After Semuc we headed to the colonial town of Antigua. As most guide books point out, Antigua is not a traditional Guatemalan town. With it's pristine cobblestone streets, old churches and Spanish-style architecture, the city is very European. The steam-shrouded volcanoes in the distance remind you that you're in Central America.
We were spending two nights in Antigua. We had no plans, really. Just explore. Relax. Most people visit the volcanoes but the weather wasn't that great and I was exhausted. I think the constant traveling was wearing me down, so I ended up sleeping almost an entire day.
A Canadian school teacher named Melanie who we had met in Semuc joined us in Antigua. She was really sweet and it was nice to have a new friend. She was meeting another girl there who would be traveling with her. What fun.
Unfortunately, poor Melanie had eaten rogue street fruit and had the dreaded Central America gut rot. She couldn't leave the toilet let alone pal around with us. We didn't see her for the rest of the trip and found out later that she went home a week early. Poor thing. Lesson learned. DO NOT eat street fruit. Stick to street meat and street cheese and you'll be fine!
So... Antigua... we lounged around... took pictures.... ate amazing homemade banana bread and Indian food!
After day three we headed to Lake Atitlan.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Semuc Champay, Guatemala
After spending three days relaxing and recovering from Mirador, we were moving on. This was the last time we'd see our friends Bjornar and Hege, which sucked. We had traveled with them off and on for our entire trip, and now we were on our own. We knew it wouldn't be the last time we would see them... we're thinking Norway 2012!
So... we were heading to Semuc Champay, touted as the most beautiful place in Guatemala. Semuc was about a 7-hour drive so we splurged on a private shuttle. The ride was very long and there was a mom, daughter and son who talked (complained) the entire ride. My headached. I wondered what was worse: this or being in a jam-packed school bus?
As usual, we hadn't booked a room. Neither had most of the people on the shuttle. Everyone was chattering about where to stay.. How much did places cost? Were they safe? It was stressing me out! We asked our driver to drop us off at a hostel/lodge where we thought might have rooms. He told us that there was no way they would have availability. Whatever. We asked him to drop us off... along came the annoying family and two other people.
Of course the place had tons of space. It was huge. Bigger than anywhere we'd stayed during the rest of our trip. It was a series of 50 cabins (some were dorm rooms) located on a river. There was a massive dining hall where guests ate cafeteria style. We weren't feeling it here. What really turned me off was the burning hillsides in the area. The sky was thick with smoke because of the clear cutting burning being done. It was depressing and ugly.
The draw of Semuc Champay is a series of small pools located under a limestone bridge. Pretty spectacular and pretty popular.
We scheduled a tour for the morning after we arrived. Originally there were only four people signed up, but by the time we left there were 18. In addition to visiting the pools the tour included a trip to a cave system where we would swim, wade, jump off cliffs and climb. Sounded cool to me.
But here's the problem: Exploring a cave system with a group of four people is an adventure. Exploring these caves with not only your group of 18 but two additional groups with 30 more people is claustrophobic and frustrating.
Minus the hords of people, the caves were incredible. They looked fake. We took turns jumping off small cliffs and lighting candles to guide our way. After an hour in the caves we headed to the pools.
The water was insanely clear. Even pictures can do the pools justice. But again, so many people. Just so many people.
So that was it for Sumuc. Beautiful pools. Crowded cabins. Burning mountainsides. Time to move on.
Next stop: Antigua
So... we were heading to Semuc Champay, touted as the most beautiful place in Guatemala. Semuc was about a 7-hour drive so we splurged on a private shuttle. The ride was very long and there was a mom, daughter and son who talked (complained) the entire ride. My headached. I wondered what was worse: this or being in a jam-packed school bus?
As usual, we hadn't booked a room. Neither had most of the people on the shuttle. Everyone was chattering about where to stay.. How much did places cost? Were they safe? It was stressing me out! We asked our driver to drop us off at a hostel/lodge where we thought might have rooms. He told us that there was no way they would have availability. Whatever. We asked him to drop us off... along came the annoying family and two other people.
Of course the place had tons of space. It was huge. Bigger than anywhere we'd stayed during the rest of our trip. It was a series of 50 cabins (some were dorm rooms) located on a river. There was a massive dining hall where guests ate cafeteria style. We weren't feeling it here. What really turned me off was the burning hillsides in the area. The sky was thick with smoke because of the clear cutting burning being done. It was depressing and ugly.
The draw of Semuc Champay is a series of small pools located under a limestone bridge. Pretty spectacular and pretty popular.
We scheduled a tour for the morning after we arrived. Originally there were only four people signed up, but by the time we left there were 18. In addition to visiting the pools the tour included a trip to a cave system where we would swim, wade, jump off cliffs and climb. Sounded cool to me.
But here's the problem: Exploring a cave system with a group of four people is an adventure. Exploring these caves with not only your group of 18 but two additional groups with 30 more people is claustrophobic and frustrating.
Minus the hords of people, the caves were incredible. They looked fake. We took turns jumping off small cliffs and lighting candles to guide our way. After an hour in the caves we headed to the pools.
The water was insanely clear. Even pictures can do the pools justice. But again, so many people. Just so many people.
So that was it for Sumuc. Beautiful pools. Crowded cabins. Burning mountainsides. Time to move on.
Next stop: Antigua
Sunday, May 29, 2011
El Mirador III
Grarg....need coffee...and their are no coffee shops open until 9 pm on Sundays in Oaxaca, Mex. Yes we are many days removed from the events of this blog, and my memory could be spotty without sweet coffee. Apologies to the reader.
Mirador Part III. Day 5 was described as an eco-trek. We were to see no ruins that day with the exception of the several ransacked grave mounds and ancient Mayan food storage holes that dotted our trail. The plan was to hike 9 hours or so to La Florida, providing only a 2 hour hike out to Carmalita and back to civilation on Day 6. Joy, Hege, Bjornar and I all took turns riding Yelmer the mule to break up the walking - muleback is the only way to travel in the rainforest.
Four events of note on the eco-trek -
1. Wild spider monkeys are cute but pissed off when you get too close to their tree. The trail we walk, occaisionally, will pass very close to said tree, and the males (young and old) shake branches, throw bark and hiss. The four of us were observing this behavior when one of the monkies threw a large branch at us. We had to dodge the thing or else be brained. We were outraged. But our mule took a sniff of the branch leaves, realized they were the sweet, sweet ramon tree and devoured the entire projectile. Probably not going to see that again.
2. Many in our group of 12 had blisters - big, open blisters - that were only getting worse with shoes. A couple folks decided to put on flip flops and walk the rest of the way in those. Comfortable, yes. Practical, no. Remember the bullet ants and poisonous snakes? Foot protection is good in the rainforest. The four of us were dawdling behind the rest of our posse when were heard a commotion up front. A girl, in flip flops, just had a "cute, baby snake" crawl over her foot, across the path and into a small bush. Our guide rushes over and explains that its a baby Ferdilanz, or Barba Amarilla. He further explains that should one get bit by a baby Ferdilanz that chances of survival are nill, even with a shot of antivenom that we were carrying. The babies dont know NOT to release all their venom on just one bite, they havent learned to regulate the venom flow yet, so all of their stores are emptied into the mouse, the small bird or the bare foot. Yet, no one wearing thongs changed into shoes. Interesting.
3. One guy in our crew, plagued with blisters and wearing flip flops, woke from a short rest after lunch to find a wasp halfway buried INTO his heel aparently using his blister as a doorway to the rest of his foot. He had to pull it out by hand, it bled some and was just plain weird.
4. So often is the case where a passion for coffee also accomanpanies a passion for cigarettes. Our lead guide, Raul,while bringing enough stores of coffee for the 6-day trek, did not bring enough smokes. His nicotine levels were dangerously low and he began searching the forest floor for butts. No success. Bjornar was walking just behind Raul and his mule (Raul always rode a mule due to a leg injury sustained in a car accident) when Raul, dazed, weary and short on nicotine, began to fall sideways off the saddle and was barely clinging to a tree, halfway on and halfway off his animal. Bjornar had to race up from behind, cradle small Raul in his arms and set him gently to the ground. We fixed his saddle, lifted him atop his steed and got to walking, while he mummbled something like "thank you, and do you have a cigarette?"
Not much to do at camp that night, save for hunting, finding and removing the hundreds of ticks that started to show up on all parts of the body. Ticks are small, almost too small to see, until they find purchase and start sucking your blood juice. Then they show up easy with cursory inspection. We were inspecting for and picking off ticks for the following two days AFTER we returned to our hotel in Flores. I picked a tick off Joys head at the ruins ofTikal 2 days, 4 showers and 6 lakeswims after our Mirador hike. Fun.
Not a soul was in their tent past 4:30 am on Day 6. We wanted out of the rainforest. We made it to Carmelita in record time, where Rauls friends had stocked a cooler full of 48, ice cold beers, in celebration of our accomplishment. Drinking beers before 9 am, after 6 days in the jungle was the best homecoming we could have imagined. That and our hotel, hotel shower and cool, freshwater lake back in Flores where Joy, Hege, Bjornar and I rested, ate and swam all the day long the next 3 days.
Thanks, Mirador.
US
Mirador Part III. Day 5 was described as an eco-trek. We were to see no ruins that day with the exception of the several ransacked grave mounds and ancient Mayan food storage holes that dotted our trail. The plan was to hike 9 hours or so to La Florida, providing only a 2 hour hike out to Carmalita and back to civilation on Day 6. Joy, Hege, Bjornar and I all took turns riding Yelmer the mule to break up the walking - muleback is the only way to travel in the rainforest.
Four events of note on the eco-trek -
1. Wild spider monkeys are cute but pissed off when you get too close to their tree. The trail we walk, occaisionally, will pass very close to said tree, and the males (young and old) shake branches, throw bark and hiss. The four of us were observing this behavior when one of the monkies threw a large branch at us. We had to dodge the thing or else be brained. We were outraged. But our mule took a sniff of the branch leaves, realized they were the sweet, sweet ramon tree and devoured the entire projectile. Probably not going to see that again.
2. Many in our group of 12 had blisters - big, open blisters - that were only getting worse with shoes. A couple folks decided to put on flip flops and walk the rest of the way in those. Comfortable, yes. Practical, no. Remember the bullet ants and poisonous snakes? Foot protection is good in the rainforest. The four of us were dawdling behind the rest of our posse when were heard a commotion up front. A girl, in flip flops, just had a "cute, baby snake" crawl over her foot, across the path and into a small bush. Our guide rushes over and explains that its a baby Ferdilanz, or Barba Amarilla. He further explains that should one get bit by a baby Ferdilanz that chances of survival are nill, even with a shot of antivenom that we were carrying. The babies dont know NOT to release all their venom on just one bite, they havent learned to regulate the venom flow yet, so all of their stores are emptied into the mouse, the small bird or the bare foot. Yet, no one wearing thongs changed into shoes. Interesting.
