la loca peregrina

Roof View

2008-03-15T19:29:00.000-07:00

Mi Casa - Luna's Castle Hostel

2008-03-02T05:37:00.000-08:00

Luna's Castle Hostel
Casco Viejo
Panama City, Panama

Luna's Castle Hostel
Calle 9na Este
Casco Viejo

Although I live and work at Luna's Castle Hostel, I am convinced that it is the most unique, comfortable and convivial backpacker hostel. Our walls are adorned with vibrant art made exclusively for Luna's Castle and we have so much communal area that it is easy to meet people. Day by day we are making this place the coolest spot to hang out in the city - we even built a three-tiered movie theater. All of our guests love the atmosphere and the amenities. My favorite part of the building is the incredible view of the new city and the towering churches of Casco Viejo.

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Below are several pictures of the most famous plaza in Panama - Plaza Catedral (or Plaza de la Independencia), which is only two blocks from Luna's. You can see the towering steeples from our balconies.

The Panama Festival de Jazz ended with a free concert in front of the cathedral.

The bay view from Luna's Castle is spectacular.
As you can see, it is hard to abstain from taking repetitive pictures.

Our neighborhood, San Felipe (or Casco Viejo, same thing) is full of polarities. Below are a few photos from around the neighborhood. I love the contrast of the newly remodeled buildings next door to decrepit abandoned homes.

Av. Balboa moving towards the financial district.

A truly fantastic and gaudy building on Av. Central.

The local grocery/everything store.

Av. Central

City in the Sky

2007-06-03T11:06:00.001-07:00

Place: Machu Picchu, Peru
Time: Early February, 2007

Truly fascinating. Even after everything I heard and read about Machu Picchu I was profoundly impressed. It is a guilty pleasure to witness the ingenuity that went into the construction of a city in the sky whose creators wanted it left in eternal privacy.

It took intensive labor to transport and precisely place each massive stone. The garden soils were brought in from the fertile Sacred Valley miles away. The towering conicle peaks with roaring, meandering rivers below are unreal. Every aspect of the city was premeditated except for its sudden, inexplicable demise.

I am so pleased to have had the opportunity to witness the grandeur of the Inca. Obviously, I took too many pictures but I have chosen a few to share with inquiring eyes. Truly fascinating.

Colors of Pisac

2007-05-30T07:55:00.000-07:00

Place: Pisac, Peru (North of Cusco)
Time: February '07

I always wanted to take pictures of the colorful vesture of the Incan descendents. However, it was either overly intrusive or cost a few cents. During Carnival things were different. The streets of Pisac, Peru, were so crowded with colorful faces that no one cared if you eternalized their image. Britt and I took advantage.

Place: Potosi, Bolivia
Time: Late February '07

Dale un Beso Chao

2007-05-20T11:30:00.000-07:00

Here are a few more photos. I will be writing more on this post, so check it again! I just wanted to post the pics (I told my father I would!). Daleunbesochao.

La Boca.
Orginally the Italian ghetto, la Boca was home to hordes of immigrants back in the day.

Plaza de Mayo. The portenos choice locale for political protest.

Recoleta cemetery. Best place to take eery photos of stray cats and tombs.

The drunk puppet. San Telmo

La Casa Rosada. When the national flag is posted on top, the prez is inside.
Plaza de Mayo.
5 blocks from my house.

Photo Favorites

2007-05-02T14:59:00.000-07:00

A few of my favorite photos from this journey.
(Post color correction)

Bocas del Toro, Panama.

Bocas del Toro.

Cali market, Colombia.

Taganga, Colombia.

Tunja, Colombia.

Villa de Leyva, Colombia.

Baricharra, Colombia.

Panama City.

A Few Photos of Bs As

2007-05-02T14:42:00.000-07:00

I have been here over two months now and still lack photos of my favorite places in Buenos Aires. However, to please my father, I have been carrying my camera around with me and every once in a while I remember to utilize it.

The following are random shots from around town. More to come!

The famous obelisk in the middle of 9 de Julio (the worlds widest avenue)

Puente de Mujer, Puerto Madero.

Meagan digesting some delicious sushi.

Get it before it's gone! (Sushi with quinoa, yummy)

Part of my favorite Sunday musical group at the San Telmo feria.

Street performers in San Telmo. (The future of Noah and Zan)

Sunny Fall day in Puerto Madero.

Back to Colombia (via Photos)

2007-04-13T12:52:00.000-07:00

As mentioned a time or two, I loved Colombia. The people, the landscape, the people, everything. So I have posted some pics of a few of the places I loved.

* * *

I know I promised more frequent posts now that I am settled in Buenos Aires, however, now that I am settled in Buenos Aires my days are full of work, play and wander. To say the least, I love Buenos Aires. The city is safe, the buildings antique towers, the food overwhelming and the friends nearly too entertaining. Sushi nights, fashion design fairs, asados, dancing, red wine, ordering in, cable TV, walking to work, swarming mosquitos, torrential downpours, empanadas, medialunas, Tillamook cheese! (smuggled in from the outside), lunfardos, mate, alfajores, cockroaches, corner stores, subte line A, travel reencounters and homemade dulce de leche icecream.

* * *

Back to Colombia

The red-brick road that leads to Guane.

Jon and the crazy guy hanging out in the crazy guys corn field in front of the crazy guys abandoned home drinking a beer bought by the crazy guy.

Guane

Some of the only living creatures seen on the walk to Guane from Baricharra.

Drinking a cafe in a cafe in Baricharra.

Beautiful Baricharra

TITI KAKA

2007-03-20T16:18:00.000-07:00

Photos from our journey around Lake Titicaca and on the Isla del Sol.
February 2007.

Janna, Andy, Me and Britt a few hours into our five-hour hike.

Britt and our mascota, Toto, who followed us for a few miles.

Top of Isla del Sol.

Bolivian Gathering for Carnaval.

Sunset on Isla del Sol, Carnaval.

Sugar Cane Factory

2007-03-12T14:17:00.000-07:00

Here are some photos from a tour of a sugar cane making factory back in San Agustin, Colombia.

Bienvenidos a Buenos

2007-03-09T11:07:00.000-08:00

I’ve never lived in a big city. And despite the more than 11 million porteños who shuffle through Buenos Aires, it still feels manageable. Then again, I have only been here since last Monday.

When I arrived, the city dripped with sweat in a late summer heat wave. My clothes clung to my skin as I stumbled off the 27-hour coche cama bus ride from the Bolivian border. The ride was relatively smooth – even with a two-hour fatal highway accident delay. I found myself seated with a young lady from Denver, CO, with a naturally large and unnaturally orange afro.

My temporary residence upon arrival was the South American Explorers (SAE) Clubhouse (where I was to be interning). A queen bed, a high-powered shower and plumbing sophisticated enough to dispose of toilet paper – luxury.

Located in the center of the San Telmo historic district, the SAE office served as my home for a week. Known as the tango district, San Telmo is full of antique boutiques, trendy handmade clothing stores, cafes, more antique shops. and the famous Sunday flea market (mainly antique and retro items). My mother and her sisters would have a heyday.

