merchants. Every 2 minutes, someone wasn't accepting "No, Gracias!" for an answer and continuing to try to talk you into buying something. It was so annoying that it got to the point where I was dropping the courtesy of saying gracias and just replying with a resolute "No!" This one merchant approached me with some crappy looking silver bracelets and after my 'No, Gracias', he proceeded to grab his privates and said in english with a heavy spanish accent as if he were making fun of it: "ohh, you want this senor, you need this..." I just kept repeating my "No, Gracias" until he walked off. (yikes!) After about a half day of this, I decided that it was finally time to get in the Pacific Ocean. I found some gringos on the beach and asked if I could hang out and leave my stuff with theirs while I went for a quick swim. The water was a bit chilly at first but very easy to get used to. I didn't stay in very long and retreated back to my beach spot to lie down and dry off under the sun's warmth. About a half hour later, I pick myself up off the beach and gathered my belongings. Right when I was about to take off, something hit me really hard on my shoulder and I was shoved straight down onto the sand. I had my day bag with me over that shoulder and it was ripped off my arm by one of the four guys who took off running up the stairs and away from the beach. In that bag was my phone, a small amount of cash, my travel journal, sunglasses, and a few other things. The biggest losses were my brand new blackberry smartphone which was the best thing ever and my travel journal which I had just started using every day. In the end, after some reflection, I realized that maybe this had been the best thing for me. I was using that phone way too much relying on its usefulness and that travel bag made me a beacon for robbery. That and the pain my shoulder was giving me was really affecting my ability to stay angry at myself about it. The rest of the evening I spent at the hostel nursing my shoulder and trying to find a reason not to leave this city tomorrow. I even asked the host if I could get refunded for the days I had arranged to stay. Of course, it wasn't possible.
The next day I took a bus downtown with this other girl from the hostel to the bus station to check out departures and destinations. The station she had to go was for buses heading west and north and we discovered the station I needed was 3 blocks away from this one. As it turned out, her bus was leaving straight away so I ventured down to the other station solo. I found only a strong language barrier with the ticket agents there. Grrrr. Yet another frustration in Acapulco. I left the station without any more knowledge than I had come there with. So I just walked to cool off a bit in an attempt to restart my trip. Up to this point, it had been one thing after another of troubles with money, people and traveling. I really needed something to help brighten my spirits. After losing myself in my own negative thoughts and overall unhappiness, I found myself in the midst of a huge outdoor market. Right in front of me were delicious looking fresh strawberries and mango slices. I bought a bag of both. The flavors of the fresh mango immediately warmed my heart making my mind forget the previous few days. The market was full of vendors selling everything from vegetables, nuts, and meats to clothing, electronics and even kitchen sinks (seriously, I wished I had my camera because the market had everything AND kitchen sinks!). I ended up stopping in a small restaurant and having some tacos for lunch before finding a cab and heading back to the hostel once more.
This hostel ending up being the real turning point for me and my feelings about the trip I had so haphazardly and recklessly ventured out on. I ended up meeting so many awesome people. First there was Vivianna from Buenos Aires, then came Juan and Rodrigo from Mexico City, Adrian and Nicholas from Australia, Franco and Damian the Locoturbina visual artists from Buenos Aires, Daniel from Bolivia, Tom from the USA, Cecilie and Tina from Norway, Sarah and her sister from Germany and probably a few more I'm forgetting. It became quite a crew actually. Mainly myself, Juan, Rodrigo, Adrian, Nicholas, Franco and Damian. I can think of so many awesome things about all of these guys. First there were Juan and Rodrigo, brothers who were on a short travel trip from Mexico City. Juan was 18 and Rodrigo about 22. These guys came up with a phrase for me after we were hanging out a few days: "best gringo they'd ever met", lol. I actually made myself a little famous one night... The ladies who worked there would let me hook up my laptop to the sound system and we'd listen to 80s, 90s and current rock music on shuffle. This one infamous night, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" came on. (Yes, exactly). I did the entire music video dance scene in front of everyone. After which, I was called "The Thrilla!". Until that name changed to "Salad Boy" when I decided to order a salad for an appetizer at a restaurant where all 8 of us guys had gathered. They liked to poke fun at me. Adrian and Nicholas were from Australia reaching the end of their travel journey after I believe was 6 months. These were two very well built men in their mid-20's. I'm talking rugby built. Adrian was the crazy one... he'd wake everyone up in the hostel at 10am with his resounding "WAKE THE FUCK UP! IT'S TIME TO GET DRUNK!". So by 11am, the group was drinking and usually by 11pm Adrian was either sitting or dancing naked somewhere. Nicholas was more of the storyteller usually having everyone in tears laughing by the middle of one. Both of these guys were all around great people. The two guys forming Locoturbina, Franco and Damian were highly skilled visual artists. They showed us a video of their work and it was seriously like some Pixar animation type stuff. I was very impressed with it. Hopefully, we'll get to work together in Buenos Aires.