3. One guy in our crew, plagued with blisters and wearing flip flops, woke from a short rest after lunch to find a wasp halfway buried INTO his heel aparently using his blister as a doorway to the rest of his foot. He had to pull it out by hand, it bled some and was just plain weird.
4. So often is the case where a passion for coffee also accomanpanies a passion for cigarettes. Our lead guide, Raul,while bringing enough stores of coffee for the 6-day trek, did not bring enough smokes. His nicotine levels were dangerously low and he began searching the forest floor for butts. No success. Bjornar was walking just behind Raul and his mule (Raul always rode a mule due to a leg injury sustained in a car accident) when Raul, dazed, weary and short on nicotine, began to fall sideways off the saddle and was barely clinging to a tree, halfway on and halfway off his animal. Bjornar had to race up from behind, cradle small Raul in his arms and set him gently to the ground. We fixed his saddle, lifted him atop his steed and got to walking, while he mummbled something like "thank you, and do you have a cigarette?"
Not much to do at camp that night, save for hunting, finding and removing the hundreds of ticks that started to show up on all parts of the body. Ticks are small, almost too small to see, until they find purchase and start sucking your blood juice. Then they show up easy with cursory inspection. We were inspecting for and picking off ticks for the following two days AFTER we returned to our hotel in Flores. I picked a tick off Joys head at the ruins ofTikal 2 days, 4 showers and 6 lakeswims after our Mirador hike. Fun.
Not a soul was in their tent past 4:30 am on Day 6. We wanted out of the rainforest. We made it to Carmelita in record time, where Rauls friends had stocked a cooler full of 48, ice cold beers, in celebration of our accomplishment. Drinking beers before 9 am, after 6 days in the jungle was the best homecoming we could have imagined. That and our hotel, hotel shower and cool, freshwater lake back in Flores where Joy, Hege, Bjornar and I rested, ate and swam all the day long the next 3 days.
Thanks, Mirador.
US
Thursday, May 19, 2011
El Mirador Part II
Ahem...El Mirador Part II...after a day of walking through the ruins of El Mirador (remember to watch the Nat Geo Special, these ruins are old, they´re so old) we hit camp and heard the news. We were running dangerously low on COFFEE. Walk 135km...sure, sleep on the ground with blankets that smell of mule piss...ok, tip toe around camp at night careful not to step on one of the 3 very poisonous snakes in the jungle...not a problem, zip the tent tight to not allow one or many of the 1000s of flying bugs into the sleeping quarters...done, no meat for 5 days...simple, BUT run out of coffee...not acceptable. After confronting our guide, Raul, he explained that he too has but one passion in life, coffee, and produced two huge bags of percolated coffee. I´d never seen this stuff before, but its a step down from instant but more than 3 days walk and a 2.5 hour car ride from the nearest cafe con leche and no one was complaining. Crisis averted.
We could now turn our attention to Day 4 and our hike to a set of ruins called Nakbe, where we would have lunch, and then walk another 2 hours into the afternoon to an old Chiclero campground. (The Chicleros were the badasses back in the mid and late 1800s that were milking huge trees for their sap which was then sold for...chewing gum. They would hack at the tree bark with their machetes in an X-shape patern and let the samp run into jars.). In fact, it was the Chicleros who led archeologists like, Dick Hansen, to many of the Mayan ruins of the Peten regions. They knew of these buried sites whereabouts long before the professors, universities and archeological teams.
Nakbe was a smaller (in terms of height and bredth) set of ruins, but up on top of its highest pyramid we could see pyramids of Mirador and Tintal in the distance. We were standing atop their highest pyramids days before looking at Nakbe, and now we were able to see just how far we´d come. Awesome sight and a unique accomplishment that not many get to experience.
After feasting like vultures on bean & cheese, jelly and sardine sandwiches...sounds good, right...we hiked to the Chiclero campground. Upon arrival, both Alfonso (assistant) and Alfredo (cook) set up the tents & started on dinner, Angel´(mule handler) took our buddy Yelmer and his friends for their ramon leaves and swamp water and we milled around the coffee pot (literal pot on campfire) waiting for the water to boil. This was the routine, and we all settled down in our sweat & stink from that day´s hike. However, on Day 4, we were treated to the greatest of jungle expedition surprises...a 20-minute deluge of rain. We stripped off the clothes, danced, whooped, used the tarp over the tents to create mini waterfalls and someone broke out the soap and shampoo. Raul, Alfonso and Alfredo watched from under the tent tarp, dry, no doubt, thinking to themselves that not a one of has what it takes to be in the bush for any length of time. No doubt, they worried that one of us would breakdown, or get sick, or get bit by a snake, or bit by a bullet ant, or cry, or whatever and watching us so excited by water and soap and wet clothes, cemented that notion for the rustic Guatemalans.
Curious things happen with insect life after a rainstorm in the rainforest. We got a glimpse in Costa Rica when the insects got all crazy after a couple days of down pour. They come from all over...trees, sky, ground, bushes. The buglife after our jungle rainshower and all through the night was intensified by a factor of, I don´t know, a bizillion! We are talking a carpet of bugs of all types around the campfire and around the tents. There were so many it was hysterical, in a good way. You couldn´t avoid, we became like pieces of furniture...16 bug ottomans, eating dinner and scratching.
Rainwater fresh & dusted of creepy crawlers, everyone slept soundly that night, EXCEPT for yours truly. While Joy and the rest of the knuckleheads all dreamt of sugarplums and shit, I was jammed between a one tree root in my hip and one tree root on my neck...thanks, Alfonso. No worries, we were always up at 430 anyway, and I counted the night hours till gloaming.
Day 5 started awkwardly. In trying to squeeze myself out of our kindergartner-size tent, sliding my feet perfectly into flip flops so as not to touch the slightly damp ground, I fell completely into our slumbering, Norwegian friends´tent and, thereby, onto our slumbering Norwegian friends. Nice alarm clock - the gangly, bearded-man smash.
Another computer session comes to a close...El Mirador Part III coming soon.
Hasta la Pasta,
CP
We could now turn our attention to Day 4 and our hike to a set of ruins called Nakbe, where we would have lunch, and then walk another 2 hours into the afternoon to an old Chiclero campground. (The Chicleros were the badasses back in the mid and late 1800s that were milking huge trees for their sap which was then sold for...chewing gum. They would hack at the tree bark with their machetes in an X-shape patern and let the samp run into jars.). In fact, it was the Chicleros who led archeologists like, Dick Hansen, to many of the Mayan ruins of the Peten regions. They knew of these buried sites whereabouts long before the professors, universities and archeological teams.
Nakbe was a smaller (in terms of height and bredth) set of ruins, but up on top of its highest pyramid we could see pyramids of Mirador and Tintal in the distance. We were standing atop their highest pyramids days before looking at Nakbe, and now we were able to see just how far we´d come. Awesome sight and a unique accomplishment that not many get to experience.
After feasting like vultures on bean & cheese, jelly and sardine sandwiches...sounds good, right...we hiked to the Chiclero campground. Upon arrival, both Alfonso (assistant) and Alfredo (cook) set up the tents & started on dinner, Angel´(mule handler) took our buddy Yelmer and his friends for their ramon leaves and swamp water and we milled around the coffee pot (literal pot on campfire) waiting for the water to boil. This was the routine, and we all settled down in our sweat & stink from that day´s hike. However, on Day 4, we were treated to the greatest of jungle expedition surprises...a 20-minute deluge of rain. We stripped off the clothes, danced, whooped, used the tarp over the tents to create mini waterfalls and someone broke out the soap and shampoo. Raul, Alfonso and Alfredo watched from under the tent tarp, dry, no doubt, thinking to themselves that not a one of has what it takes to be in the bush for any length of time. No doubt, they worried that one of us would breakdown, or get sick, or get bit by a snake, or bit by a bullet ant, or cry, or whatever and watching us so excited by water and soap and wet clothes, cemented that notion for the rustic Guatemalans.
Curious things happen with insect life after a rainstorm in the rainforest. We got a glimpse in Costa Rica when the insects got all crazy after a couple days of down pour. They come from all over...trees, sky, ground, bushes. The buglife after our jungle rainshower and all through the night was intensified by a factor of, I don´t know, a bizillion! We are talking a carpet of bugs of all types around the campfire and around the tents. There were so many it was hysterical, in a good way. You couldn´t avoid, we became like pieces of furniture...16 bug ottomans, eating dinner and scratching.
Rainwater fresh & dusted of creepy crawlers, everyone slept soundly that night, EXCEPT for yours truly. While Joy and the rest of the knuckleheads all dreamt of sugarplums and shit, I was jammed between a one tree root in my hip and one tree root on my neck...thanks, Alfonso. No worries, we were always up at 430 anyway, and I counted the night hours till gloaming.
Day 5 started awkwardly. In trying to squeeze myself out of our kindergartner-size tent, sliding my feet perfectly into flip flops so as not to touch the slightly damp ground, I fell completely into our slumbering, Norwegian friends´tent and, thereby, onto our slumbering Norwegian friends. Nice alarm clock - the gangly, bearded-man smash.
Another computer session comes to a close...El Mirador Part III coming soon.
Hasta la Pasta,
CP
Saturday, May 14, 2011
El Mirador Part 1
Hola Kiddies,
It has been too long since our last blog post. My gosh, we've been through two countries and are heading into Mexico next week marking the last country we visit until returning stateside. WOW. Joy said it best the other day "I'm not ready for our trip to end!" Couldn't agree more.
However, it's not done yet, and we still have more than 30 days left on the road. Whoo hoo!
Hands down, one of the coolest experiences we've had yet on this trip was our hike to El Mirador in the northern rainforest of the Peten territory of Guatemala to a colassal grouping of ancient mayan ruins. Collectively, 4 or 5 ruin sites make up the Mirador basin and archelogists believe that this grouping of cities date back to more than 1000 BC, predating other Mayan ruin sites in Guatemala by 1200 years.
The logistics of our trek were pretty simple, 12 people, 1 guide, 1 cook, 1 assistant, 1 mule handler, 8 mules, 135 km, 5 nights and about 40 plus hours of hiking. It as when supplies (food, water) dwindled, blisters bled, ticks swarmed, alcohol and cigarettes ran out that elements tested our patience, our friendships, the trust in our guides and our marriage....just kidding about the marriage part.
Our first day out was painless, we hiked 6 hours to our first camp in Tintal, and OUR mule lugged a couple of our backpacks, extra water and alcohol sack. (A couple bottles of rum for us and a couple bottles for the guards at El Mirador.) Oh yes, that's right folks, Joy, Bjornar, Hege (norwegian buddies) and I purchased a mule for the 6 day trek. It was the best $20 we've spent on the whole trip. We named him Yelmar (norwegian name of Bjornar's dog), and he would prove to be the most inteligent animal (human or otherwise) upon arrival into Carmelita 6 days later. Tintal is a grouping of ruins about 30km south of El Mirador and marks the beginning of an ancient causeway or highway in between the two cities. Raul (our guide) explained that this causeway was one of the first highways of the world, and more than 3000 years ago would have been bleached white, with painted red sides, engraved with stone carvings and in some cases more than 40 meters wide. No small engineering task for a people without the wheel or beasts of burden to assist in its construction. We would be walking it again in our trek to El Mirador. Everybody was excited. We watched the sun set from the King's temple about 60 meters above the rainforest and ate a meal of homemade tortillas, fried chicken and cabage.