After vigorous searching and a predisposition to good luck, I found an economical room to rent in an apartment with an American and a Canadian girl. Albeit, my room is the size of an extremely generous walk-in closet, it is cozy and colorful. And to make myself feel like a permanent guest, I bought a sizeable plant and bedroom adornments. It is wonderful to not live out of a backpack.

Even though there are more than 11 million people living in every nook of this city, I have still managed to find people from home. To top all random occurrences in my travels, I looked at an apartment in an unknown part of town where randomly a Highschool classmate of mine had moved in that same day – 1 in 11 million! Also, after moving into my room I discovered that my new roommate was from Portland, OR. Later, while buying an umbrella, I encountered a girl wearing a University of Oregon sweatshirt. Small world.

As I begin a more sedentary lifestyle, I find myself unable to resist the plethora of shopping opportunities of the big city. It is also nice to own more than one pair of pants, a nice shirt and some cute black flats that will pass at a club.

Hopefully now, I will find time to post some pictures from the past six months of adventure. And fill in some time gaps with travel stories.

Apurrado

2007-02-24T11:13:00.000-08:00

The pace has picked up and a lot of territory has been covered in the past month. I left off in Baños, Ecuador. From there I have been to Vilcabamba, Ecuador; Mancora, Lima, Cusco, Aguas Calientes, Machu Picchu and Pisac in Peru; and Copacabana, Isla del Sol (Lake Titicaca), La Paz, Coroico and Potosi in Bolivia.

This could become an extremely long-winded entry, so I will try and focus on the highlights and non-highlights.

Non-highlights:

- Crossing the border from Ecuador to Peru. This must be one of the worst bordercrossings. To get from Vilcabamba to Mancora, Britt and I road 3 buses, 3 taxis, 1 motorcycle driven cart, 2 colectivos and walked down the highway, sweaty in the humidity, for 15+ minutes. No one was helpful and many tried to dupe us.

- Flight from Lima to Cusco. Britt and I decided to fly to Cusco to avoid a possibly trecherous 24-hour bus ride. The 1-hr flight lasted a long, enfamished, 6 hours - a weather prohibited landing sent us back to Lima to wait in the plane until conditions improved.

Highlights:

Machu Picchu

At 5:45 a.m. our overpriced luxury bus crisscrossed its way up into the clouds. Britt and I entered Machu Picchu National Park unaware of which direction to wander because the cloud cover was so thick you could only see a few yards ahead. The low hum of lawn mowers and the herding of the resident llamas added to the ambience.

Wandering through the agricultural sector, which resides outside the city walls, we took a seat and contemplated the possible terrain beyond the clouds. Within five minutes the white-wall opened to reveal the Sacred City of the Incas spread below us. It felt as if the city waited for us the properly place ourselves for its premeir unveiling.

Although not as expansive as I had envisioned, Machu Picchu is extremely impressive: The steep, terraced agricultural sector with steps built into the walls to save space; the large, precisely cut, white granite stones that make the city; the water drainage system, which provided potable water throughout the city; the roaring, unnavigable, Urubamba River that windes inbetween all of the conical peaks; Huayna Picchu - the moutain that towers above the city; the dedication to build a city only to abandon it.

We trekked up the steep, winding stairs of Huayna Picchu, where at the top you tower over the city and can crawl through a few ruins. The layout of Machu Picchu was intended to appear in the shape of a condor (one of the three most important animals to the Inca, the other two being the serpent and the puma), which you can makeout from the Huayna Picchu.

As budget travelers, Britt and I decided to evesdrop on other English or Spanish guided tours, which enriched our cultural experience.

Currently, I am not sure who technically owns Machu Picchu. I believe the governments maintains control over the site but to get there you have to go through many private investors. It is possible to hike alone (not on the Inca Trail) to Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu Pueblo), but it is not advertised and requires pre-planning. As time constrained us, we opted to take the train, which is the only advertised way for tourist to reach Machu Picchu without hiking to Inca Trail. Unfortunately, the train is owned by a Chilean company. It is depressing that the Inca descendents do not benefit monetarily from the tourist invasion of their sacred city. Despite the high prices, I loved experiencing Machu Picchu.

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Well, Sorry I have not completed my account of all the above listed locations. I have been distracted by many wonderful people chatting on gmail. So, until later this week.

Oh, just a quick note. I got the internship I applied for in Buenos Aires and will be starting later this week. Yeah.

Dollar - Peso - Dollar

2007-02-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

I have made it to Ecuador, which means back to the American dollar and back to gringolandia. After a difficult decision, I left Colombia on January 17 - mainly because my 60-day visa expired that same day. After two military bus blockades the busdriver kindly kicked me out of the bus 15 minutes outside of Otavalo. (He figured that the gringa who had never been to Ecuador would have divined the correct departure point.)

My second say in Otavalo I ventured into the nearby nature where I was attacked by a pack of six angry dogs - one of which drew blood! Welcome to Ecuador.

To say the least, I was a little disheartened after my first few Ecuadorian episodes. Nonetheless, I have managed to make the past two weeks stupendous - equatorial beaches, tropical cocktails and more amazing new friends.

As mentioned, I loved Colombia. So far, one of the greatest differences between Ecuador and Colombia has been the people. Of course, there are beautiful, warm people in Ecuador but I find that in Ecuador I have been more inclined to hang out with fellow travelers more than locals. I have been warned by locals not to trust the locals.

At my first coastal destination, Canoa, there was not much more than waves and pool tables, which is all I really need for a relaxing retreat. The harsh equatorial sunrays were ideal for improving my diminishing tan. Next stop, Mompiche, was even more desolate, which made it even more relaxing. I spent the days with Donny and Evan from the U.S. and Robert from Iceland swinging in hammacks, drinking Pilsener, eating fresh shrimp and blasting my iPod on the speakers.

On the 31, I rushed to Quito to meet up with Britt, a very close friend of mine from Eugene. Now, we are with another college friend of hers, Amy, and living it up in Baños (south of Quito). We spent four lovely days with a family friend of Britts in Quito, which was quite a treat after nearly five months of traveling. They took us to fancy dinners (escorted by the son´s driver!) and opened up their home to all three of us. I finally got to drink real red wine (not from a box!).

Today, the three of us rented mountain bikes and cruised down a beautiful Andean highway. The ride was filled with waterfalls and short hikes to keep us entertained. I was elated to be feeling the breeze of a bikeride after so many months. Unfortunately, things turned sour when we met three travelers who had within minutes been robbed at gunpoint - rented bikes, passports, cameras, shoes - all stolen. I can´t imagine what would have happened if we had not stopped all of the times we had. Coincidentally, one of the unfortunate travelers was from Oregon, and named Meredith. Weird. Nonetheless, our ride was enjoyable and I am certain that that was a rare occurrence.

* * *

Britt also has a travelblog .... www.brittmiss.blogspot.com Check it out, we will be traveling together for atleast a month.

Zoooooo

2007-01-17T17:47:00.000-08:00

With nothing else to do, Noam and I ventured to the local zoo. I am not generally a fan of zoos (animals in captivity), but the Cali zoo was well kept. My only qualm was that the larger mammals were living solo, pobrecitos. Of course, the birds and butterflies were my favorite.