My second to last night there, I met this guy Tom, who hailed from the US. He was also 28 years old and we ended up sticking together somewhat after leaving Acapulco because we got along well. I discovered he was taking the bus down to Puerto Escondido for a few days before heading to San Cristobal. I thought this was a great idea and asked if it would be alright if I just joined him on the bus. Once this was agreed and plans were made, I announced to everyone where I was going... and within a span of about 10 seconds, everyone else chimed in, we're with you! So, we bought tickets the next day for an 1130pm bus ride to Puerto Escondido. I went with the crew to buy the bus tickets and met this guy Curt whom I had briefly met the night before. Curt is by far the biggest douche the world has ever seen. This kid was the most annoying, childlike, cocky, son of god knows what anybody had ever met. The reason I am even giving this kid the space in my blog is because of what happens in the future...
To be continued...
A short preview: Songs about Curt, Puerto Escondido and my favorite place so far, my unlikely dislike of Guatemala City, more new people met and an interesting crossing of borders.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Travel Blog - Parte Dos
This blog picks up where the last one left off - my first day in Acapulco which was Wednesday, March 25th. I was there until the 31st when I boarded a 9 hour bus to Puerto Escondido. I was in P.E. until Saturday the 4th of April. I then went on a bus trip for 18 hours across the Guatemalan border and arrived in Guatemala City on Sunday the 5th of Abril. This part of the blog is about my experiences in Acapulco. I will catch up on Puerto Escondido and Guatemala City next time. Thanks for reading!
When I got to Acapulco airport, I paid for a shuttle to the area I was staying and was told to wait. About 20 minutes later, myself and three other people were put into a taxi and taken to our specific locations. Mine being the K3 Acapulco Youth Hostel in Playa Condesa (Condesa Beach). This was a central location to everything and the hostel was across the street from the stairs down to the beach. The rooms in this hostel were so small! There were 2 bunk beds that jutted out from the wall itself. The entire room was about 6 feet wide and about 8 feet long. Luckily, I had the room to myself for the most part. I immediately took a shower to get off the sweat and grime from my day of traveling. A bit tired I decided that before I ventured out into the evening for some food that I'd just relax a bit in the huge patio overlooking the street. The hostel was up three flights of stairs and opened up into a half block length patio covered on one end and partly covered on the other allowing for sitting in the sun if one desired. There was a bar serving sandwiches, super-cheap beers and manned by middle aged local ladies who ended up becoming great friends with us. But before I get into who "us" were, there's a story of the first night which needs to be continued.
After my shower, I was sitting on the patio observing the traffic and people watching when this woman looking to be about my age sat at the table next to me and started smoking a cigarette. I struck up a conversation with her wondering where she was from and what good places were around to eat. She introduced herself as Vivianna on vacation from Buenos Aires. Her english and my spanish were about even, so we had a bit of fun communicating. I remembered that I had bought a bottle of wine with Nils from the San Diego hostel when we thought to make dinner one night (but ended up never getting around to it) and had been carrying it with me this far. She agreed to share it with me and if I remember correctly, it was from Napa Valley and named "Fat Cat". The wine was a red of some sort with a description on the back which led you every which way but to actually discovering anything about the wine itself. Vivianna and I enjoyed a good conversation learning about each other and talking about our plans for the present and future. We finished the bottle and went out to find something to eat. She had recommended this place called "Tacos & Beer". I couldn't think of a more awesome name for a streetside restaurant overlooking the beach. The menu was simple. After eating, we went to this bar called "Paradise" which was huge for a bar in my opinion. This place was modeled to look exactly like a pirate ship, with all the decor. I was actually very impressed with how tactfully and not-cheesy the place was designed and decorated considered what theme they'd chosen. It was two main floors with a raised third patio area. We sat at the bar and had a few cheap beers before calling it a night.
The next day I spent walking up and down the beaches of Acapulco. Starting at Playa Condesa and wandering myself all the way through the variously named "Playa's". The thing about most of these beaches is that you get hassled literally non-stop by merchants. Every 2 minutes, someone wasn't accepting "No, Gracias!" for an answer and continuing to try to talk you into buying something. It was so annoying that it got to the point where I was dropping the courtesy of saying gracias and just replying with a resolute "No!" This one merchant approached me with some crappy looking silver bracelets and after my 'No, Gracias', he proceeded to grab his privates and said in english with a heavy spanish accent as if he were making fun of it: "ohh, you want this senor, you need this..." I just kept repeating my "No, Gracias" until he walked off. (yikes!) After about a half day of this, I decided that it was finally time to get in the Pacific Ocean. I found some gringos on the beach and asked if I could hang out and leave my stuff with theirs while I went for a quick swim. The water was a bit chilly at first but very easy to get used to. I didn't stay in very long and retreated back to my beach spot to lie down and dry off under the sun's warmth. About a half hour later, I pick myself up off the beach and gathered my belongings. Right when I was about to take off, something hit me really hard on my shoulder and I was shoved straight down onto the sand. I had my day bag with me over that shoulder and it was ripped off my arm by one of the four guys who took off running up the stairs and away from the beach. In that bag was my phone, a small amount of cash, my travel journal, sunglasses, and a few other things. The biggest losses were my brand new blackberry smartphone which was the best thing ever and my travel journal which I had just started using every day. In the end, after some reflection, I realized that maybe this had been the best thing for me. I was using that phone way too much relying on its usefulness and that travel bag made me a beacon for robbery. That and the pain my shoulder was giving me was really affecting my ability to stay angry at myself about it. The rest of the evening I spent at the hostel nursing my shoulder and trying to find a reason not to leave this city tomorrow. I even asked the host if I could get refunded for the days I had arranged to stay. Of course, it wasn't possible.