We woke up the next morning to catch the sunrise from the top of Tintal. The sunrise was goregeous and a welcome respite from the previous nights' "sleep." I was counting down the hours until 4:30 am when I could get out of "bed." Our tents had been set up on a concrete slab in the campsite, under shelter in case of rain, and every bone in our boddies felt bruised. Further our little ovens...err tents...were made for kindergartners, so even squeezing our two narrow bodies inside was tricky. And with a daytime tempature approaching 90 degrees the nighttime was still toasty. Joy and I now know exactly what it would be like to sleep on the street. Everyone took in good fun, and, in fact, our other camping mates (4 boys and 4 girls) had it slightly worse. Instead of 2 to a tent, they had 4 to a tent. Two of the other guys were 6 feet plus and slept with their heads out the tent flap only to rise with bugs and bug bites upon their foreheads.
Ready for an early start, we departed Tintal at 7 am. Hege, Bjornar, Joy and I said "good morning" to Yelmar and fed him a morning snack of fruits and scattered Ramon tree leaves. (his favorite) Raul explained we'd arrive at El Mirador at 3'30, but we all suspected that meant more like 4. Not a problem! The jungle was alive, and we all felt like we on the first expedition to an unexplored piece of the jungle with secrets of a lost civilation buried beneath. Walking the first highway of the Americas, we made good time to our second camp. There was also rumor of a bush shower available at the Mirador campsite for 10 quetzals (about $1 dollar), and after 2 days without water on the body in 90 degree heat that shower was enough to send most of us striding through the jungle at a steady clip.
The shower was amazing and as advertised, PLUS the guards were super psyched that we purchased a bottle of Queztalteca Rum, a biting, clear rum that many locals and expats enjoy to excess. We made camp and Raul got us "matresses" from the guards at Mirador for the second night. They were little more than pieces of foam from the storage barn of the main El Mirador campsite, but after the concrete we contemplated leaves, sticks and mule crap as other alternatives. The foam was great, the sunset from the Queen's temple at Mirador was a beautiful red, orange dripping down on the green jungle and the stars that night were as bright as I've ever seen. Showered and foamed we were ready for our day of exploration at Mirador.
The morning was cloudy, so we skipped the sunrise, but soon after waking and eating breakfast that sweaty orb broke through. No hiking today just a series of shortish walks to each of the Mirador excavation sites now under way. There is a great National Geographic special on El Mirador that I encourage everyone to watch. I'll hit some the highlights. The Danta Temple of El Mirador is said to be the largest pyramid in the world in terms of volume (bigger than Egypt, yes) and still stands at an impressive height of 74 meters. The main man in charge of the site is Richard "Dick" Hansen, lead consultant on Mad Mel's Apocolypto. He's been at the site since '78, excavation has been ongoing in earnest the past 7 years and only 4% of the site has been uncovered. Most still lies beneath a THICK growth of rainforest and no one knows what artistry, carvings, masks, etc. they will find as more temples are untucked from their forest blankets. The grand plaza between the Queen's Temple and King's Temple is also the largest in the world at more than 2km across. The forest bristles with life here as it makes up the largest swath of continuous rainforest in all of central america. Pressued on all sides by logging and farming, yes, but the area is still a huge sea of green with spider and howler monkeys, ocelots, jaguar, tapir, deer, snakes, lizards, aguti, coatamundi and much more all protected by environmental leaders in Guatemala and the States. From 200 plus feet, looking at the expanse of rainforest from the top of perhaps the largest pyramid designed by one of the great ancient civilations was mindblowing. We were archeologists for a day and loved every second of it.
Time is up on the computer...to be continued...as I'll detail our long walk back to civilation and the strain that a depeltion of goods and services have on those without a sturdy pack mule and their own supplies. haha.
Hasta Luego,
CP ^ JP
It has been too long since our last blog post. My gosh, we've been through two countries and are heading into Mexico next week marking the last country we visit until returning stateside. WOW. Joy said it best the other day "I'm not ready for our trip to end!" Couldn't agree more.
However, it's not done yet, and we still have more than 30 days left on the road. Whoo hoo!
Hands down, one of the coolest experiences we've had yet on this trip was our hike to El Mirador in the northern rainforest of the Peten territory of Guatemala to a colassal grouping of ancient mayan ruins. Collectively, 4 or 5 ruin sites make up the Mirador basin and archelogists believe that this grouping of cities date back to more than 1000 BC, predating other Mayan ruin sites in Guatemala by 1200 years.
The logistics of our trek were pretty simple, 12 people, 1 guide, 1 cook, 1 assistant, 1 mule handler, 8 mules, 135 km, 5 nights and about 40 plus hours of hiking. It as when supplies (food, water) dwindled, blisters bled, ticks swarmed, alcohol and cigarettes ran out that elements tested our patience, our friendships, the trust in our guides and our marriage....just kidding about the marriage part.
Our first day out was painless, we hiked 6 hours to our first camp in Tintal, and OUR mule lugged a couple of our backpacks, extra water and alcohol sack. (A couple bottles of rum for us and a couple bottles for the guards at El Mirador.) Oh yes, that's right folks, Joy, Bjornar, Hege (norwegian buddies) and I purchased a mule for the 6 day trek. It was the best $20 we've spent on the whole trip. We named him Yelmar (norwegian name of Bjornar's dog), and he would prove to be the most inteligent animal (human or otherwise) upon arrival into Carmelita 6 days later. Tintal is a grouping of ruins about 30km south of El Mirador and marks the beginning of an ancient causeway or highway in between the two cities. Raul (our guide) explained that this causeway was one of the first highways of the world, and more than 3000 years ago would have been bleached white, with painted red sides, engraved with stone carvings and in some cases more than 40 meters wide. No small engineering task for a people without the wheel or beasts of burden to assist in its construction. We would be walking it again in our trek to El Mirador. Everybody was excited. We watched the sun set from the King's temple about 60 meters above the rainforest and ate a meal of homemade tortillas, fried chicken and cabage.
We woke up the next morning to catch the sunrise from the top of Tintal. The sunrise was goregeous and a welcome respite from the previous nights' "sleep." I was counting down the hours until 4:30 am when I could get out of "bed." Our tents had been set up on a concrete slab in the campsite, under shelter in case of rain, and every bone in our boddies felt bruised. Further our little ovens...err tents...were made for kindergartners, so even squeezing our two narrow bodies inside was tricky. And with a daytime tempature approaching 90 degrees the nighttime was still toasty. Joy and I now know exactly what it would be like to sleep on the street. Everyone took in good fun, and, in fact, our other camping mates (4 boys and 4 girls) had it slightly worse. Instead of 2 to a tent, they had 4 to a tent. Two of the other guys were 6 feet plus and slept with their heads out the tent flap only to rise with bugs and bug bites upon their foreheads.
Ready for an early start, we departed Tintal at 7 am. Hege, Bjornar, Joy and I said "good morning" to Yelmar and fed him a morning snack of fruits and scattered Ramon tree leaves. (his favorite) Raul explained we'd arrive at El Mirador at 3'30, but we all suspected that meant more like 4. Not a problem! The jungle was alive, and we all felt like we on the first expedition to an unexplored piece of the jungle with secrets of a lost civilation buried beneath. Walking the first highway of the Americas, we made good time to our second camp. There was also rumor of a bush shower available at the Mirador campsite for 10 quetzals (about $1 dollar), and after 2 days without water on the body in 90 degree heat that shower was enough to send most of us striding through the jungle at a steady clip.
The shower was amazing and as advertised, PLUS the guards were super psyched that we purchased a bottle of Queztalteca Rum, a biting, clear rum that many locals and expats enjoy to excess. We made camp and Raul got us "matresses" from the guards at Mirador for the second night. They were little more than pieces of foam from the storage barn of the main El Mirador campsite, but after the concrete we contemplated leaves, sticks and mule crap as other alternatives. The foam was great, the sunset from the Queen's temple at Mirador was a beautiful red, orange dripping down on the green jungle and the stars that night were as bright as I've ever seen. Showered and foamed we were ready for our day of exploration at Mirador.
The morning was cloudy, so we skipped the sunrise, but soon after waking and eating breakfast that sweaty orb broke through. No hiking today just a series of shortish walks to each of the Mirador excavation sites now under way. There is a great National Geographic special on El Mirador that I encourage everyone to watch. I'll hit some the highlights. The Danta Temple of El Mirador is said to be the largest pyramid in the world in terms of volume (bigger than Egypt, yes) and still stands at an impressive height of 74 meters. The main man in charge of the site is Richard "Dick" Hansen, lead consultant on Mad Mel's Apocolypto. He's been at the site since '78, excavation has been ongoing in earnest the past 7 years and only 4% of the site has been uncovered. Most still lies beneath a THICK growth of rainforest and no one knows what artistry, carvings, masks, etc. they will find as more temples are untucked from their forest blankets. The grand plaza between the Queen's Temple and King's Temple is also the largest in the world at more than 2km across. The forest bristles with life here as it makes up the largest swath of continuous rainforest in all of central america. Pressued on all sides by logging and farming, yes, but the area is still a huge sea of green with spider and howler monkeys, ocelots, jaguar, tapir, deer, snakes, lizards, aguti, coatamundi and much more all protected by environmental leaders in Guatemala and the States. From 200 plus feet, looking at the expanse of rainforest from the top of perhaps the largest pyramid designed by one of the great ancient civilations was mindblowing. We were archeologists for a day and loved every second of it.
Time is up on the computer...to be continued...as I'll detail our long walk back to civilation and the strain that a depeltion of goods and services have on those without a sturdy pack mule and their own supplies. haha.
Hasta Luego,
CP ^ JP
Friday, May 13, 2011
Livingston, Guatemala and the Rio Dulce
Poor Chris. He woke up with a horrible cold the morning we were leaving for Guatemala. He had a sinus headache, a sore throat, and a fever. Boooo. Not a fun way to travel. We headed out early in the a.m. to start our typical bus hopping but this time we had to add in a boat, the only way to access Livington, which is located at the mouth of the Rio Dulce river. The Caribbean side of Guatemala, which is much different, and not as visited as the rest of the country. The majority of the people are Garifuna, descendants of people from West Africa.
We initially had planned on skipping Livingston and heading directly to a cabin in the Rio Dulce. We decided to stay a night. We were excited to get in some more Caribbean beach time and to experience the Garifuna culture.