Black vs. White

2007-01-17T17:15:00.000-08:00

Festival de Blancos y Negros

Pasto, Colombia

Will explain in a minute, just want to get the pics up, they explain quite a bit

Señorita Cali

2007-01-17T16:20:00.000-08:00

As promised....girls in bikinis.

(the following photos are courtesy of Hurricane Trish, Professional Wandering Photographer)

The escorts

I have a feeling the pretty old man does make-up, just a guess.

This guy came out at the end, I can´t explain why.

San Cipriano

2007-01-17T15:29:00.000-08:00

San Cipriano is hidden in the jungle on the western coast of southern Colombia. All of its 450 inhabitants are of African descent. Located in the middle of the jungle, the only means of transportation to the pueblo is the railroad; but there is no longer a train that runs this route. The locals have engineered a motorcycle driven trolley to transport people and goods to the town. It is not fathomable until you see it for yourself.

Miraculously, on New Years day the Cali gang and I ventured to San Cipriano. Our first mission upon arrival was to bathe in the river; any trace of a hangover immediately vanished upon immersion. We spent the rest of the day watching the local kids play jump rope and salsa down the train tracks.

On our second day we innertubed down the river, which was swifter than anticipated. One set of rapids sent us straight into a whirlpool. Up to four would get stuck at a time - the fifth knocking one out and getting stuck themself. (Needless to say once we got out of the whirlpool we jumped out to do it again.)

The ingenious trolley in action

The crew - Tim, Matt, Noam, Me and Richie

Houses on stilts

Photos - Xmas to Año Nuevo

2007-01-17T14:58:00.000-08:00

CALI, COLOMBIA

Hanging out at the Calidad House before going out on New Years Eve.

¡Feliz Año Nuevo!

On New Years Eve with Noam (Israel)

Rumbeando en Cali

"El Artista"
Another crazy Colombian we hung out with in Cali

Gringos love Poker.

Christmas Day night with Hurricane Trish (London)

Drive-by flashing, Cali
Wales, Batman and Colombia.
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With the Calidad House ladies:

I could not resist the grumpy old man while Meagan and I waited for Trish to get her hair cut.

Meat on the street
Lunch

I love my new hat!
(I know it looks big, but it rolls up for easy traveling)

With Trish and Meagan after the Carnaval Parade and before
our interview with the local TV station.

Carnaval Cali

2007-01-10T15:25:00.000-08:00

Many things have happened since I last informed you. The New Year has brought amazing friendships and wild adventures. I feel blessed to be in Colombia right now; the people make it their responsibility to accomodate me and make me feel at home. I missed my family and friends on Christmas but I have seen another culture´s holiday celebrations and met many inspiring people in the past weeks.

For all of you who vicariously share my travel adventures I wish you the best in 2007. I enjoy knowing that someone is listening. And please, I highly encourage you to post comments (on the bottom). You do not need to be a blogger member and you are not required to leave your name. If you have any questions in reference to my travel experience please do not hesitate, I will answer them as best I can.

* * *

It is vacation time in Colombia and the locals have gone mad. Starting with Christmas and New Years, every city in the nation has closed shop to party in the streets.

For Christmas, Meagan and I reunited in sunny southern city of Cali. Between Christmas and the New Years, Cali explodes with its annual Feria de Cali. Salsa music, bull fights, parades, beauty pagent and more. To fully enjoy the festivities we acquired exclusive press passes. It was easy - all we did was walk into the press office and they were enthralled to hear that international press wanted to cover their coveted carnaval. I interviewed one of the organizers, Guillermo, just to save face and practice my reporting skills.

On Christmas Eve, thirteen of us at the hostel enjoyed a grand feast. It was not quite traditional but it was a massive, which is all any of us really wanted. It was comforting to find myself surrounding by warm people for the holiday.

On Christmas day, the streets of Cali were quiet during the day but exploded with salsa music at night. Not knowing what to expect, we wandered down to calle Sexta (the bar district) only to be accosted by masses of crazy Colombians. They covered us with spray foam and talca powder all the time smiling and yelling "feliz navidad!"

In Cali, it is impossible to walk a block at night without making a new friend. Out of all of Colombia, caleños are the most approachable. They want to know everything there is to know about you. They need to know the names and occupations of your family and your inner most desires. They also insist on teaching you salsa. So, in Cali we made many many late night friends.

I joined a group of fellow international journalists to the Señorita Cali swim suit competition, which proved to be more boring than anything else. Cali is famous for the most beautiful women in all of Colombia. The contestants were plenty beautiful; but it took so long for one of them to walk around the pool that by the end I was too caught up in thoughts of lunch that it was anticlimatic. (Don´t worry I will post pics of ladies in bikinis soon.)

OK, the Internet Cafe is closing. There is much more of Cali and Colombia to be shared. However, I promised to post something, so it may be unrevised but it is a start. Hopefully there will be more tomorrow. Feliz 2007!

Photographs Colombia

2006-12-29T14:19:00.000-08:00

Some photos from all around Colombia

Sorry the first few appear to be poor in quality; I am having issues with the photobucket. Enjoy.

Parque Tayrona

Villa de Leyva.

With the ladies, Debbie, Rocio and Meagan.

Going price for a cow: $300.

Campo

In Bogotá in front of the Plaza de Toros.

The Lorro that caused us so many problems in Guane.

My favorite: Fresh sugar cane juice with lime.

Envigado, Medellín.

Bogotá

Botero sculpture in Bogotá.

I Heart Colombia

2006-12-28T10:51:00.000-08:00

Since November 19, I have been wandering throughout Colombia: Cartagena, Santa Marta, Taganga, Aracataca, Parque Nacional Tayrona, Baricharra, Guane, San Gil, Tunja, Paipa, Villa de Leyva, Bogotá, Medellín, Guatape, Cali. And there is still so much more to see.

There is so much to share and, as usual, time restrains me from over elaboration; however, I will to my best to indulge you in the pleasures of South America´s happiest nation, Colombia.

Taganga: Over the ridge from Santa Marta, in the lazy bayside pueblo of Taganga, it is easy to lose all concept of time. The days pass with a smile, sitting aside the water, swimming, drinking half-a-dozen exotic fruit juices and devouring fresh fish. At the local restaurants, people cook from their kitchen and send the children across the street to purchase the food, as you sit there and watch. (It would be too difficult to walk the few yards to buy your own beer for a quarter less.)

The travelers Meagan and I met in Taganga were some of the best travelers I have yet to encounter. Pablo from Argentina, Rocio from Spain, Jon and Elliot from the U.S., two Oregonians, Debbie from Israel, Sebastian from Sweden, and many many more. I find that travelers in Colombia, more than in Central America, are making a valiant effort to learn Spanish. It is refreshing to be around other foreigners who make an effort to speak to the locals and do not rely on the skills of those who already speak the language.