The next day I took a bus downtown with this other girl from the hostel to the bus station to check out departures and destinations. The station she had to go was for buses heading west and north and we discovered the station I needed was 3 blocks away from this one. As it turned out, her bus was leaving straight away so I ventured down to the other station solo. I found only a strong language barrier with the ticket agents there. Grrrr. Yet another frustration in Acapulco. I left the station without any more knowledge than I had come there with. So I just walked to cool off a bit in an attempt to restart my trip. Up to this point, it had been one thing after another of troubles with money, people and traveling. I really needed something to help brighten my spirits. After losing myself in my own negative thoughts and overall unhappiness, I found myself in the midst of a huge outdoor market. Right in front of me were delicious looking fresh strawberries and mango slices. I bought a bag of both. The flavors of the fresh mango immediately warmed my heart making my mind forget the previous few days. The market was full of vendors selling everything from vegetables, nuts, and meats to clothing, electronics and even kitchen sinks (seriously, I wished I had my camera because the market had everything AND kitchen sinks!). I ended up stopping in a small restaurant and having some tacos for lunch before finding a cab and heading back to the hostel once more.
This hostel ending up being the real turning point for me and my feelings about the trip I had so haphazardly and recklessly ventured out on. I ended up meeting so many awesome people. First there was Vivianna from Buenos Aires, then came Juan and Rodrigo from Mexico City, Adrian and Nicholas from Australia, Franco and Damian the Locoturbina visual artists from Buenos Aires, Daniel from Bolivia, Tom from the USA, Cecilie and Tina from Norway, Sarah and her sister from Germany and probably a few more I'm forgetting. It became quite a crew actually. Mainly myself, Juan, Rodrigo, Adrian, Nicholas, Franco and Damian. I can think of so many awesome things about all of these guys. First there were Juan and Rodrigo, brothers who were on a short travel trip from Mexico City. Juan was 18 and Rodrigo about 22. These guys came up with a phrase for me after we were hanging out a few days: "best gringo they'd ever met", lol. I actually made myself a little famous one night... The ladies who worked there would let me hook up my laptop to the sound system and we'd listen to 80s, 90s and current rock music on shuffle. This one infamous night, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" came on. (Yes, exactly). I did the entire music video dance scene in front of everyone. After which, I was called "The Thrilla!". Until that name changed to "Salad Boy" when I decided to order a salad for an appetizer at a restaurant where all 8 of us guys had gathered. They liked to poke fun at me. Adrian and Nicholas were from Australia reaching the end of their travel journey after I believe was 6 months. These were two very well built men in their mid-20's. I'm talking rugby built. Adrian was the crazy one... he'd wake everyone up in the hostel at 10am with his resounding "WAKE THE FUCK UP! IT'S TIME TO GET DRUNK!". So by 11am, the group was drinking and usually by 11pm Adrian was either sitting or dancing naked somewhere. Nicholas was more of the storyteller usually having everyone in tears laughing by the middle of one. Both of these guys were all around great people. The two guys forming Locoturbina, Franco and Damian were highly skilled visual artists. They showed us a video of their work and it was seriously like some Pixar animation type stuff. I was very impressed with it. Hopefully, we'll get to work together in Buenos Aires.
My second to last night there, I met this guy Tom, who hailed from the US. He was also 28 years old and we ended up sticking together somewhat after leaving Acapulco because we got along well. I discovered he was taking the bus down to Puerto Escondido for a few days before heading to San Cristobal. I thought this was a great idea and asked if it would be alright if I just joined him on the bus. Once this was agreed and plans were made, I announced to everyone where I was going... and within a span of about 10 seconds, everyone else chimed in, we're with you! So, we bought tickets the next day for an 1130pm bus ride to Puerto Escondido. I went with the crew to buy the bus tickets and met this guy Curt whom I had briefly met the night before. Curt is by far the biggest douche the world has ever seen. This kid was the most annoying, childlike, cocky, son of god knows what anybody had ever met. The reason I am even giving this kid the space in my blog is because of what happens in the future...
To be continued...
A short preview: Songs about Curt, Puerto Escondido and my favorite place so far, my unlikely dislike of Guatemala City, more new people met and an interesting crossing of borders.
When I got to Acapulco airport, I paid for a shuttle to the area I was staying and was told to wait. About 20 minutes later, myself and three other people were put into a taxi and taken to our specific locations. Mine being the K3 Acapulco Youth Hostel in Playa Condesa (Condesa Beach). This was a central location to everything and the hostel was across the street from the stairs down to the beach. The rooms in this hostel were so small! There were 2 bunk beds that jutted out from the wall itself. The entire room was about 6 feet wide and about 8 feet long. Luckily, I had the room to myself for the most part. I immediately took a shower to get off the sweat and grime from my day of traveling. A bit tired I decided that before I ventured out into the evening for some food that I'd just relax a bit in the huge patio overlooking the street. The hostel was up three flights of stairs and opened up into a half block length patio covered on one end and partly covered on the other allowing for sitting in the sun if one desired. There was a bar serving sandwiches, super-cheap beers and manned by middle aged local ladies who ended up becoming great friends with us. But before I get into who "us" were, there's a story of the first night which needs to be continued.