I loved the boat ride. Chris did not. The boat slapping down on the water each time it went over a wave did not do much for his aching head. I felt terrible. We had no idea where to stay once we go to the town. We had generally had good luck finding a place on our own.
When we got to the dock we were approached by a couple of backpackers who had fliers for a hostel in the area. Looked nice enough: wifi, book exchange, private cabins. We decided to walk around the town on our own first and then if we couldn't find a place, we'd head to the hostel.
The minute we started walking into town we got a very bad vibe. It was broad daylight but the place felt dangerous. Stall upon stall of cheesy tourist crap like sea shell statues and Tee shirt moo moos (no shit) filled the streets and multiple sketchy characters asked us if we wanted to buy drugs. One drunk local guy in particular took interest in us. He started asking us where we were from and what we were doing. I ignored him. He was up to no good. Poor Chris in his sick and altered state, started chatting with the dude. Next thing we know the guy is following us, and then pretending to lead us to the hostel where we had decided to go, because we couldn't find any other options.
We were mortified that this guy was pretending to be our friend. We got to the hostel and he walks into the common area yelling and announcing he had new guests. The owner came out and asked if he could help us. The first thing he said we should do was lose our drunk buddy. NO problem. We told him we wanted a clean quiet place to stay. He told us this was not the place to find either of those things! At least he was honest.
He told us to run away while drunkenstein was bothering some other people. We grabbed our packs and fled. We still had no place to stay.
We were greeted by a drunk man passed out on a sofa in the "lobby" at the next "hotel." His young son went and grabbed his mom to show us the horribly dingy room, for which she wanted to charge us $30. HA!
Finally, we found a half-way decent place with a big clean room where Chris could crash and sweat out his fever. This place was interesting. It looked like a guest house for pirates back in the 1700s. Also, there were no other guests. Kinda creepy. The girl at the front desk gave us a key to our room, and a key to the front door of the hotel and then she left. Weird. We had the ENTIRE place to ourselves.
Oh, by the way, there are no beaches in Livingston. You have to catch an expensive boat to get to the nearest beach, and the place is a port town, which means hoards of people on cruises stop in for an afternoon excursion, thus the cheesy knick knacks, ridiculously expensive food, and sketchy looking characters looking to rob unsuspecting tourists. Honestly, this was the first place on our entire trip that we did not like at all.
The kicker? At dinner, where Chris had watery flavorless chicken curry and I had slimy shrimp, another drunk local approached us and tried to sit down at our table. We ignored him. Then , angrily, he said something to us in a strange language. It sounded like a fricking curse to us! Great. We beelined back to our hotel where Chris sweat out his illness and I laid in bed waiting for the morning so we could leave.
The next day, our luck started to turn around. We wanted to leave Livingston as soon as possible and decided to head to the docks to see if we could find the boat that would take us to our hostel on the river. As we approached the dock, we saw a small skiff with "Finca Tatin" printed on the side. The guy was just shoving off, so we yelled to get him to stop. He waved us on and like that we were leaving this weird and terrifying town. First we had to make one stop. We approached a smaller dock away from the main part of town. Waiting eagerly for our boat was no other than ... the evil curse man! He was getting on our boat. Oh man, Chris and I thought were going to get stabbed or tossed over the side of the boat. We avoided eye contact, but even in his drunken stupor, he recognized us! But he wasn't angry he just gave a chuckle and sat back. What were the chances?! Fortunately, he was just going to the hovel where he lived on a little island a few minutes away.
What a surreal experience. We made it to Finca Tatin on the Rio Dulce without further incident. In fact, the ride was spectacular.
Finca Tatin is a series of cabins attached to a main lodge and dining hall. The Finca sits directly on the green peaceful waters of the Rio Dulce and behind lies lush green forest.
We rented a private cabin with a deck that overlooked the water. We put on our suits, grabbed a couple beers and headed to the dock for some rope swinging and tube sitting. I dreamt of places like this when I was a kid. The river was calm, clean, warm, and most importantly, devoid of any scary critters.
We spent the next three days swimming, tubing, and jumping off a rope swing. I never really over came my fear of the swing. I was terrified of slipping on to the deck, or smashing my face (the latter proved to be true. luckily I suffered no permanent injuries). Chris couldn't get enough of swinging from the ten-foot life guard tower into the water below. Until he lost his wedding band. He had put on sunscreen right before he grabbed onto the rope, and when he jumped, his ring slid right off. He attempted to search the deep murky water for the ring, but that was futile.
What can you do? We were really sad, but we decided that people in the community would be searching for that ring for years. Perhaps a legend about the mysterious ring would born.
Rio Dulce, was as I said earlier, a fantasy land. In addition to playing in the river, we swam in an ancient Mayan cave and snuck up on bats living in a cavern with a giant waterfall careening into a pool below; and we had the hostel jungle dog lead us on a hike through the thicket forest to a slot canyon teaming with red bromeliads and fluorescent green moss.
We headed out on our third day. We were going to Flores, Guatemala where we were meeting our Norwegian pals and organizing an expedition to the hidden El Mirador Ruins!
I'll let Chris get onto that. One last thing... the bus ride to Flores was the worst of our entire trip. I did not know it was possible to fit that many people in a bus. The bus was made for about 75 people yet around 150 were crammed on. A man literally used a stick to jam people in. Chris and I were standing on one foot for most of the ride. Chris had his arm pit over a tiny old woman, and was unbenounced to him, sweating profusely on her. I was close to having a panic attack. I hate crowds. When two people next to us got off the bus and left an empty seat, I jumped on it. Literally. After that I refused to ever get on a bus that crowded again. EVER. (I bet I will again, but I hope not for a long time!).
We initially had planned on skipping Livingston and heading directly to a cabin in the Rio Dulce. We decided to stay a night. We were excited to get in some more Caribbean beach time and to experience the Garifuna culture.
I loved the boat ride. Chris did not. The boat slapping down on the water each time it went over a wave did not do much for his aching head. I felt terrible. We had no idea where to stay once we go to the town. We had generally had good luck finding a place on our own.
When we got to the dock we were approached by a couple of backpackers who had fliers for a hostel in the area. Looked nice enough: wifi, book exchange, private cabins. We decided to walk around the town on our own first and then if we couldn't find a place, we'd head to the hostel.
The minute we started walking into town we got a very bad vibe. It was broad daylight but the place felt dangerous. Stall upon stall of cheesy tourist crap like sea shell statues and Tee shirt moo moos (no shit) filled the streets and multiple sketchy characters asked us if we wanted to buy drugs. One drunk local guy in particular took interest in us. He started asking us where we were from and what we were doing. I ignored him. He was up to no good. Poor Chris in his sick and altered state, started chatting with the dude. Next thing we know the guy is following us, and then pretending to lead us to the hostel where we had decided to go, because we couldn't find any other options.
We were mortified that this guy was pretending to be our friend. We got to the hostel and he walks into the common area yelling and announcing he had new guests. The owner came out and asked if he could help us. The first thing he said we should do was lose our drunk buddy. NO problem. We told him we wanted a clean quiet place to stay. He told us this was not the place to find either of those things! At least he was honest.
He told us to run away while drunkenstein was bothering some other people. We grabbed our packs and fled. We still had no place to stay.
We were greeted by a drunk man passed out on a sofa in the "lobby" at the next "hotel." His young son went and grabbed his mom to show us the horribly dingy room, for which she wanted to charge us $30. HA!
Finally, we found a half-way decent place with a big clean room where Chris could crash and sweat out his fever. This place was interesting. It looked like a guest house for pirates back in the 1700s. Also, there were no other guests. Kinda creepy. The girl at the front desk gave us a key to our room, and a key to the front door of the hotel and then she left. Weird. We had the ENTIRE place to ourselves.
Oh, by the way, there are no beaches in Livingston. You have to catch an expensive boat to get to the nearest beach, and the place is a port town, which means hoards of people on cruises stop in for an afternoon excursion, thus the cheesy knick knacks, ridiculously expensive food, and sketchy looking characters looking to rob unsuspecting tourists. Honestly, this was the first place on our entire trip that we did not like at all.
The kicker? At dinner, where Chris had watery flavorless chicken curry and I had slimy shrimp, another drunk local approached us and tried to sit down at our table. We ignored him. Then , angrily, he said something to us in a strange language. It sounded like a fricking curse to us! Great. We beelined back to our hotel where Chris sweat out his illness and I laid in bed waiting for the morning so we could leave.
The next day, our luck started to turn around. We wanted to leave Livingston as soon as possible and decided to head to the docks to see if we could find the boat that would take us to our hostel on the river. As we approached the dock, we saw a small skiff with "Finca Tatin" printed on the side. The guy was just shoving off, so we yelled to get him to stop. He waved us on and like that we were leaving this weird and terrifying town. First we had to make one stop. We approached a smaller dock away from the main part of town. Waiting eagerly for our boat was no other than ... the evil curse man! He was getting on our boat. Oh man, Chris and I thought were going to get stabbed or tossed over the side of the boat. We avoided eye contact, but even in his drunken stupor, he recognized us! But he wasn't angry he just gave a chuckle and sat back. What were the chances?! Fortunately, he was just going to the hovel where he lived on a little island a few minutes away.
What a surreal experience. We made it to Finca Tatin on the Rio Dulce without further incident. In fact, the ride was spectacular.
Finca Tatin is a series of cabins attached to a main lodge and dining hall. The Finca sits directly on the green peaceful waters of the Rio Dulce and behind lies lush green forest.
We rented a private cabin with a deck that overlooked the water. We put on our suits, grabbed a couple beers and headed to the dock for some rope swinging and tube sitting. I dreamt of places like this when I was a kid. The river was calm, clean, warm, and most importantly, devoid of any scary critters.
We spent the next three days swimming, tubing, and jumping off a rope swing. I never really over came my fear of the swing. I was terrified of slipping on to the deck, or smashing my face (the latter proved to be true. luckily I suffered no permanent injuries). Chris couldn't get enough of swinging from the ten-foot life guard tower into the water below. Until he lost his wedding band. He had put on sunscreen right before he grabbed onto the rope, and when he jumped, his ring slid right off. He attempted to search the deep murky water for the ring, but that was futile.
What can you do? We were really sad, but we decided that people in the community would be searching for that ring for years. Perhaps a legend about the mysterious ring would born.
Rio Dulce, was as I said earlier, a fantasy land. In addition to playing in the river, we swam in an ancient Mayan cave and snuck up on bats living in a cavern with a giant waterfall careening into a pool below; and we had the hostel jungle dog lead us on a hike through the thicket forest to a slot canyon teaming with red bromeliads and fluorescent green moss.
We headed out on our third day. We were going to Flores, Guatemala where we were meeting our Norwegian pals and organizing an expedition to the hidden El Mirador Ruins!