Aracataca: Far from the gringo trail, Aracataca is the birthplace of Colombia´s literary luminary, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. In his most famous book, 100 Years of Solitude, he creates the town Maconda, which is based on the sleepy streets of his hometown. Visiting the town, brought back memories of the protagonists, the Buendias, and the events of the book (which you should all read, of course). Many of the characters and events in his books are based on people and events from his life.

Rocio, is more than a fanatic of his work and skeemed out the whole adventure for all of us. The highlight, aside from the inquisitive stares from the locals, was becoming a member of the little local library. Rocio, Jon, Meagan and I are the four newest members, out of 30, in the entire little town. We also visited Marquez´s home, which is now a mini museum.

Parque Nacional Tayrona: Image Google this. It is breathtaking. Hiking into the park, with a purse full of goodies I was enthralled by the jungle around me. I went with Jon, Elliot, Rocio, Debbie and Pablo, with the intention of spending one night; I left five days later. With a rent-a-tent and an ocean view, leaving after 24 hours seemed sinfull.

There is plenty to explore in the park, which I did not fully take advantage of, but what I saw was enough to ensure a future return. We spent one afternoon hiking to Pueblito, a small archaeological site of the Tayrona Indians. The site itself was small and boring, but the hike was the real adventure. You climb up a series of large granite stones, which were placed there, somehow, in route from the ocean to the little pueblo.

Unfortunately, Meagan had decided not to spend the night in the park. She was a little disappointed when I returned five days later than anticipated, to say the least.

After several weeks on the coast, I decided to change route and head to the colonial highlands north of Bogotá. Meagan was directed to Medellín so we split and set out on sola missions.

First stop: Baricharra. My new travel companion, Jon, and I were instantly drawn to Baricharra. The white buildings with red roofs, old churches and cobble streets appear the same as the did hundred of years ago. Even the cars in Baricharra have an oldtime look. The people here move at a deliberate pace, there is nothing to rush to. As in all of Colombia, the families walk in groups through the streets, stop at the central plaza to chat and drink coffee in the corner cafe.

People in Colombia are much more community oriented. Throughout the holiday season, each municipality fills the town with festive lights and organizes live music and other activities for the people to share. In each of the towns I have visited, I have been asked if I have gone out to see the illuminación (lights). Colombians, are obsessed with it. It is not like Eugene, where families will illuminate their homes, here the city lights up all the plazas and many of the streets. I love it.

From Baricharra, Jon and I spent a day walking along a National Heritage Trail to the slumbersome Guane. Here, people move at an even slower rate than Baricharra. The community has less than 2,000 people; I believe most have lived there their entire lives.

The day in Guane was full of craziness, so those details will have to wait, a parade is calling.

More Photos of Everything

2006-12-16T07:32:00.000-08:00

*check again tomorrow, there will be more photos*

Villa de Leyva, Colombia.

Panama

Gran Colombia

2006-12-15T12:47:00.000-08:00

If you have never visited Colombia, please drop all presumptions you may have about the country. I love Colombia. The people are warm and welcoming, the land is lush green and you can find every type of landscape. And contrary to popular belief, Colombia is not dangerous; I have yet to see a guerilla.

There has been so much activity in the past weeks that I do not know where to start. I could write an entire entry on each and every place I have been but that would take too much time away from experiencing Colombia. So, I will give an overview and elaborate as much as possible.

CARTAGENA de INDIAS

As mentioned, Cartagena is beautiful. The colonial old town is surreal. The only thing holding it back is the plethora of vendors selling everything imaginable (no joke). I enjoyed walking along the old wall that encircles the old town and eating comida corriente (plate of the day) or $3.000 (about $1.25). There are many small plazas throughout the city where people gather to sip tinto (black coffee) and move about at the Colombian pace (very slow).

For Thanksgiving, our friend Daniel (one of the owners of the hostel I loved in Panama), flew in to cook us up a feast. With no oven improvisation was pertinent. He and his lovely girlfriend Natalie made pork roast wrapped stuffing, asparagus prosciutto salad, mashed potatoes and pan roasted veggies. Not bad for a Thanksgiving improv.

We spent a week in Cartagena but I was more than ready to leave when the time came. The only thing holding us back was the nearby Volcan Totumo. Totumo is the most peculiar volcano of therapeutic mud. We finally made it there and it was truly a volcano of mud. The pressure caused by the volcano makes it so you just kind of stick in the mud. When you have had enough of the mud you can bathe in the lagoon. Meagan and I made friends with a clan of children who offered to help clean to mud out of our hair.

Running out of time..... will write about the rest of Colombia very shortly.

Cartagena

Volcan de Lodo. Volcan Totumo

Note to All My Amazing readers....

2006-11-24T12:38:00.000-08:00

Just a quick note to all who actually read this thing on a regular basis. (Wakan, Kelsy and my parents.) I know you all just want photos, so, I added photos to some of the older entries - Survivor Panama, Steel Rat, Riding in Cars and of course the next few entries, which are all photos. Hope all are well.

My Mondo Birthday

2006-11-24T12:21:00.000-08:00

A Mondo Taitu birthday parrillada.

The chef.

The meat.

Random Photos, Again

2006-11-22T12:21:00.000-08:00

Some random photos from all over.

Zach with his dead Montero.

Mud Trek with Sabine.

Bocas del Toro, Panama.

V.I.P. Bocas del Toro, Panama.

La Fortuna, Costa Rica.

Too much fun after hotsprings in Arenal, Costa Rica.

With Sabine on Playa Bluff, Isla Colon, Panama.

Isla Colon, Panama.

Playa Zapatilla, Panama.

View from Taxi boat from Playa Red Frog to Isla Colon, Panama.

Steel Rat

2006-11-22T12:08:00.000-08:00

I could have lived aboard the Stahlratte for an eternity. Life was simple - wake up, swim, eat, swim to island, snorkel, swim back to boat, read in hammack, eat, talk, listen to music, swim, hang out, eat, read, sleep. There was more to it, but that basically sums it up; lots of swimming and relaxing and eating.

The day after our jungle-Jeep-trek the last five people of our group arrived. Two of them had motorcycles, which they brought out on a Kuna canoe. Fieter, the captain of the Steel Rat, took our passports to customs and we were ready for the Carribbean.

In total we were 19: five Americans, two kiwis, one Australian, one Austrian, six Germans, one Dutch, one Frenchman, and two Englishmen. It felt like there was more German than English spoken on the boat.

Our first four days were spent in the paradise of the archipelago of the San Blas islands. Home to the Kuna Indians, the San Blas islands are picture perfect; serene little islands, some populated and some not. We even spent time on an all sand island, not a single palm tree, only shells, coral and sand.

The Kuna are known for their bright attire and hand-woven molas, which are basically colorful wall hangings or pillow covers. Throughout the first few days the Kuna women would canoe over to the boat to sell molas. All of the Kuna have very soft yet angular profiles. To me, they look humble and ancestral.

There was enough wind the second day to hoist the sails. I was impressed. The Stahlratte is 40 meters long (120 feet roghly) and if I knew the terminology of boats I would explain more. (The picture should suffice.) Being my first overnight open-water experience, everything impressed me. Raising the anchors and truly sailing was exhilerating. We moved faster than I expected and made it to our destination within a few hours. The best part was seeing a half dozen dolphins surround the boat - they are as cute and sweet as I always wanted them to be.