After my shower, I was sitting on the patio observing the traffic and people watching when this woman looking to be about my age sat at the table next to me and started smoking a cigarette. I struck up a conversation with her wondering where she was from and what good places were around to eat. She introduced herself as Vivianna on vacation from Buenos Aires. Her english and my spanish were about even, so we had a bit of fun communicating. I remembered that I had bought a bottle of wine with Nils from the San Diego hostel when we thought to make dinner one night (but ended up never getting around to it) and had been carrying it with me this far. She agreed to share it with me and if I remember correctly, it was from Napa Valley and named "Fat Cat". The wine was a red of some sort with a description on the back which led you every which way but to actually discovering anything about the wine itself. Vivianna and I enjoyed a good conversation learning about each other and talking about our plans for the present and future. We finished the bottle and went out to find something to eat. She had recommended this place called "Tacos & Beer". I couldn't think of a more awesome name for a streetside restaurant overlooking the beach. The menu was simple. After eating, we went to this bar called "Paradise" which was huge for a bar in my opinion. This place was modeled to look exactly like a pirate ship, with all the decor. I was actually very impressed with how tactfully and not-cheesy the place was designed and decorated considered what theme they'd chosen. It was two main floors with a raised third patio area. We sat at the bar and had a few cheap beers before calling it a night.
The next day I spent walking up and down the beaches of Acapulco. Starting at Playa Condesa and wandering myself all the way through the variously named "Playa's". The thing about most of these beaches is that you get hassled literally non-stop by merchants. Every 2 minutes, someone wasn't accepting "No, Gracias!" for an answer and continuing to try to talk you into buying something. It was so annoying that it got to the point where I was dropping the courtesy of saying gracias and just replying with a resolute "No!" This one merchant approached me with some crappy looking silver bracelets and after my 'No, Gracias', he proceeded to grab his privates and said in english with a heavy spanish accent as if he were making fun of it: "ohh, you want this senor, you need this..." I just kept repeating my "No, Gracias" until he walked off. (yikes!) After about a half day of this, I decided that it was finally time to get in the Pacific Ocean. I found some gringos on the beach and asked if I could hang out and leave my stuff with theirs while I went for a quick swim. The water was a bit chilly at first but very easy to get used to. I didn't stay in very long and retreated back to my beach spot to lie down and dry off under the sun's warmth. About a half hour later, I pick myself up off the beach and gathered my belongings. Right when I was about to take off, something hit me really hard on my shoulder and I was shoved straight down onto the sand. I had my day bag with me over that shoulder and it was ripped off my arm by one of the four guys who took off running up the stairs and away from the beach. In that bag was my phone, a small amount of cash, my travel journal, sunglasses, and a few other things. The biggest losses were my brand new blackberry smartphone which was the best thing ever and my travel journal which I had just started using every day. In the end, after some reflection, I realized that maybe this had been the best thing for me. I was using that phone way too much relying on its usefulness and that travel bag made me a beacon for robbery. That and the pain my shoulder was giving me was really affecting my ability to stay angry at myself about it. The rest of the evening I spent at the hostel nursing my shoulder and trying to find a reason not to leave this city tomorrow. I even asked the host if I could get refunded for the days I had arranged to stay. Of course, it wasn't possible.
The next day I took a bus downtown with this other girl from the hostel to the bus station to check out departures and destinations. The station she had to go was for buses heading west and north and we discovered the station I needed was 3 blocks away from this one. As it turned out, her bus was leaving straight away so I ventured down to the other station solo. I found only a strong language barrier with the ticket agents there. Grrrr. Yet another frustration in Acapulco. I left the station without any more knowledge than I had come there with. So I just walked to cool off a bit in an attempt to restart my trip. Up to this point, it had been one thing after another of troubles with money, people and traveling. I really needed something to help brighten my spirits. After losing myself in my own negative thoughts and overall unhappiness, I found myself in the midst of a huge outdoor market. Right in front of me were delicious looking fresh strawberries and mango slices. I bought a bag of both. The flavors of the fresh mango immediately warmed my heart making my mind forget the previous few days. The market was full of vendors selling everything from vegetables, nuts, and meats to clothing, electronics and even kitchen sinks (seriously, I wished I had my camera because the market had everything AND kitchen sinks!). I ended up stopping in a small restaurant and having some tacos for lunch before finding a cab and heading back to the hostel once more.