I'll let Chris get onto that. One last thing... the bus ride to Flores was the worst of our entire trip. I did not know it was possible to fit that many people in a bus. The bus was made for about 75 people yet around 150 were crammed on. A man literally used a stick to jam people in. Chris and I were standing on one foot for most of the ride. Chris had his arm pit over a tiny old woman, and was unbenounced to him, sweating profusely on her. I was close to having a panic attack. I hate crowds. When two people next to us got off the bus and left an empty seat, I jumped on it. Literally. After that I refused to ever get on a bus that crowded again. EVER. (I bet I will again, but I hope not for a long time!).
Monday, May 2, 2011
Honduras Day 2 through Day 5
We got up bright and early on Friday morning to visit the ruins in Copan. The site is not as large as Tikal and does not have huge pyramids. It is famous for having giant, intricately-carved statues called stelae, and is known as the cultural center of the Mayan civilization. The ruins are a very beautiful 1.5 km walk from town, which is really nice... no need to wait for buses and you can come and go as you please.
We spent the entire day at the site and I played the impromptu tour guide using our Lonely Planet guide book. Not as good as an actual guide, but way cheaper!
Rather than try to give my own description of Copan, check out this link for more details... http://www.copanruins.com/
It was Good Friday, which is the most important day during Semana Santa. We especially wanted to see the Easter carpets. The carpets are made from colored sawdust and flowers and illustrate images related to Easter. Very cool.
We waited for a big procession or other event to happen in the square, but people mostly just wandered around looking at the carpet and eating street food. We people watched and had some more street food and then hit the sack. Wait... I almost forgot PONCHE. YUM. Before we went to bed, we bought two cups of stuff served from a bubbling pot that an old woman was stirring with a giant woodden spoon. We had no idea what we were getting, but we were sold after the first sip... delicious creamy cinnamony eggy goodness... like liquid flan. Okay so back to the next day...On Saturday we were heading to some hot springs. We did not really know what to expect with the springs other than they were hot and near a big river.
On Saturday morning we walked around town asking where we could catch a bus to the springs. We got several different answers... there was no bus. The bus only came at 9:30 and the only way we could get there was in a cab for $30! Yeah right! The 10th person we asked finally gave us a straight answer and pointed us to the correct bus. The hour and a half ride up in to the mountains above Copan was incredible.... so green and lush. We had no idea we were heading that far into the hills.
The bus pulled up to the entrance of the springs and it looked like a public park on July 4th weekend in the states. Hundreds of people were bbq'ing and picnicking. There was a scum-filled pool teaming with little kids, and people were bobbing all over the place in the river below. Yikes. Not what we signed up for... the girl told us if we paid an extra $6 we could go to the spa. Spa!? Where do I sign up for that! We gladly paid the $6 and girl lead us through a manmade cave passage way that lead to more than 20 hot spring pools surrounded by tropical gardens, statues and waterfalls. Paradise... except it was Semana Santa and the place was packed... but still beautiful!
We found an empty spring and dipped our toes in... holy crap... hotness! We managed to sit in the boiling pool for a few minutes but decided to check out the river to cool off. Chris led me down a steep, slippery path to the river where I had to walk through some mosquito filled stagnant water to get to the flowing cool water, which, to his defense was refreshing. However as we were enjoying our dip, Chris noticed tiny black and white worms crawling on him. Christ! We have learned that often times small critters are much much more dangerous than big ones. I imagined the squirming things making there way through my skin, causing me to contract some horrible tropical disease. Well, we knew one way to kill the worms, burn them in hot water. We immediately headed back to the boiling cauldron!
After our worm trauma, the day was much more peaceful. The pools ranged in temperature from very hot to very cold. They had a hot waterfall for massaging shoulders and backs, a pool filled with river rocks to massage feet, and my favorite, the mud bath.
The place was so amazing! I would love to come back for vacation when we're not on a budget. Apparently you can visit the springs at night and the place is lit up with candles. You can also get massages and facials at the spa. Ahhhhh.
Completely relaxed and worm free, we caught a bus back to town... this mini bus was so crammed full of people it was hilarious. I had a 13-year old kid basically sitting in my lap! The ride was still beautiful.
Since we couldn't make it to El Salvador on this trip, we had to get our papusa fix in Honduras. There were actually two papusarias next door to one another in Copan, so we had options. We hoped we picked the right one. Fortunately we did.
Papusas are made with thick corn tortillas and filled with a variety of ingredients. The papusas we had were served with pickled beets, carrots and cabbage. I don't really like beets, but man, was that a winning combo!
We stuffed ourselves silly on the El Salvadorian hot pockets and took a spin around town. Copan is very charming... cobble stone streets, brightly colored buildings with red tiled roofs... we were happy to have spent Semana Santa in such a special place. Oh, yeah, we had more PONCHE!!!
Sunday was Easter. I planned on attending Easter Sunday mass that morning. Really I wanted to go. Chris and I got up super early had a pancake breakfast and then, dressed in my finest clothes, I headed to 10 a.m. mass but.... the church was closed! Yes, closed on Easter Sunday. People continued to gather outside the church. Chris waited with me until about 10:45 when I finally called it quits. Totally bizarre! So instead of going to church we decided to pay an 18-year old $20 to take us to a hidden waterfall up in the hills in a nearby village. Apparently you needed a local guide, as tourists who had ventured there in the past had been attacked... not mugged... attacked. Yikes.
So our little buddy met us at our hotel and then the three of us took a bus to his village. He was wearing a polo shirt, nice jeans, and dress shoes... looked like he was going to a club... but he told us this is what he'd be hiking in!
We were looking forward to jumping off some cliffs, swimming under a waterfall and playing in the river. What we didn't take into consideration was the recent rain storms, which had turned the water in the river light brown. ewww.
There were about 20 young guys at the falls. I was the only female. I wasn't too comfortable parading around in my bathing suit or jumping off the 70 foot cliff into the churning brown pool of water below! I watched as Chris and the kids lept off the towering rocks.
After tempting fate for a couple hours, we hiked back down and caught a bus back to Copan. Chris had volunteered to try once again to go to Sunday mass with me. This time the church was actually open. The mass was obviously all in Spanish, which was good practice for us. Unfortunately, the homily went on for an hour! Old ladies were sound asleep, kids were playig bejeweled on cell phones. I wanted to weep from boredom. Catholic guilt generally prevents me from leaving mass early, but I couldn't take it. Chris and I finally got up and left.
As we were walking to a nearby restaurant after our escape from church, an American guy, who we recognized as a fellow sinner who had skirted out of church early, approached us. He couldn't believe how long the mass was either. He was a surgeon from Conneticut. He joined us for dinner, again, another reason I love traveling. How often in the States do you meet a stranger on the street and invite him to dinner? Fabulous. We said our goodbyes to our new friend and went to bed in preparation for our next adventure to a new country: Guatemala!
We spent the entire day at the site and I played the impromptu tour guide using our Lonely Planet guide book. Not as good as an actual guide, but way cheaper!
Rather than try to give my own description of Copan, check out this link for more details... http://www.copanruins.com/
It was Good Friday, which is the most important day during Semana Santa. We especially wanted to see the Easter carpets. The carpets are made from colored sawdust and flowers and illustrate images related to Easter. Very cool.
We waited for a big procession or other event to happen in the square, but people mostly just wandered around looking at the carpet and eating street food. We people watched and had some more street food and then hit the sack. Wait... I almost forgot PONCHE. YUM. Before we went to bed, we bought two cups of stuff served from a bubbling pot that an old woman was stirring with a giant woodden spoon. We had no idea what we were getting, but we were sold after the first sip... delicious creamy cinnamony eggy goodness... like liquid flan. Okay so back to the next day...On Saturday we were heading to some hot springs. We did not really know what to expect with the springs other than they were hot and near a big river.
On Saturday morning we walked around town asking where we could catch a bus to the springs. We got several different answers... there was no bus. The bus only came at 9:30 and the only way we could get there was in a cab for $30! Yeah right! The 10th person we asked finally gave us a straight answer and pointed us to the correct bus. The hour and a half ride up in to the mountains above Copan was incredible.... so green and lush. We had no idea we were heading that far into the hills.
The bus pulled up to the entrance of the springs and it looked like a public park on July 4th weekend in the states. Hundreds of people were bbq'ing and picnicking. There was a scum-filled pool teaming with little kids, and people were bobbing all over the place in the river below. Yikes. Not what we signed up for... the girl told us if we paid an extra $6 we could go to the spa. Spa!? Where do I sign up for that! We gladly paid the $6 and girl lead us through a manmade cave passage way that lead to more than 20 hot spring pools surrounded by tropical gardens, statues and waterfalls. Paradise... except it was Semana Santa and the place was packed... but still beautiful!
We found an empty spring and dipped our toes in... holy crap... hotness! We managed to sit in the boiling pool for a few minutes but decided to check out the river to cool off. Chris led me down a steep, slippery path to the river where I had to walk through some mosquito filled stagnant water to get to the flowing cool water, which, to his defense was refreshing. However as we were enjoying our dip, Chris noticed tiny black and white worms crawling on him. Christ! We have learned that often times small critters are much much more dangerous than big ones. I imagined the squirming things making there way through my skin, causing me to contract some horrible tropical disease. Well, we knew one way to kill the worms, burn them in hot water. We immediately headed back to the boiling cauldron!
After our worm trauma, the day was much more peaceful. The pools ranged in temperature from very hot to very cold. They had a hot waterfall for massaging shoulders and backs, a pool filled with river rocks to massage feet, and my favorite, the mud bath.
The place was so amazing! I would love to come back for vacation when we're not on a budget. Apparently you can visit the springs at night and the place is lit up with candles. You can also get massages and facials at the spa. Ahhhhh.
Completely relaxed and worm free, we caught a bus back to town... this mini bus was so crammed full of people it was hilarious. I had a 13-year old kid basically sitting in my lap! The ride was still beautiful.
Since we couldn't make it to El Salvador on this trip, we had to get our papusa fix in Honduras. There were actually two papusarias next door to one another in Copan, so we had options. We hoped we picked the right one. Fortunately we did.
Papusas are made with thick corn tortillas and filled with a variety of ingredients. The papusas we had were served with pickled beets, carrots and cabbage. I don't really like beets, but man, was that a winning combo!
We stuffed ourselves silly on the El Salvadorian hot pockets and took a spin around town. Copan is very charming... cobble stone streets, brightly colored buildings with red tiled roofs... we were happy to have spent Semana Santa in such a special place. Oh, yeah, we had more PONCHE!!!
Sunday was Easter. I planned on attending Easter Sunday mass that morning. Really I wanted to go. Chris and I got up super early had a pancake breakfast and then, dressed in my finest clothes, I headed to 10 a.m. mass but.... the church was closed! Yes, closed on Easter Sunday. People continued to gather outside the church. Chris waited with me until about 10:45 when I finally called it quits. Totally bizarre! So instead of going to church we decided to pay an 18-year old $20 to take us to a hidden waterfall up in the hills in a nearby village. Apparently you needed a local guide, as tourists who had ventured there in the past had been attacked... not mugged... attacked. Yikes.