Unfortunately, that was the only day the winds were strong enough; we moved off steam for the rest of the journey.

At our new location we could jump ship and swim to small islands. All around the islands there was fantastic coral for snorkling. There were so many vibrantly neon fish of all shapes and sizes, brain coral, lobsters, sting rays, jelly fish, baracudas, and many things I could never name. Brian, a fellow shipmate, saw two hammerhead sharks cruising around.

After a few days in the archipelago we sailed for Cartagena: 40 hrs of open sea. We split the crew into four groups, each group had 10 hours to be in control of cooking and cleaning. There is no way that the three official crew could man a ship of such size with that many passengers.

A little about life aboard the massive Steel Rat:

Fieter, the captain, told me that they named the ship Stahlratte because it was the last choice on the list. The boat is more than 100-years-old and is currently cruising the oceans on a seven-year around the world journey. There are 23 beds, one bathroom (you have to voraciously, one freshwater shower, a fully equiped kitchen, a dining room, a den with a TV many DVDs and a stereo system (the first night we came aboard to 2Pac blasting throughout the boat), a massive dinner table on the top deck, and three hammacks. Eating on the top deck with the surrounding views felt fictitious. How did we get here?

I felt comfortable with each person on board, and I am sure that everyone else felt the same; all world wanderers who know how to enjoy life. I felt lucky to be surrounded by such a group on a boat; especially when there is no removing yourself from the setting. Nonetheless, the boat was large enough to find private places to contemplate. My personal favorite spot (especially at night when the sky lights up) was in the front net that hangs 25 feet from the sea.

I could write about the journey from Panama to Cartagena for hours, so I will spare you the sore eyes and list some of the more outstanding moments:

Sunbathing on deck while listening to the wave-like rhythms of Kind of Blue and staring aimlessly at the turquise sea with a ship wrecked boat in the distance.

Swinging pirate-style from the ropes into the ocean.

Stopping in the middle of the ocean, at approximately 3,000 meters, to swim. No land to be seen. No other boats. This is where I learned the meaning of Navy blue.

Sleeping to the soft sway of the ocean.

Barbecueing on the deserted island.
Hanging out and snorkling on the sand island, which was only about 20 feet across. Ana and Marco, from Germany, brought two sprouted coconuts; we´ll see if we can hang a hammack between them on our next visit.

Arriving in Cartagena. It looked exactly as I wanted it to. Sun worn hue and lots of boats in the marina.

Reading time. There were several moments when a group of 10 or more would be silently reading together.

Pumping the toilet flusher, 15-20 times, and vastly improving the strength of my right arm.

Fresh coffee, all day long.

We anchored in Cartagena at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday. It was too early for customs so we just hungout. After a few hours a crew of four Colombian policemen showed up. They wanted to board the ship and see all of our passports. Amrei, of Austria, and I took control of the situation.

We had to explain that we did not have the passports on board because the captain took them to make photocopies; which was true in part. He had taken the passports to dry land to give them to a big fat German who would get the entry stamps for us. It sounds odd, and it was, we were not present at customs but that did not seem to be a problem. The policemen´s attitude completely reversed when Amrei and I began to talk to them. One told me to get the stamp the following day and to come into town and party that night. He also offered Amrei his cellphone number in the case that we needed anything. Just send the ladies who speak Spanish to sweet talk the police, it works every time.

Now we are in Cartagena, and the adventure here has already begun. I am repeatedly kicking myself for not bringing an SLR camera with me. The little camera does all right, but the possibilities with an SLR....

AND NOW.....PHOTOS: many are from other shipmates cameras. Amrei had a waterproof case for her camera, so many shots from the sea are from her. We have videos as well.

View from island of our glorious boat.

Sunset from the back of the boat.

Marco building a fire for the BBQ.

Conchas for dinner.

Our dingy with Klaus and Amrei.

San Blas.

Feasting table on top deck.

Hoisting the sail. Scott, Klaus, Amrei and Brian.

Swimming in the open waters.

Rope swinging.

The Stahlratte

Kuna woman with son, selling molas.

Visit the Stahlratte at www.stahlratte.de

Survivor Panama

2006-11-22T11:02:00.000-08:00

Trip from carribbean coast of Panama to the shores of Cartagena: $275

Trip from Panama City to carribbean coast, three options:

A: fly in a small, 10-person plane, 1-hr: $36
B: take a Jeep through the jungle, 2-5 hrs: $20
C: Take a bus then a boat, more hrs: about $25

Obvious choice, B - more economical and more enticing.

We met Fieter, the German captain of the Stahlratte, in Panama City. He was kind so we decided to join the crew to Cartagena. All we had heard of boats to and from Cartagena was horrendous accounts of seasickness and hunger. (Albeit, everyone did pawn over the beauty of the archipelago of San Blas.) However, there were a few trustworthy boats, and the Stahlratte (German for Steel Rat) was one of them.

The crew who had chosen travel option B met at 9 a.m. Monday morning. Everyone was excited to hit the open waters. We set off in two extra-cabin trucks and a SUV.

We reached the jungle road and it began to rain. The driver switched on the wipers only to find that the fuse had gone out. No worries, he was a good driver, and who needs to see on a muddy jungle road? I was only slightly concerned when he religiously crossed himself with a look of "I hope we make it."

We reached the first steep incline and the fun began. The two trucks busted up the hill, no problem. We slid back and forth and into a ditch. No problem, the driver walked ahead to get a truck to pull us out. The truck showed up, and of course, it too got stuck. We got out the Kevlar ropes and played tug-a-war with first the second car, then the first, then the second. Eventually the driver of the first truck and Fieter show up, on foot. The first truck rolled over in a ditch. Three cars down.

After an immense amount of brutte force we managed to get both of the first two trucks out of the mud and up the hill; the first hill out of many. After that, for every incline we got out of the car and walked up the hills - shoeless in the adobe-colored clay mud - laughing all the way. It was more terrifying sliding up the hills in the car. At one point, I scanned the plush jungle in search of the camera crew; I was sure we had entered an episode of Survivor, Can 12 gringos and 3 Panamanians get 3 trucks through the jungle?

After multiple delays in the mud we reached the first, flipped vehicle. I was pleased to learn that the passengers had gotten out of the truck prior to the flip because the driver, Abuelo, was unsure about the turn.

It was beginning to get dark at this point but the flip was accomplished with relative ease. Unfortunately, the engine was dead. No worries; we packed all 15 people with all their baggage and food for the boat in the other truck and SUV. Lucky me got to lie across all of the backpacks in the back of the SUV with about 3 inches between me and the roof of the car.

This particular road is also the only way into Panama from the Comarca region; which means that it is the thoroughfare for the cocaine trade. This could get interesting.

A few more terrifying slides and we arrived at a flooded river bank. A group of generous Kuna packed all of our stuff onto two canoes and drove us straight to the Steel Rat. The first sight of the boat was surreal. It was big and beautiful; and not muddy. The crew met us with a hose and hot fresh fish soup.