This hostel ending up being the real turning point for me and my feelings about the trip I had so haphazardly and recklessly ventured out on. I ended up meeting so many awesome people. First there was Vivianna from Buenos Aires, then came Juan and Rodrigo from Mexico City, Adrian and Nicholas from Australia, Franco and Damian the Locoturbina visual artists from Buenos Aires, Daniel from Bolivia, Tom from the USA, Cecilie and Tina from Norway, Sarah and her sister from Germany and probably a few more I'm forgetting. It became quite a crew actually. Mainly myself, Juan, Rodrigo, Adrian, Nicholas, Franco and Damian. I can think of so many awesome things about all of these guys. First there were Juan and Rodrigo, brothers who were on a short travel trip from Mexico City. Juan was 18 and Rodrigo about 22. These guys came up with a phrase for me after we were hanging out a few days: "best gringo they'd ever met", lol. I actually made myself a little famous one night... The ladies who worked there would let me hook up my laptop to the sound system and we'd listen to 80s, 90s and current rock music on shuffle. This one infamous night, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" came on. (Yes, exactly). I did the entire music video dance scene in front of everyone. After which, I was called "The Thrilla!". Until that name changed to "Salad Boy" when I decided to order a salad for an appetizer at a restaurant where all 8 of us guys had gathered. They liked to poke fun at me. Adrian and Nicholas were from Australia reaching the end of their travel journey after I believe was 6 months. These were two very well built men in their mid-20's. I'm talking rugby built. Adrian was the crazy one... he'd wake everyone up in the hostel at 10am with his resounding "WAKE THE FUCK UP! IT'S TIME TO GET DRUNK!". So by 11am, the group was drinking and usually by 11pm Adrian was either sitting or dancing naked somewhere. Nicholas was more of the storyteller usually having everyone in tears laughing by the middle of one. Both of these guys were all around great people. The two guys forming Locoturbina, Franco and Damian were highly skilled visual artists. They showed us a video of their work and it was seriously like some Pixar animation type stuff. I was very impressed with it. Hopefully, we'll get to work together in Buenos Aires.
My second to last night there, I met this guy Tom, who hailed from the US. He was also 28 years old and we ended up sticking together somewhat after leaving Acapulco because we got along well. I discovered he was taking the bus down to Puerto Escondido for a few days before heading to San Cristobal. I thought this was a great idea and asked if it would be alright if I just joined him on the bus. Once this was agreed and plans were made, I announced to everyone where I was going... and within a span of about 10 seconds, everyone else chimed in, we're with you! So, we bought tickets the next day for an 1130pm bus ride to Puerto Escondido. I went with the crew to buy the bus tickets and met this guy Curt whom I had briefly met the night before. Curt is by far the biggest douche the world has ever seen. This kid was the most annoying, childlike, cocky, son of god knows what anybody had ever met. The reason I am even giving this kid the space in my blog is because of what happens in the future...
To be continued...
A short preview: Songs about Curt, Puerto Escondido and my favorite place so far, my unlikely dislike of Guatemala City, more new people met and an interesting crossing of borders.
Catchup
Hola!
I think it's about time I get around to finally catching up with this. For a long time, it's been really hard for me to write because most of my mental thoughts have been so intense that I have a hard time putting them into words. So, I figured it's probably best if I talk about the physical aspects of my trip and get into the state of mind as I go along. Onwards...
The last post was from my first day in San Francisco. Since then, I've been traveling for 27 days. I was in San Francisco from March 4th until the 13th. My friends Pamela and Monica were with me for the first day with Meredith joining us on the second. On Friday the 6th, we went to the Opulent Temple party on Treasure Island and had a decent time. It was a bit hard to get into at first, but the party and vibe got better as the night went along. The girls stayed in San Francisco until Sunday night, the 8th, upon when I checked into the Backpackers Hostel which happened to be in an alleyway behind the hotel the four of us had stayed in. Over the weekend, we went to Fisherman's Wharf a few times, went to the San Francisco Academy of Sciences for a late night party with a dj and drinks, checked out a party on a pier, visited some art galleries where all the art was for sale, had some fun with ice cream at Ghirardelli Square, had a fantastic meal in Castro, and walked around A LOT!
After the ladies left for back home, I visited some different corridors of the city like checking out a dubstep/dnb party with my friend John from SF and this guy I met at the hostel, Carl. Carl was a cool dude, we ended up doing a few different things together during the day and night. Before the party for instance, we walked around the Haights District (after it was closed unfortunately) and got to see the famous Amoeba Records store. That record store was amazing by the way -- they had the biggest EDM section I've ever seen and the prices were so low for so much great music. I didn't buy anything though, things like that aren't really things you buy when you're traveling in my opinion. The next night, I went into the Mission District for a few reasons... the first was to check out a Couchsurfers meetup which happened to be at this place called The Coffee Bar. I got there really early because I saw they were showing Saturday Night Fever and figured I'd have a bite to eat, watch the movie and maybe see some funny people. As it turns out, my friend Rob who had moved out there about two years earlier lived nearby and upon seeing my facebook update came to join me. We chatted and had fun watching this couple dance disco-style during the dance scenes in the movie at the restaurant. Then the CS meetup began and we ended up meeting quite a few people which warranted some great contacts for the future. I left the meetup around 11pm and headed to my second destination for the night, a psytrance party my friend Anna was djing at. It was good times and she played a great set. I'm not even much of a psytrance fan, but I did enjoy the music on this night.