So our little buddy met us at our hotel and then the three of us took a bus to his village. He was wearing a polo shirt, nice jeans, and dress shoes... looked like he was going to a club... but he told us this is what he'd be hiking in!
We were looking forward to jumping off some cliffs, swimming under a waterfall and playing in the river. What we didn't take into consideration was the recent rain storms, which had turned the water in the river light brown. ewww.
There were about 20 young guys at the falls. I was the only female. I wasn't too comfortable parading around in my bathing suit or jumping off the 70 foot cliff into the churning brown pool of water below! I watched as Chris and the kids lept off the towering rocks.
After tempting fate for a couple hours, we hiked back down and caught a bus back to Copan. Chris had volunteered to try once again to go to Sunday mass with me. This time the church was actually open. The mass was obviously all in Spanish, which was good practice for us. Unfortunately, the homily went on for an hour! Old ladies were sound asleep, kids were playig bejeweled on cell phones. I wanted to weep from boredom. Catholic guilt generally prevents me from leaving mass early, but I couldn't take it. Chris and I finally got up and left.
As we were walking to a nearby restaurant after our escape from church, an American guy, who we recognized as a fellow sinner who had skirted out of church early, approached us. He couldn't believe how long the mass was either. He was a surgeon from Conneticut. He joined us for dinner, again, another reason I love traveling. How often in the States do you meet a stranger on the street and invite him to dinner? Fabulous. We said our goodbyes to our new friend and went to bed in preparation for our next adventure to a new country: Guatemala!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Copan Honduras Day 1
We woke up on Thursday morning feeling fresh and ready for what Copan had to offer us. The night before, over steak and eggs, we formulated a plan for the day. We decided to hold off on going to the ruins right away. We wanted to give the ruin site our full attention and wanted to have lots of energy. Instead, we planned on going to a wild bird rescue/refugee Macaw Mountain. After working at the Jaguar Rescue, we were curious to see how other people ran non-profit animal rescues.
The hike to the refuge was a pleasant and scenic hike up a mountain road and offered great views of the town of Copan below. Eventhough it was Semana Santa, the parking lot was, thankfully, very empty.
We paid a $10 entry fee each, which included a private, English speaking guide. Great deal!
We were really impressed with the center. The enclosures were thoughtfully laidout throughout the jungle, simulating the natural surroundings. The center was located adjacent to the Copan river, which added to the charm of the place.
Our young guide spoke English very well, and even managed to add in a few English slang terms now and then. He was very knowledgable about the different kinds of birds at the center, of which there were several including: macaws (of course), two kinds of toucans, hawks, owls, lorakeets, and love birds.
We strolled around the grounds for an hour or so and even made friends with some sweet Macaws. They are such amazing animals. Although, apparently, not the best talkers. That honor goes to a type of green lorakeet -- we had a bunch living near our cabin in Costa Rica.
So after learning about our feather friends we headed back down the mountain to eat our first round of street food in Copan... delicious grilled pork and beef served with beans, shredded cabbage and tomatoes, and served with tiny, thick corn tortillas, all for $1. Amazing! We went to bed early to prepare for big day at the ruins.
The hike to the refuge was a pleasant and scenic hike up a mountain road and offered great views of the town of Copan below. Eventhough it was Semana Santa, the parking lot was, thankfully, very empty.
We paid a $10 entry fee each, which included a private, English speaking guide. Great deal!
We were really impressed with the center. The enclosures were thoughtfully laidout throughout the jungle, simulating the natural surroundings. The center was located adjacent to the Copan river, which added to the charm of the place.
Our young guide spoke English very well, and even managed to add in a few English slang terms now and then. He was very knowledgable about the different kinds of birds at the center, of which there were several including: macaws (of course), two kinds of toucans, hawks, owls, lorakeets, and love birds.
We strolled around the grounds for an hour or so and even made friends with some sweet Macaws. They are such amazing animals. Although, apparently, not the best talkers. That honor goes to a type of green lorakeet -- we had a bunch living near our cabin in Costa Rica.
So after learning about our feather friends we headed back down the mountain to eat our first round of street food in Copan... delicious grilled pork and beef served with beans, shredded cabbage and tomatoes, and served with tiny, thick corn tortillas, all for $1. Amazing! We went to bed early to prepare for big day at the ruins.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
The best laid plans of Chris and Joy
We got up early that Tuesday morning to catch a 6 a.m. bus from Somoto to the border in Honduras. Our goal was to make it to Copan in Honduras at around 6 p.m. that night. Our travel plans were SUPER aggressive and pretty unrealistic, but we had been lucky so far. Maybe our luck would continue.
The first leg of our trip was from Somoto to the border of Honduras, only 20 kilometers away. No way that would take more than 30 minutes, right? Wrong! Our bus driver left 15 minutes late and then decided to pick up every single person on the side of the road, which added another 30 minutes to our ride. Ugh. We needed to get to Tegucigalpa by 1 p.m. at the latest in order to catch the last bus to Copan that left at 2 p.m.
It was already after 8 a.m. when we crossed the border in to Honduras. Now we needed to catch a shuttle from the border to our next destination: San Marcos, Honduras, where we had to then catch a bus to Tegucigalpa and then onward to Copan.
We saw the shuttle we needed to take parked about 100 yards from where we crossed the border. The driver was enjoying a leisurely breakfast on the hood of the van while about 20 people were waiting for him. I have really tried to be more patient on this trip, but this was about to make my head explode!!!
Finally, after about 20 minutes, Our hombre hambre finished his breakfast and decided to pick up our group. BUT after he shoved us all in, he decided the shuttle wasn´t full enough, so he waited until a couple more people ... and then a couple more people showed up before we could leave!
So, after the driver shoved half the population on Honduras on to the shuttle, we were off on our hour trip to San Marcos. We still hoped we could make it to Copan by 6 p.m.
We made it to the cute little town of San Marcos at around 9:30 a.m. We hopped off and immediately headed to the bus station to catch the next bus to Tegucigalpa. The next one left at 10 a.m., which would get us to Tegucigalpa at around 2 p.m. Our dream of getting to Copan at 6 p.m. that day was crushed. :(
We came to terms with staying in Tegucigalpa for a night. We would just catch the first bus out of the city the next morning and get to Copan before lunch. ¡Nunca problema!
The bus ride to Tegucigalpa was long and stressful, but we were at least on a big bus with A.C. Lots of questions raced through our heads... What if there was no bus to Copan for the rest of the week? What if we had to stay in Teguc for all of Semana Santa??
We had heard that Tegucigalpa was crappy place, but it was more than crappy. Smog ominously settled over the haphazardly built city as we drove down through the surrounding mountains. Traffic at mid-day was like L.A. but scarier Our bus pulled into what looked like a street but there were so many buses, cars and vendors scattered every which way, who knew if it was a street of parking lot.
We grabbed our bags, hopped off the bus, and looked for the oldest cabby we could find.
We found an elderly gentleman with a limp and barely any teeth to take us to the big bus station. We asked about buses to Copan and he just kept asking if we had a reservation. Uh oh.
So we get to the bus station and there was no line. Yes! We headed to the counter and asked for two tickets to Copan early the next morning. The kid selling tickets tells us there is no bus. Okay, no bus in the morning we think. We ask him if there is one in the afternoon. Nope. Okay. Panic is setting in. When is there a bus, we ask him?? There is NO bus to Copan for the rest of the week! Crap. It was happening!
We scrambled to come up with plan B. We decided to buy tickets to San Pedro, Honduras, and once in San Pedro, we would try and buy tickets to Copan. There was no guarantee that tickets to Copan would even be available, but we had to try. Oh, by the way, San Pedro has the title of being the HIV/AIDS capital of Central America, and has one of the highest crime rates and gang problems of any city in Central America. Sounds like a swell place to spend a few nights, no?
We bought our over-priced first-class tickets to San Pedro and walked out of the bus station, heads down, and nerves shot, into the terrifying streets of Tegucigalpa.
I love cities. Really. I want to give every place I go a chance before I judge it, but the area we were in in Teguc was terrifying, dirty, and ugly. Even in broad daylight I felt vulnerable walking around. People starred at us. We stuck out like terrified white sore thumbs with giant backpacks.
We scurried about looking for a decent place to stay, and settled on a hotel based on the recommendation of a local coconut vendor. The place wasn´t bad, if you could get past the bars on the window and bullet proof glass surrounding the convience store next door.
We hunkered down in our room after making a run for a diner two doors down the road for dinner. It was only 7 p.m. but we just wanted to go to bed, wake up and get our stressful journey over with.
We made our way out of our hotel room at 7 a.m. to head to the station for our 8 a.m. bus, when we opened the hotel door, we were greeted by hundreds of people waiting for buses that were crammed onto the street in front of our hotel. People were yelling, cars were honking, it was getting ugly. So much for it being Holy Week! We put our heads down and plowed through the crowds.
We had no problems getting our expensive bus to Copan. I guess sometimes it does pay to buy the more expensive bus ticket.
We tried to enjoy our 4-hour luxury ride in our bus with AC, movies and snacks along the way, but we were troubled by our unknown traveling future.
As we headed into San Pedro we became more anxious. Time to put on our game face.
The San Pedro bus station was HUGE and intimidating. Hundreds of people were waiting in large masses that were apparently lines to buy tickets. Everyone was shouting and trying to shove closer to the ticket window. We were the only gringos in sight, too. This was not looking good.
We finally found a ticket window selling tickets to Copan, and thankfully, there were NO people! We bought two tickets to Copan before the woman behind the counter changed her mind and told us she was sorry but buses to Copan were all sold out.
We grabbed our tickets and held on to them like Charlie held on to his Golden ticket. We had two hours to wait, which gave us a small taste of Sand Pedro. Glad we were leaving!
We posted up by the area where our bus would be arriving about 30 minutes before our departure. We met a couple of terrified young guys who were traveling to Copan as well. They were very thankful to find some other backpackers! We stuck together and waited to see what kind of bus we´d be riding in. We prayed for a tourist bus but knew better. A chicken bus rounded the corner toward the station and everyone around us surged toward the waiting area. Chris and I were not messing around. We were getting a seat, damnit. I didn´t care who I had to push out of the way!
We had strategically placed ourselves at the front of the group and the minute the bus doors opened, I pushed my way through. I sadly had to push and old woman holding a kid out of the way, someone elbowed me in the ribs, but still we pushed. Everyone was laughing, which made the whole scene comical rather than troubling, fortunately. As I finally made my way up the bus steps, the girl in front of me fell and couldn´t get up. I grabbed her and picked her up and pushed. She scrambled up, and grabbed the nearest seat. Chris was way behind me, but I pushed my way through, grabbed a seat, and through my bag down to save a spot for Chris. Yes! I did it. We didn´t get screwed out of a seat like usual.
After all the pushing was through, and everyone had made it on the bus, we looked around and ... everyone had a seat. Everyone. Why the hell were we pushing?! Hilarious.