In the end, the 2-5 hrs lasted 12. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

* * *

Riding in Cars with Panamanians

2006-11-12T20:58:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This entry, as most, was written after the fact and reads more like a rambling of thoughts than a well thought out sequence of events. Also, I do not reread, that would cost more money at the Internet cafe.

* * *

I am finding it difficult to sit here and write in English. My first words were immediately in Spanish. This is good. In Panama City, we have been spending all of our days with pure Panamanians. It is refreshing to stay where there is little to no English spoken. It is easy to follow the traveller-circuit (also referred to as the Lonely Planet circuit), which directs all people to a select number of hostels. We are staying at the Lyons House (or Lion House, or Lions House, they can´t seem to get it consistent on any sign), in Casco Viejo.

Panama City is very modern, but Casco Viejo was built during colonial times. Walking down the street, Avenida Central, I am surrounding by three-story colorful buildings; they all have balconies and many are unkept and decaying. I am fascinated by the architectural contrasts. I have never known to much of architecture but I learned quite a bit about the city from my friend Alan. He generously gave me a personal mid-night tour of the barrio. He was once a tour guide so his information is legitimate. He pointed out historical houses, explained the construction of the churches, noted all buildings that have had major fires, and you get the idea.

Alan also introduced us to rasta Javier. I call him that because he truly is a rasta. He even has a triangle with JAH written in it tattooed on his forehead. Javier is different from any person I have ever met. He explained the true nature of rastafarian life but seemed very uncertain of himself at the same time. I am always interested in meeting new characters.

Two more of our city guides were Ian Carlos and Braulio (previously listed as Juan Carlos and Alex). Ian is the son of the owner of Lion House, so he was around all the time. These two are characters. Ian Carlos constantly fathers Braulio who is just being his funny self. They are skaters. They would fit it nicely with our friends back home. On our last night in the city they took us to eat in the ghetto. In the ghetto, for lack of a better word, the streets are overflowing with partying Panamanians and latin music. The only food to be found is fried fish and fried plantain. It was delicious. The sound level was so high we could barely communicate. It was the perfect place to end our stay in the city.

Afterward, they drove us the canal. Every person we meet has said "You haven´t been to Panama until you see the canal." But we thought we were going to be in the city much longer when the opportunity to hop ship appeared. So, we had missed the canal. Ian and Braulio brought us to the part of the canal where locals go to make-out with their lady friends. So atleast we can say that we saw the canal, just not the touristy part. It fit in with our locals city experience.

Another favorite nook was La Casona, an ecclectic art-oriented bar a few blocks from the Lion House. One night they were showing the entire The Wall video. I thought it was odd to find a group of artists showing Pink Floyd videos at a bar in old town Panama City.

In Panama City we decided to indulge our capitalistic insicts and go shopping. The joy of owning a new item of clothing after wearing the same three things for two months is like trying chocolate for the first time. And when tank tops are $1.99 you don´t feel so bad. Neither Meagan or I are big shoppers but we found ourselves at the mall four different times. We also went to the movies.

We had one more Panamanian guide, David. He has spent the past year living in Eugene. Meagan had met him there and he was excited to show us around his city. With him we were shown a more upscale version of Panama City. We went out to a fancy restaurant (by our low standards), the casino and he drove us to the causeway, where you can see the entire city lit up. It was fun talking to a foreigner who knows Eugene.

Overall, it was nice to have personal guides to drive us around town. I don´t feel that we did much touring but we definitely enjoyed the city as it is enjoyed by its inhabitants.

View of Lion House from our first room.

Ian Carlos and Perdy, his ´73 van. Braulio is in the window.

At a party in El Valle with some more crazy Panamanians.

Photos Panama 1

2006-11-08T16:28:00.000-08:00

It is very difficult to upload photos. The ones I have are a very random collection of the hundreds of pictures Meagan and I have taken. When we find a place where we can upload we most certainly will.

* * *

BOCAS DEL TORO, PANAMA.

Relaxing on the beach in Manzanillo, Costa Rica. Life is rough, isn´t it?

Chaos and Panama

2006-11-07T13:18:00.000-08:00

Yes, it has been a while. (Sorry Wakan). But that can only imply that life is too good to be held up in an over airconditioned Internet cafe. Nonetheless, I do have ample adventures to share. I am still digesting some and there placement will come at a later entry.

* * *

I am instantly enamored with every new location I visit. The only fault of my affliction is that the journey is moving south slowly. Meagan and I finally left Bocas del Toro after a glorious two and a half week disappearance in the island vortex. We loved it. We are now in Panama City. We love it.

As a prolonged guest at the Mondo Taitu castle there were many things to be thankful for: Sme´s cooking, hammacks, books, beer, and beaches. First off, the food prepared by Daniel (Sme) was to die for, to list a few: Fresh red snapper burgers; chicken, sausage and shrimp gumbo; chicken parmesan with fresh primavera sauce; potatoe, leek, bacon soup; grilled tuna in a passionfruit sauce; and for my birthday a massive parrillada with every cut of meat that I am willing to ingest and fresh salsas and salad (pics will be posted shortly). Each night was a lesson in cooking from scratch. Dinner time is already deeply missed.

In Bocas we became friends with a mix of fellow travellers, American expats, rastas and locals. Many of whom I am certain will be lifelong friends. Two of highlight are Abby and Kat from Calgary, Canada. They are just like me; they are awesome. Unfortunately, Abby left this morning, denting our tight group.

I will indulge you in a day with the girls in Panama City:

After an interesting night at a ¨party¨ with some Panamanians, our friends Juan Carlos and Alex promise to take us to the beach the following day.

Following day, 6 p.m.: Lying on the floor of a Volkswagen van Juan Carlos wrenches into reverse - on the highway in torrential rain - throwing all five unbelted passengers into disarray. However, this is to be expected, after the chaos that has been our day "at the beach." There is a trend among Panamanians to have no clue what the hell they are doing at any moment in time. The day did begin at a beach, kind of, but it ended in a completely different region of the country. The rediculousness reached climax when we arrived at our final destination: The future location of a hotel, according to Juan Carlos. However, my sentiment was more along the lines that this so-called hotel was really the mountain hideaway to some obscure Panamanian cartel. Abby and I shared a bed with a cockroach. I don´t believe that anyone slept that night. Everytime my eyes grew heavy I thought about the possible scabbies infestation and about how many other randoms had taken to that bed before. Needless to say, our day at the beach was not as we had anticipated.

Time constrains me and I will indulge you all in more stories as soon as possible. Next stop Colombia. But we see when that comes to pass.

Love Life

2006-10-24T15:33:00.000-07:00

When I went to Buenos Aires in 2005 I immediately fell in love with the vibrant atmosphere. That is why I was determined to return and try my luck as a portena (Argentine of Buenos Aires).

This journey started as a prelude to my future life in Argentina.