On Friday the 13th I took the metro to Oakland because I had found a rideshare on Craigslist to Los Angeles and one of the stops in that city was the meeting point. It was about a 5 hour drive and unfortunately we didn't take the scenic route 1, but that would've taken an extra 3 hours not including stops. So, the highway it was. A boring ride but we had some decent small talk along the way. He dropped me off in the middle of Los Angeles, near UCLA I think and told me the busstop was right on this corner. With all my stuff, I'm standing on this corner with no busstop sign looking like an idiot while all the college people walk by. I waited about 5 minutes before I pulled out my trusty blackberry and opened up the LA transit guide. Apparently, the busstop was about 3 blocks away, heh. I found the bus and made my way to Koreatown and the hostel. When I got to the hostel, all the lights were off and the doors locked. I had to call over and over again to wake up the guy on duty. It was after midnight and I was getting a little pissy. But, he woke up and checked me in. I ended up being the only person in this huge 10 bed dorm. I didn't mind it so much because I could stretch out and didn't have to use headphones for my computer. During my stay in LA I visited Rodeo Drive, La Brea Tarpits, the LACMA art museum and took a bus trip down to Venice Beach for the day. On Monday I boarded a train called "The Coaster" down to San Diego. This was a fantastic ride right along the coast. Some beautiful scenary. I also spent most of the ride making a mix of new and old music. Perhaps I'll post it later when I find a nice internet connection and it won't take 3 hours to upload.
San Diego was awesome. I stayed at the Ocean Beach International Hostel in a 6 bed room that was full most of the time. My first night there, they had 'Beer Pong' night. I was a bit worried that the hostel was full of an underage frat crowd.... and I was right for the most part. It turned out there were some really awesome people there. During my stay, I explored Mission Beach, went to a party where Skandar was djing between sets of an Adam Freeland concert, trekked on the trolley down to San Ysidro with two Germans, Nils and Isabell, where we crossed the border into Mexico and visited Tijuana--Tijuana was a funny day, just check out the photo album. I also went with Skandar one night to two clubs, the first is not memorable but was the big rave club in the area, it was a decent space but I didn't really enjoy it. The second place we went was the Kava Lounge. That place was great. The vibe, the music (even though the dj wasn't really mixing), and definitely the people. I had a lot of fun dancing. On Saturday, I met up with Skandar and his roommates to go to a desert party. I was hoping to get a chance to dj at the event but hadn't gotten my hopes up so I never really practiced or bought new music. The drive was about 3 hours and it wasn't what I expected at all. I expected a burner type of event with theme camps, multiple music stages and hundreds of people. Instead it was a desert rave with one main promoter setting up the stage and about 200 people camping out. The vibe and crowd was awesome though. About 20 minutes after we got there, I met the promoter and he mentioned that one of the dj's wouldn't be showing up so since Skandar had put me on standby, it was my slot to have. And, the time of the slot? 11:30-1am, and right after Skandar. Talk about butterflies in the tummy! I spent about an hour in the car studying music and trying my best to prepare something for the set. When I say "prepare" it means I like to find a good intro track and a good track to mix into depending on what I believe the dj before me will be playing so as to keep the flow and vibe strong. My set turned out to be a huge success :) In fact, during the tail end, I was playing one of my favorite songs and all of a sudden the wind picked up creating a dust storm which ripped the tarp off of the shade structure that was set up. So, I like to think to myself that I actually ripped the roof off of the place, hehe. We stayed up all night listening to fantastic dj's play some fantastic music, and having some great conversations. There was a pretty strong dust storm in the morning when we were trying to leave which made packing up a bit frustrating. Finally, we got on the road exhausted yet still wired from the party. The drive even became part of the adventure... rock slides, an overturned truck with RV, and some tired aggression between the group. But we got home safely and passed out shortly after. I stayed with Skandar and his roomies for 2 nights before leaving on the 24th.
On Tuesday the 24th, I took the trolley down to San Ysidro again with all my gear and walked across the border into Tijuana. Then I caught a cab to the airport for a flight to Acapulco with an overnight layover in Mexico City. Mexicana airlines reminds me of flying to Arkansas when I was much younger... the plane served free food and even free booze!! Of course, I had one, a tequila and coke. I landed in Mexico City about 11pm and took the metro all the way into this district called Sevilla. I was staying at a hostel for the night, which turned out to not be the best idea in the world because I had to get up and out of the hostel by 7am. I finally got to sleep around 1am. I woke up at 645 and left the hostel by 715am. I then boarded the metro to the airport, but ended up getting lost because during morning rush hour the trains run on a different schedule and stop/start in weird places. I got to the airport at like 915 for a 955am flight. Security was a bitch! I had to go back and forth a few times because their detector was malfunctioning and wouldn't let anyone past until it worked. Through security at 950 and sprinting for my plane only to find out it had just left the hangar. During my sprint I actually tripped and scraped up my knee in my hurry. Nothing like karma hitting those precise moments in life. Anyways, I went to the counter to get a new ticket and got stuck in line behind a family of about 25 (seriously) and was stuck waiting for over an hour. At this point, my frustration had already drifted into just plain acceptance of my fate. The agent then tried to charge me an extra $50USD to get a new flight. After some complaining and pleading in my broken spanish, she bypassed the charge and put me on a 2pm flight. Phew. I made it to Acapulco that afternoon because the flight was only about 90 minutes. I paid for a shuttle to the hostel and a cab ended up taking a few others and me.
The hostel was called K3 International Hostel and this marks the beginning of an insane week.
To be continued...
Thanks for reading :)
I think it's about time I get around to finally catching up with this. For a long time, it's been really hard for me to write because most of my mental thoughts have been so intense that I have a hard time putting them into words. So, I figured it's probably best if I talk about the physical aspects of my trip and get into the state of mind as I go along. Onwards...