So we had made it over several hurdles and were on our way to Copan. FINALLY. We didn´t care that we were on a crowded sweaty school bus, at least we were on our way.
Spirits were high and the scenery was beautiful as we made our way into North Central Honduras. Chris and I had almost forgotten that we had NO place to stay when we actually got to Copan. Shit. We grabbed our guide book and picked out a few promising places to stay. One of them had to have availability even during Semana Santa.
About an hour away from Copan the sky turned black and clouds started to churn. A light rain started to fall. After about 30 minutes the light drizzle turned into a down pour. As we pulled up to the bus stop in Copan, it was a full-on torrential down pour.
It was pouring down rain, we were in a strange town at night, and we had no place to stay. Perfect!
We grabbed bags and started to run toward the center of town where all the hotels were located. As we approached the town center, our stomachs. dropped. People were pouring out of hotel doors. Everyone was trying to get a room. Now things were really bad. Were we going to have to spend the night in a park??? As we were running around frantically, a small man in a poncho approached us and told us to follow him. The poor guy had barely any teeth and managed to emit and odor even during a rain storm, but still, we followed him. What other choice did we have?
I was a little freaked out when he took us down a dark cobblestone road, but as continued we headed toward a building with large wooden arched gates as an entry way. We ran through the entry way, and were greeted by a row of perfectly nice little hotel rooms. Two other girls were trying to bargain for a room. The owner new he had the advantage. They sadly couldn´t afford the room, but Chris and I didn´t care what he was going to charge, we were gonna pay!
The owner asked for $35 but bargained him down to $28 a night. We grabbed the key, through down our bags, and fell onto our bed. YES. We made it!!!
We were starving and the owner recommended a good restaurant down the road. We happily ran out to grab money and some food. As we walked down the road, suddenly everything went dark. A power outage... very typical, but not ideal at this time. We had $2 to our name and needed cash badly. Of course now none of the ATMs would be working without electricity. I wanted to sit and cry.
We continued to scurry about trying to figure out what to do, when finally the lights came back on. We grabbed cash from an ATM and headed out quickly to grab some grub. By the time we made it to the restaurant, the electricity had gone out again, but no worries. We enjoyed a nice candlelit dinner that first night in Copan. Our traveling adventures to Copan had wiped us out, so we headed back early to our hotel for a hot shower, clean bed, and cable t.v.
The first leg of our trip was from Somoto to the border of Honduras, only 20 kilometers away. No way that would take more than 30 minutes, right? Wrong! Our bus driver left 15 minutes late and then decided to pick up every single person on the side of the road, which added another 30 minutes to our ride. Ugh. We needed to get to Tegucigalpa by 1 p.m. at the latest in order to catch the last bus to Copan that left at 2 p.m.
It was already after 8 a.m. when we crossed the border in to Honduras. Now we needed to catch a shuttle from the border to our next destination: San Marcos, Honduras, where we had to then catch a bus to Tegucigalpa and then onward to Copan.
We saw the shuttle we needed to take parked about 100 yards from where we crossed the border. The driver was enjoying a leisurely breakfast on the hood of the van while about 20 people were waiting for him. I have really tried to be more patient on this trip, but this was about to make my head explode!!!
Finally, after about 20 minutes, Our hombre hambre finished his breakfast and decided to pick up our group. BUT after he shoved us all in, he decided the shuttle wasn´t full enough, so he waited until a couple more people ... and then a couple more people showed up before we could leave!
So, after the driver shoved half the population on Honduras on to the shuttle, we were off on our hour trip to San Marcos. We still hoped we could make it to Copan by 6 p.m.
We made it to the cute little town of San Marcos at around 9:30 a.m. We hopped off and immediately headed to the bus station to catch the next bus to Tegucigalpa. The next one left at 10 a.m., which would get us to Tegucigalpa at around 2 p.m. Our dream of getting to Copan at 6 p.m. that day was crushed. :(
We came to terms with staying in Tegucigalpa for a night. We would just catch the first bus out of the city the next morning and get to Copan before lunch. ¡Nunca problema!
The bus ride to Tegucigalpa was long and stressful, but we were at least on a big bus with A.C. Lots of questions raced through our heads... What if there was no bus to Copan for the rest of the week? What if we had to stay in Teguc for all of Semana Santa??
We had heard that Tegucigalpa was crappy place, but it was more than crappy. Smog ominously settled over the haphazardly built city as we drove down through the surrounding mountains. Traffic at mid-day was like L.A. but scarier Our bus pulled into what looked like a street but there were so many buses, cars and vendors scattered every which way, who knew if it was a street of parking lot.
We grabbed our bags, hopped off the bus, and looked for the oldest cabby we could find.
We found an elderly gentleman with a limp and barely any teeth to take us to the big bus station. We asked about buses to Copan and he just kept asking if we had a reservation. Uh oh.
So we get to the bus station and there was no line. Yes! We headed to the counter and asked for two tickets to Copan early the next morning. The kid selling tickets tells us there is no bus. Okay, no bus in the morning we think. We ask him if there is one in the afternoon. Nope. Okay. Panic is setting in. When is there a bus, we ask him?? There is NO bus to Copan for the rest of the week! Crap. It was happening!
We scrambled to come up with plan B. We decided to buy tickets to San Pedro, Honduras, and once in San Pedro, we would try and buy tickets to Copan. There was no guarantee that tickets to Copan would even be available, but we had to try. Oh, by the way, San Pedro has the title of being the HIV/AIDS capital of Central America, and has one of the highest crime rates and gang problems of any city in Central America. Sounds like a swell place to spend a few nights, no?
We bought our over-priced first-class tickets to San Pedro and walked out of the bus station, heads down, and nerves shot, into the terrifying streets of Tegucigalpa.
I love cities. Really. I want to give every place I go a chance before I judge it, but the area we were in in Teguc was terrifying, dirty, and ugly. Even in broad daylight I felt vulnerable walking around. People starred at us. We stuck out like terrified white sore thumbs with giant backpacks.
We scurried about looking for a decent place to stay, and settled on a hotel based on the recommendation of a local coconut vendor. The place wasn´t bad, if you could get past the bars on the window and bullet proof glass surrounding the convience store next door.
We hunkered down in our room after making a run for a diner two doors down the road for dinner. It was only 7 p.m. but we just wanted to go to bed, wake up and get our stressful journey over with.
We made our way out of our hotel room at 7 a.m. to head to the station for our 8 a.m. bus, when we opened the hotel door, we were greeted by hundreds of people waiting for buses that were crammed onto the street in front of our hotel. People were yelling, cars were honking, it was getting ugly. So much for it being Holy Week! We put our heads down and plowed through the crowds.
We had no problems getting our expensive bus to Copan. I guess sometimes it does pay to buy the more expensive bus ticket.
We tried to enjoy our 4-hour luxury ride in our bus with AC, movies and snacks along the way, but we were troubled by our unknown traveling future.
As we headed into San Pedro we became more anxious. Time to put on our game face.
The San Pedro bus station was HUGE and intimidating. Hundreds of people were waiting in large masses that were apparently lines to buy tickets. Everyone was shouting and trying to shove closer to the ticket window. We were the only gringos in sight, too. This was not looking good.
We finally found a ticket window selling tickets to Copan, and thankfully, there were NO people! We bought two tickets to Copan before the woman behind the counter changed her mind and told us she was sorry but buses to Copan were all sold out.
We grabbed our tickets and held on to them like Charlie held on to his Golden ticket. We had two hours to wait, which gave us a small taste of Sand Pedro. Glad we were leaving!
We posted up by the area where our bus would be arriving about 30 minutes before our departure. We met a couple of terrified young guys who were traveling to Copan as well. They were very thankful to find some other backpackers! We stuck together and waited to see what kind of bus we´d be riding in. We prayed for a tourist bus but knew better. A chicken bus rounded the corner toward the station and everyone around us surged toward the waiting area. Chris and I were not messing around. We were getting a seat, damnit. I didn´t care who I had to push out of the way!
We had strategically placed ourselves at the front of the group and the minute the bus doors opened, I pushed my way through. I sadly had to push and old woman holding a kid out of the way, someone elbowed me in the ribs, but still we pushed. Everyone was laughing, which made the whole scene comical rather than troubling, fortunately. As I finally made my way up the bus steps, the girl in front of me fell and couldn´t get up. I grabbed her and picked her up and pushed. She scrambled up, and grabbed the nearest seat. Chris was way behind me, but I pushed my way through, grabbed a seat, and through my bag down to save a spot for Chris. Yes! I did it. We didn´t get screwed out of a seat like usual.
After all the pushing was through, and everyone had made it on the bus, we looked around and ... everyone had a seat. Everyone. Why the hell were we pushing?! Hilarious.
So we had made it over several hurdles and were on our way to Copan. FINALLY. We didn´t care that we were on a crowded sweaty school bus, at least we were on our way.
Spirits were high and the scenery was beautiful as we made our way into North Central Honduras. Chris and I had almost forgotten that we had NO place to stay when we actually got to Copan. Shit. We grabbed our guide book and picked out a few promising places to stay. One of them had to have availability even during Semana Santa.
About an hour away from Copan the sky turned black and clouds started to churn. A light rain started to fall. After about 30 minutes the light drizzle turned into a down pour. As we pulled up to the bus stop in Copan, it was a full-on torrential down pour.
It was pouring down rain, we were in a strange town at night, and we had no place to stay. Perfect!
We grabbed bags and started to run toward the center of town where all the hotels were located. As we approached the town center, our stomachs. dropped. People were pouring out of hotel doors. Everyone was trying to get a room. Now things were really bad. Were we going to have to spend the night in a park??? As we were running around frantically, a small man in a poncho approached us and told us to follow him. The poor guy had barely any teeth and managed to emit and odor even during a rain storm, but still, we followed him. What other choice did we have?
I was a little freaked out when he took us down a dark cobblestone road, but as continued we headed toward a building with large wooden arched gates as an entry way. We ran through the entry way, and were greeted by a row of perfectly nice little hotel rooms. Two other girls were trying to bargain for a room. The owner new he had the advantage. They sadly couldn´t afford the room, but Chris and I didn´t care what he was going to charge, we were gonna pay!
The owner asked for $35 but bargained him down to $28 a night. We grabbed the key, through down our bags, and fell onto our bed. YES. We made it!!!
We were starving and the owner recommended a good restaurant down the road. We happily ran out to grab money and some food. As we walked down the road, suddenly everything went dark. A power outage... very typical, but not ideal at this time. We had $2 to our name and needed cash badly. Of course now none of the ATMs would be working without electricity. I wanted to sit and cry.
We continued to scurry about trying to figure out what to do, when finally the lights came back on. We grabbed cash from an ATM and headed out quickly to grab some grub. By the time we made it to the restaurant, the electricity had gone out again, but no worries. We enjoyed a nice candlelit dinner that first night in Copan. Our traveling adventures to Copan had wiped us out, so we headed back early to our hotel for a hot shower, clean bed, and cable t.v.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Somoto Canyon
Once again, we are slacking on updating our blog. But one day we´ll get completely caught up... hopefully before we make it back to S.D.!