Last week I met two Argentine men who both reaffirmed my need to live in Buenos Aires. Within a day of meeting Matias and Guillermo they not only offered good advice on what neighborhood to live in but they offered us their mothers' home (atleast for the food and temporary free housing). Guillermo even gave us the email of a friend whom he claims is the best looking man in the city and the second kindest. I love these brief yet memorable encounters.

* * *

Although I have a final destination on this indefinite journey, I have not restricted myself to any schedule or plan. Meagan and I spent five days in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, riding cruiser bikes, sleeping in a hammack hotel and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the carribbean. One day, we rode our bikes to a beach about an hour south of our temporary home. Soaring down the hills surrounded by plush greenery and unidentifiable noises was delightful, to say the least. My only complaint about Puerto Viejo was that the hostel had a slight "spring break" vibe, which does not interest me. Nonetheless, I was sad to be moving on.

Now, Meagan and I find ourselves comfortably at home in Bocas del Toro, Panama. This place is paradise. I enjoyed Puerto Viejo but now I am not sure if I will ever leave Bocas, my new home. I have become so comfortable with my surroundings that the days pass as if it were the only life I ever knew. Wake up, chat with my ever-changing group of roommates, breakfast, boat trip to one of the nearby islands, snack/nap/shower, then home cooked meals with my new family.

The owners of the hostel, Mondo Taitu, instantly became brothers to Meagan and I. Daniel, Dan and Dave (or Sme, Saxe and Bean) are SF Bay natives. They bought the property two years ago and have been living the life of island kings ever since. We have become so friendly with one another that I have begun working for them. Currently, I am posted at the front desk, checking in the new arrivals and answering random travel questions. People routinely ask me how long I have lived here, they are slightly taken aback by my answer of 1 week. However, in return I sleep for free and may receive a few beers as well. No complaints. This is why I find the prospect of leaving unrealistic.

More to come....work calls.....

El Caribe

2006-10-17T16:59:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Caribbean: white, powder soft beaches; cruiser bikes; fresh coconut milk straight from the tree; coral reefs; jerk chicken and fried plantains; green and blue water in all directions; islands; howler monkeys; lizards as prolific as the birds; cold beers; dread locks; reggae all day long; sun and an afternoon shower; mosquitos; hammacks; and the regional colors of red, green and yellow.

Life is amazing. We have met more like-minded people in the last week than I could have anticipated. Every day has brought about a new adventure and I will write about them and post pictures as soon as there is time; however, now it is happy hour and it´s been a long day at the beach. Just a few highlights: sleeping in a hammack hotel, 1-hour bike ride to a paradise of a beach, night swimming while watching shooting stars, every one I´ve met, boat rides through the islands. I will update soon.

Leland's Castle

2006-10-11T14:27:00.000-07:00

I know we promised we were leaving San Jose. However, we contacted another Eugenian friend, Leland, and decided to stay with him a few nights.

Homemade Pad thai dinner

One of many strictly outdoor roommates.

Photos While I Wait

2006-10-07T11:33:00.000-07:00

If you took the time to read the previous post (as I hope you did) you will understand that I am now bored and waiting to leave San Jose. So, to kill time I offer you pictures of random pleasure.

Monteverde

With Kelsy and Wakan in Montezuma

????

Viscious Tigers

San Fran with Gabe and Seth

Massive Spider in Balboa Park, San Diego, California

San Diego, Cali

Me and Meagan. We like to take pictures of ourselves (thanks Wakan)

Stay Away From San José

2006-10-07T10:42:00.000-07:00

The first day we arrived in San Jose we were confronted with two theft stories. One woman, an established travel journalist, was stripped of her laptop and all money bearing materials. Another man was the victim of a theft that struck seven travellers at a different hostel. But of course, that would never happen to us.

Never assume anything.

This morning I was brutally awaken by Meagan at the evil hour of 6 a.m. She politely (as she always does) informed me that our room had been broken into. I did not believe her with her calm demeanor; however, the three armed policemen outside the door made me think otherwise. In the room our precious belongings were carelessly strewn about. I searched but found nothing missing. Luckily, I had stowed all of my valuables in a locker.

The thief woke Meagan at 4:30 a.m. She immediately questioned his presence in our room. He calmly said, "Oh, sorry," and shoved our stuff back into her arms. Obviously he had more than the eye could see. She chased him down the stairs and demanded that ALL of our stuff be returned. He submitted and gave back her passport along with his own identification card (why? I don´t know). It turned out that he - Norel Rafael Sanchez Diaz - was a Colombian staying in the hostel. The front deskman locked the front gate and called the police before he could take flight.

When Meagan informed me that Norel was being held downstairs I could not resist.

"Where is the little f%$&/·$!"

I accosted him with a massive string of Spanish profanities. He was not prepared for my wrath.

Ravaging through all of his belongings, as he had mine, I found my flipflops but nothing else. When I asked him where he bought them he cleverly justified it with "look I have Hanes underwear and an Old Navy shirt. Why would I need to steal?¨Very intelligent response.

At this point, the only known missing items were two of Meagan's credit cards. I persistently demanded that they be returned. He "had no idea what I was talking about."

As I became more heated he became more aggressive. At one point, he yelled two inches from my face; I grabbed his jaw and shoved him aside.

The best part: The entire time the Costarican cops watched and gave me free reign. I asked if I could have just one punch, and the cop replied with a smile, "He´s in there and I´m not watching." I chose the more ladylike route and decided against it. I partially regret that.

To make the episode all the more entertaining the police called us down to the station. The San Jose police station looks just as I imagine it did 100 years ago: One counter, a hand drawn map dissecting the districts of the city, a few "safety posters" and four jolly old men sitting around. The head-honcho sat behind the counter noting everything by hand in an academic binder. Very professional.

To top-off my impression of Costarican cops, they asked us what kind of beer and rum we like and invited us for an evening brew. The man who had accompanied Meagan at the hostel gave her his cell phone number. Did I say very professional?

Then, they shuffled us into the large round-um-up van and drove us home. In the end, it was an entertaining experience to say the least. Nothing was actually stolen - the two missing credit cards were located in the bathroom - and our Colombian friend, Norel, was sent to Immigration where he will be dealt with by means of deportation. Now, I can only hope we do not run into him in Colombia.

Having a laugh in the back of the police van.

Meagan's Number 1 Fan, Officer Jose

read Meagan´s account at www.meagancaitlin.blogspot.com. She was the saviour who stopped the madman. I was just the raging female who came in for the final blow.

Note to all: Stay away from San Jose.

Photos Costa Rica Part 2

2006-10-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

View from Zach's front door in the outskirts of Monteverde, Costa Rica.

Kelsy and I on a jungle trek to San Luis Waterfall.

Plantains

Blue Morpho Butterfly
Wing span of atleast 4 inches, the back of the butterfly was marine blue.

San Luis Waterfall

Everything Verdante

2006-10-02T19:04:00.000-07:00

I knew I had aclimated to the local mentality when I fell asleep standing on a two hour bus ride. The journey from Jaco to Puntarenas, en route to Monteverde, was tedious. The hour or so of sleep the night before was pointless; I should have stayed awake. However, winding through the verdante monte at sundown made the trip well worth the drowsy eyes.