The last post was from my first day in San Francisco. Since then, I've been traveling for 27 days. I was in San Francisco from March 4th until the 13th. My friends Pamela and Monica were with me for the first day with Meredith joining us on the second. On Friday the 6th, we went to the Opulent Temple party on Treasure Island and had a decent time. It was a bit hard to get into at first, but the party and vibe got better as the night went along. The girls stayed in San Francisco until Sunday night, the 8th, upon when I checked into the Backpackers Hostel which happened to be in an alleyway behind the hotel the four of us had stayed in. Over the weekend, we went to Fisherman's Wharf a few times, went to the San Francisco Academy of Sciences for a late night party with a dj and drinks, checked out a party on a pier, visited some art galleries where all the art was for sale, had some fun with ice cream at Ghirardelli Square, had a fantastic meal in Castro, and walked around A LOT!
After the ladies left for back home, I visited some different corridors of the city like checking out a dubstep/dnb party with my friend John from SF and this guy I met at the hostel, Carl. Carl was a cool dude, we ended up doing a few different things together during the day and night. Before the party for instance, we walked around the Haights District (after it was closed unfortunately) and got to see the famous Amoeba Records store. That record store was amazing by the way -- they had the biggest EDM section I've ever seen and the prices were so low for so much great music. I didn't buy anything though, things like that aren't really things you buy when you're traveling in my opinion. The next night, I went into the Mission District for a few reasons... the first was to check out a Couchsurfers meetup which happened to be at this place called The Coffee Bar. I got there really early because I saw they were showing Saturday Night Fever and figured I'd have a bite to eat, watch the movie and maybe see some funny people. As it turns out, my friend Rob who had moved out there about two years earlier lived nearby and upon seeing my facebook update came to join me. We chatted and had fun watching this couple dance disco-style during the dance scenes in the movie at the restaurant. Then the CS meetup began and we ended up meeting quite a few people which warranted some great contacts for the future. I left the meetup around 11pm and headed to my second destination for the night, a psytrance party my friend Anna was djing at. It was good times and she played a great set. I'm not even much of a psytrance fan, but I did enjoy the music on this night.
On Friday the 13th I took the metro to Oakland because I had found a rideshare on Craigslist to Los Angeles and one of the stops in that city was the meeting point. It was about a 5 hour drive and unfortunately we didn't take the scenic route 1, but that would've taken an extra 3 hours not including stops. So, the highway it was. A boring ride but we had some decent small talk along the way. He dropped me off in the middle of Los Angeles, near UCLA I think and told me the busstop was right on this corner. With all my stuff, I'm standing on this corner with no busstop sign looking like an idiot while all the college people walk by. I waited about 5 minutes before I pulled out my trusty blackberry and opened up the LA transit guide. Apparently, the busstop was about 3 blocks away, heh. I found the bus and made my way to Koreatown and the hostel. When I got to the hostel, all the lights were off and the doors locked. I had to call over and over again to wake up the guy on duty. It was after midnight and I was getting a little pissy. But, he woke up and checked me in. I ended up being the only person in this huge 10 bed dorm. I didn't mind it so much because I could stretch out and didn't have to use headphones for my computer. During my stay in LA I visited Rodeo Drive, La Brea Tarpits, the LACMA art museum and took a bus trip down to Venice Beach for the day. On Monday I boarded a train called "The Coaster" down to San Diego. This was a fantastic ride right along the coast. Some beautiful scenary. I also spent most of the ride making a mix of new and old music. Perhaps I'll post it later when I find a nice internet connection and it won't take 3 hours to upload.
San Diego was awesome. I stayed at the Ocean Beach International Hostel in a 6 bed room that was full most of the time. My first night there, they had 'Beer Pong' night. I was a bit worried that the hostel was full of an underage frat crowd.... and I was right for the most part. It turned out there were some really awesome people there. During my stay, I explored Mission Beach, went to a party where Skandar was djing between sets of an Adam Freeland concert, trekked on the trolley down to San Ysidro with two Germans, Nils and Isabell, where we crossed the border into Mexico and visited Tijuana--Tijuana was a funny day, just check out the photo album. I also went with Skandar one night to two clubs, the first is not memorable but was the big rave club in the area, it was a decent space but I didn't really enjoy it. The second place we went was the Kava Lounge. That place was great. The vibe, the music (even though the dj wasn't really mixing), and definitely the people. I had a lot of fun dancing. On Saturday, I met up with Skandar and his roommates to go to a desert party. I was hoping to get a chance to dj at the event but hadn't gotten my hopes up so I never really practiced or bought new music. The drive was about 3 hours and it wasn't what I expected at all. I expected a burner type of event with theme camps, multiple music stages and hundreds of people. Instead it was a desert rave with one main promoter setting up the stage and about 200 people camping out. The vibe and crowd was awesome though. About 20 minutes after we got there, I met the promoter and he mentioned that one of the dj's wouldn't be showing up so since Skandar had put me on standby, it was my slot to have. And, the time of the slot? 11:30-1am, and right after Skandar. Talk about butterflies in the tummy! I spent about an hour in the car studying music and trying my best to prepare something for the set. When I say "prepare" it means I like to find a good intro track and a good track to mix into depending on what I believe the dj before me will be playing so as to keep the flow and vibe strong. My set turned out to be a huge success :) In fact, during the tail end, I was playing one of my favorite songs and all of a sudden the wind picked up creating a dust storm which ripped the tarp off of the shade structure that was set up. So, I like to think to myself that I actually ripped the roof off of the place, hehe. We stayed up all night listening to fantastic dj's play some fantastic music, and having some great conversations. There was a pretty strong dust storm in the morning when we were trying to leave which made packing up a bit frustrating. Finally, we got on the road exhausted yet still wired from the party. The drive even became part of the adventure... rock slides, an overturned truck with RV, and some tired aggression between the group. But we got home safely and passed out shortly after. I stayed with Skandar and his roomies for 2 nights before leaving on the 24th.