We (Meagan, Kelsy and I) arrived in Monteverde and were immediately confronted by four more Eugenians. I was expecting one, Zach, but not the other three, whom I had also met previously in Eugene. Once again, I found myself a member of the Eugene-Costa Rica transplant group.

A few highlights from the Monte: (in no particular order)

Relaxing with friends, staying at Zach's humble pink palace, cooking fajitas, watching college football highlights, drinking Clos (not quite wine, but Clos)
SkyTrek (see photos). Flying across the cloud forest on a series of 11 ziplines. Awesome.
Driving Zach's 4X4 Montero through the highland terrain, disregarding all previous knowledge of road rules.
Hiking to San Luis waterfall after completely blowing the battery in the Montero and trading it for Zach's other 4-wheel-drive.
Street meat, need I say more.
Spening one last night with Kelsy before she headed back to the U.S.
Reaffirmation that my packing skills are superior. Everyone thus far has been astonished by my few possessions. My bag, about 31 litres, is the size of a large school backpack. Granted, it does help to be a small female with small, compact clothing.

Map of Costa Rica

2006-10-02T18:50:00.000-07:00

Places Visited/Lugares Visitados:

San Jose
Montezuma
Puntarenas
Jaco
Monteverde
La Fortuna/Arenal
San Jose
Cahuita
Puerto Viejo

Photos Costa Rica Part 1

2006-10-01T23:09:00.000-07:00

Looking down at the ocean on the way to San Jose, Costa Rica.

With Daniel and Jacobo in Montezuma.

With my ladies in Montezuma. Kelsy, Meagan and Wakan.

Waterfall found only after trekking for 2+ hours in the sand. On the walk we encountered the moon, the language of Clingon and many other fantastic things. Cliff jumping not recommended.

Kelsy and Wakan

La Llegada Esperada

2006-10-01T16:43:00.000-07:00

La pura vida, as they say here in Costa Rica is just as it sounds: " the pure life." Meagan and I arrived in San Jose on the 23rd of September and we have already outdone ourselves. After a night in a deluxe hostel we headed to Montezuma, where our two friends awaited. Madness ensued. Our first night with Kelsy and Wakan - also slightly insane - was a debaucherous night of laughing, making amigos with locals and announcing our arrival to the entire town. If they didn't meet us wondering around, they definitely heard us.

My female posse and I were accompanied the following day by two of Wakan's friends from Peace Corps Panama. Daniel and Jacobo work in the Agricultural sector of Troupe 55. They were an entertaining addition to our already overwhelming group of gringos.

..... ..... .....

A 30-minute walk north brought us to our first Costarican waterfall. The fresh 65 degree water was a relief after hours in the salty Pacific. Scaling the mountain behind, root-by-root, in pursuit of another cascada, we met our first Costarican monkeys. Now we were in the tropics - cascadas, monos and mar.

At the second waterfall the cliff jumping began. We only jumped from about 35/40 feet. However, the locals entertained us with thai chi on tree branches, swan dives into the waterfall, and ludicrous jumps down the lower waterfall (which has a clearly placed sign warning of possible death by jumping).

..... ..... .....

On our way to the store one night, Daniel nearly stomped on a sea turtle in the midst of her egg laying ritual. Unfortunately, her arduous work was thwarted by a gang of local teenage boys who immediately dug up all her eggs as she slowly wobbled back to sea. I argued with them to no avail.

..... ..... .....

On our last night in town the local futbol team was playing. Although the team lost the festivities were fun. Throughout the game I touched the ball three times as it rolled (or jetted) out of bounds. Although my superior skillz had already been demonstrated, I still felt the need to exude some gringa goalkick action post whistle. (The Imperial and Ron Cortez also motivated me to be unnecessarily "loud American".) As I prepared to shoot, I psychologically tricked the goalie. I do admit he barely moved but I'd like to think that it was my brain power and not his lack of effort that allowed me to score. The crowd cheered in victory. (We all remember events as we see best fit.)

Overall, in Montezuma we encountered four other Eugenians. Eugene natives accounted for nine people in a town of a few thousand. Small world. In the Northwest, visiting Costa Rica is more of a right-of-passage than an exotic hideaway. Now, I can mark that one off my list.

SoCal

2006-09-18T01:56:00.000-07:00

Waking up at 7:20 a.m. is not ideal when your bus leaves at 7:45 a.m. and you have no idea where the terminal is located. However, when a desperate circumstance arose, the ability to delay time became second nature.

At 7:22 a.m., I blindly hurdled down the stairs - fully armed with clothing and baggage - while Meagan frantically dialed 411 to find out where we needed to be five minutes ago. Fortunately, my lovely hetero-life-partner, Mary, is a stealth driver with a knack for finding places in unknown territory. We were late, but so was the bus.

..... ..... ..... ..... .....

BUS #1

Riding the bus south through the central valley of California is a blatant reminder of how dependent the state is on latino labor. Between San Fransisco and San Diego, a large majority of the conversations amongst passengers and the driver were in Spanish.

The influx of hispanics throughout the United States is not very noticable in central and northern Oregon. I have seen an increase of Spanish-speaking communities in southern Oregon; however, it does not compare with California.

In San Diego, the social dichotomy is very well hidden. The less afluent communities are gently shoved to the outskirts of town. For example, when a homeless person is arrested they are taken to the southern San Diego prison as to make it more difficult for them to return to the downtown area.

I have never been surrounded by so much money. Beautiful city but there is something escondido.

Perfectly aligned palm trees border the beaches of San Diego, California.

The 4 Ms. Meagan, Mary, Marielle and Meredith. Saying goodbye in San Francisco, California.

Hanging out late-night in Balboa Park, San Diego with my should-be-brothers Mur, Doug and Andy.

Bienvenidos BAY!

2006-09-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

Bienvenidos Bay!!!!

Mejores Amigas.

Dog in heat. Something I never expected to experience.

The mustiest of all the Bean Bags. I love them for that.

The Sun Moves South

2006-09-15T13:06:00.000-07:00

Two weeks prior to departure, my horoscope in the Eugene Weekly placed me in an impenetrable bubble of luck. It so fittingly explained that life would continue to be unbelievably amazing. And it has been. Graduation, personal epiphanies, new friendships, old friendships, outrageous parties, moving out of my home of four years, highs, lows, overwhelming emotions, anticipation.

Now, as summer in the great Northwest ends my travel companion Meagan and I will chase the sun south. First stop San Francisco, followed by San Diego, Los Angeles and LAX. From there, we jump over a few countries and land in Costa Rica where we join the adventures of two fabulous females. Thinking about this inevitably epic encounter of diabolical forces is too much to digest as of yet. As if that were not enough to overwhelm the soul, Costa Rica is merely a launching point. After Costa Rica, we head south to Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and ultimately Buenos Aires, Argentina. Without doubt, we will end up in Brazil, Chile and Uruguay as well. It may sound outlandish to most but that’s my life.

It has been an ongoing motto of mine that unnecessary expectations can only lead to disappointment. Therefore, I have simplified my expectations to: discover, experience, expand, observe, be humble, share and enjoy.