On Tuesday the 24th, I took the trolley down to San Ysidro again with all my gear and walked across the border into Tijuana. Then I caught a cab to the airport for a flight to Acapulco with an overnight layover in Mexico City. Mexicana airlines reminds me of flying to Arkansas when I was much younger... the plane served free food and even free booze!! Of course, I had one, a tequila and coke. I landed in Mexico City about 11pm and took the metro all the way into this district called Sevilla. I was staying at a hostel for the night, which turned out to not be the best idea in the world because I had to get up and out of the hostel by 7am. I finally got to sleep around 1am. I woke up at 645 and left the hostel by 715am. I then boarded the metro to the airport, but ended up getting lost because during morning rush hour the trains run on a different schedule and stop/start in weird places. I got to the airport at like 915 for a 955am flight. Security was a bitch! I had to go back and forth a few times because their detector was malfunctioning and wouldn't let anyone past until it worked. Through security at 950 and sprinting for my plane only to find out it had just left the hangar. During my sprint I actually tripped and scraped up my knee in my hurry. Nothing like karma hitting those precise moments in life. Anyways, I went to the counter to get a new ticket and got stuck in line behind a family of about 25 (seriously) and was stuck waiting for over an hour. At this point, my frustration had already drifted into just plain acceptance of my fate. The agent then tried to charge me an extra $50USD to get a new flight. After some complaining and pleading in my broken spanish, she bypassed the charge and put me on a 2pm flight. Phew. I made it to Acapulco that afternoon because the flight was only about 90 minutes. I paid for a shuttle to the hostel and a cab ended up taking a few others and me.
The hostel was called K3 International Hostel and this marks the beginning of an insane week.
To be continued...
Thanks for reading :)
Friday, March 6, 2009
San Francisco - Day One
I posted my photos from the day on Facebook and Flickr for all to see. I'm afraid I don't have too much time to write as much as I'd like due to the company I'm with at the moment. But I have so much to say! Had an amazing day yesterday running around the city, hopefully you can see that from the pictures :)
I'll update the day-to-day notes on Monday when I find more free time.
Cheers!
Facebook photos: http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=5744562&k=5ZB652TY356MYBMAXCYXV
Flickr photos (they are the same): http://www.flickr.com/photos/dizzylines/
I'll update the day-to-day notes on Monday when I find more free time.
Cheers!
Facebook photos: http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=5744562&k=5ZB652TY356MYBMAXCYXV
Flickr photos (they are the same): http://www.flickr.com/photos/dizzylines/
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Leaving Tomorrow!
This will be the mainstay for my travel blog over the next few months. It will probably be more of a mental drain about where I am, what's going on and ramblings about my own personal well-being. I hope you enjoy reading my posts in the future as some will be deep and possibly a little hard to understand, but others will be very light-hearted, warm and nostalgic.
Thank you for being in my life.
So far, my plans are as follows:
Wednesday, March 4th, 2009: Fly out of Washington Dulles Airport via a Virgin (hehe) and arrive in San Francisco, CA about 1am PST. Then I stay in SF for awhile before heading south exploring more of California's cities and coast. I land in San Diego around the 18th and head out to a desert party where I hope to dj. After that weekend, I travel into Tijuana for a flight to Mexico City where I'll stay overnight. Then I board a plane the next morning to Acapulco. From there, the journey continues...
Cheers!
Thank you for being in my life.
So far, my plans are as follows:
Wednesday, March 4th, 2009: Fly out of Washington Dulles Airport via a Virgin (hehe) and arrive in San Francisco, CA about 1am PST. Then I stay in SF for awhile before heading south exploring more of California's cities and coast. I land in San Diego around the 18th and head out to a desert party where I hope to dj. After that weekend, I travel into Tijuana for a flight to Mexico City where I'll stay overnight. Then I board a plane the next morning to Acapulco. From there, the journey continues...
Cheers!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
holy crap i have a blog
I don't even remember signing up for blogspot, but here I am. Taken here through a friend's wife's blog and deciding to follow hers.
I'm not really one for writing bio's as I like to talk about myself in person instead of to a white canvas. Perhaps, I'll start spouting off about all the things that bother like a Synz version of "You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?!" or maybe I'll just use this as a place to lurk.
Whatever I decide, I'm sure no one will care, unless they read and agree.
Cheers!
I'm not really one for writing bio's as I like to talk about myself in person instead of to a white canvas. Perhaps, I'll start spouting off about all the things that bother like a Synz version of "You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?!" or maybe I'll just use this as a place to lurk.
Whatever I decide, I'm sure no one will care, unless they read and agree.
Cheers!
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