Sooo... where was I in my last post? Hmmmm... Oh, yes, Our crazy night in Esteli and on to Somoto...
From Esteli we were heading to the farther north-west part of Nicaragua to a tiny town called Somoto, which is famed for the large canyon outside the town. Apparently the canyon wasn´t discovered by outsiders until 2004. Crazy! Now it´s a big attraction for visitors. People generally day trip from Esteli to take a 3 or 4 hour trek, swim, cliff jump, and take a lancha tour of the canyon. We opted to spend a few nights in the town, to get a better feel for the area.
We caught a midmorning bus from Esteli and made it to Somoto before 3 p.m. We were totally spent after our late night and just wanted to find a nice place to lie our heads. We found a cute and rustic family run hotel, grabbed a bite to eat, and then hunkered down for some dubbed tv and a early night sleep. We had set up a canyon tour for the following morning and wanted to be well rested.
We were picked up at our hotel the next morning at the very reasonable hour of 8:30. We were met by our guide Francisco.
The twenty-minute ride to the canyon was beautiful. I was still shocked that the place had not been discovered by people outside the area until 2004 -- it was huge!
We started our hike from Fransico´s house, which bordered the canyon park. The hike was way easier than we had imagined. Within 30 minutes we were at the river´s edge where we put our backpacks in a waterproof case that guides carried, and then hopped in the water and switched back and forth from swimming and scurrying across big boulders in shallow areas.
The canyon was spectacular. The water was a dark jade color, and the entire area was amazingly clean. We didn´t see too much wildlife, except for a few fish and an awesome, giant jumping spider that didn´t bite, of course, but our guides did talk about some mystery bird that, legend says, steals women and children and brings them to it´s nest... that´s what we understood based on our limited Spanish at least!
Anyhow, we had a blast traveling through the winding canyon walls, jumping in pools and taking in the spectacular scenery above. We had the opportunity to cliff jump in one area. I opted for the wussy jump of 2 meters. Chris, of course, went for the 6 or 7 meter jump. The guides were very very impressed!
After a couple hours of canyoning we were kind of cold and waterlogged, and low and behold waiting for us was a lancha! We gladly hopped in the little boat, which took us farther down the river to a nice little picnic spot on the river´s edge.
From there, we had to hooof it back to Francisco´s house. This hike was a bit more difficult than the hike in, but we did get to see some beautiful ranch land... we made it back to Francisco´s house after an hour hike in the sun. We were ready for a shower, a cold beverage and maybe a nap!
We had to wait about an hour for a cab, which made us even hotter and more tired. A shower sounded amazing! Unfortunately when we got to our hotel, no hay agua! What are you going to do though? We´ve learned that elecricity and running water are a priviledge and not something to count on a daily basis.
We forewent our showers and headed into to town to find a bakery that made a treat for which Somoto is renowned worldwide: rosquillos, small cracker/cookies made with a local cheese and sometimes with dried fruit on top.
We meandered through the cobble stones streets and were greeted with a friendly buenas from elderly couples sitting on stoops, and cowboys in ten gallon hats and boots parked their caballos alongside tuktuks. We liked Somoto.
We found the little bakery on the outskirts of town. It was a mini factory where two girls were filtering the finished cookies along some kind of mesh screen... no clue what this did... the girls offered us two samples, one of the cheese only crackers and one with a dried fruit on top. The first was a small hard donut shaped cracker tasted like a stale gold fish cracker. Bleh. The second, was a thinner cracker with a small piece of tamarin (?) fruit on top. At first we weren´t sold on it, but after a couple more tries, we were hooked. We bought a bag of twenty that would last less than a day. hehe.
After our little excursion through town, we were finally able to shower up and take a quick rest. After cleaning up, we took one more stroll through town. We visited a beautiful, beautiful park in the center of town. It could have been in a big city in the U.S... a cobble stone path led visitors through perfectly manicured gardens surrounded by raught iron fences, all which centered around a beautiful bubbling fountain. Again, we liked Somoto!
Directly outside of the park was a giant stone church, and when we left the park gate, directly above the church was a magnificent, orange full moon. Wow. I wish I could´ve have taken a picture!
We topped off our last evening with dinner across the street from our hotel... decent food with flavor, which was cool. We once again headed to bed early in preperation for an early and LONG day of travel... if only we had known how long it would really be!
Sooo... where was I in my last post? Hmmmm... Oh, yes, Our crazy night in Esteli and on to Somoto...
From Esteli we were heading to the farther north-west part of Nicaragua to a tiny town called Somoto, which is famed for the large canyon outside the town. Apparently the canyon wasn´t discovered by outsiders until 2004. Crazy! Now it´s a big attraction for visitors. People generally day trip from Esteli to take a 3 or 4 hour trek, swim, cliff jump, and take a lancha tour of the canyon. We opted to spend a few nights in the town, to get a better feel for the area.
We caught a midmorning bus from Esteli and made it to Somoto before 3 p.m. We were totally spent after our late night and just wanted to find a nice place to lie our heads. We found a cute and rustic family run hotel, grabbed a bite to eat, and then hunkered down for some dubbed tv and a early night sleep. We had set up a canyon tour for the following morning and wanted to be well rested.
We were picked up at our hotel the next morning at the very reasonable hour of 8:30. We were met by our guide Francisco.
The twenty-minute ride to the canyon was beautiful. I was still shocked that the place had not been discovered by people outside the area until 2004 -- it was huge!
We started our hike from Fransico´s house, which bordered the canyon park. The hike was way easier than we had imagined. Within 30 minutes we were at the river´s edge where we put our backpacks in a waterproof case that guides carried, and then hopped in the water and switched back and forth from swimming and scurrying across big boulders in shallow areas.
The canyon was spectacular. The water was a dark jade color, and the entire area was amazingly clean. We didn´t see too much wildlife, except for a few fish and an awesome, giant jumping spider that didn´t bite, of course, but our guides did talk about some mystery bird that, legend says, steals women and children and brings them to it´s nest... that´s what we understood based on our limited Spanish at least!
Anyhow, we had a blast traveling through the winding canyon walls, jumping in pools and taking in the spectacular scenery above. We had the opportunity to cliff jump in one area. I opted for the wussy jump of 2 meters. Chris, of course, went for the 6 or 7 meter jump. The guides were very very impressed!
After a couple hours of canyoning we were kind of cold and waterlogged, and low and behold waiting for us was a lancha! We gladly hopped in the little boat, which took us farther down the river to a nice little picnic spot on the river´s edge.
From there, we had to hooof it back to Francisco´s house. This hike was a bit more difficult than the hike in, but we did get to see some beautiful ranch land... we made it back to Francisco´s house after an hour hike in the sun. We were ready for a shower, a cold beverage and maybe a nap!
We had to wait about an hour for a cab, which made us even hotter and more tired. A shower sounded amazing! Unfortunately when we got to our hotel, no hay agua! What are you going to do though? We´ve learned that elecricity and running water are a priviledge and not something to count on a daily basis.
We forewent our showers and headed into to town to find a bakery that made a treat for which Somoto is renowned worldwide: rosquillos, small cracker/cookies made with a local cheese and sometimes with dried fruit on top.
We meandered through the cobble stones streets and were greeted with a friendly buenas from elderly couples sitting on stoops, and cowboys in ten gallon hats and boots parked their caballos alongside tuktuks. We liked Somoto.
We found the little bakery on the outskirts of town. It was a mini factory where two girls were filtering the finished cookies along some kind of mesh screen... no clue what this did... the girls offered us two samples, one of the cheese only crackers and one with a dried fruit on top. The first was a small hard donut shaped cracker tasted like a stale gold fish cracker. Bleh. The second, was a thinner cracker with a small piece of tamarin (?) fruit on top. At first we weren´t sold on it, but after a couple more tries, we were hooked. We bought a bag of twenty that would last less than a day. hehe.
After our little excursion through town, we were finally able to shower up and take a quick rest. After cleaning up, we took one more stroll through town. We visited a beautiful, beautiful park in the center of town. It could have been in a big city in the U.S... a cobble stone path led visitors through perfectly manicured gardens surrounded by raught iron fences, all which centered around a beautiful bubbling fountain. Again, we liked Somoto!
Directly outside of the park was a giant stone church, and when we left the park gate, directly above the church was a magnificent, orange full moon. Wow. I wish I could´ve have taken a picture!
We topped off our last evening with dinner across the street from our hotel... decent food with flavor, which was cool. We once again headed to bed early in preperation for an early and LONG day of travel... if only we had known how long it would really be!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Time Flies
Really time does fly when you´re having fun. We can´t believe our trip is more than half over! Also can´t believe how long it has been since we´ve posted an update on our blog. Unfortunately, the farther north we get, the more difficult it has become to access a computer with internet (most places have wifi, but typing lots of stuff on our iphone stinks). Soo... where to begin. Chris left off on our adventures at Rancho Tranquilo on the black sand beaches of Jiliquilo in Northern Nic... which was amazing and relaxing, but also hot. very hot. We were ready to get to the highlands.
We checked out of Tina´s place on Wednesday April 13 and hopped on a bus headed to Chinendega and then onwar to the town of Matalgalpa located in Nicaragua coffee country. We were excited to get out of the heat and ready to hike in the cool highlands in the area.
As usual, our trip took longer than expected. We had to spend about four hours in Chinendega which seems like an eternity in an town thats main attraction is a couple of delapitated churches, a Pizza parlor and a gigantic hot market place that sells knock-off name-brand clothing.
After our long stop over, we finally got on our bus to Matagalpa. The ride was beautiful.... rolling green hills and lush farm land with more white herons and egrets flying around than we had ever seen. Unfortunately, we didn´t arrive in Matalgalpa until around 8;30 at night, which is never fun when you´re in a city with no place to stay. Luckily the bus station was close to the center of town and we were able to find a clean, safe hotel in a nice area for $15. Good deal! We grabbed a bite to eat, and had ourselves a first taste of Flor de Cana rum. Now, we are not rum drinkers, but WOW. Amazing. After our rum night cap, we hit the hay to get ready for our big day of hiking.
We woke up early the next morning and were welcomed by cool mountain air, a bustling and colorful town square, and delicious strong, local coffee. Mmmm... we liked Matagalpa.
We decided to take a chicken bus up the road into the mountains to a German owned coffee plantation, Selva Negra, that had been in the area since 1880... the bus ride was easy and cheap... and entrance to the park was two dollars a piece. We had looked into the same hike that was done with a tour group and they wanted to charge $47!! HA! We paid a total of $4!
The place was surreal. We felt like we had been transported to Europe or a little village in the Rocky Mountains... definitely did not feel like Nicaragua... until we saw the spider monkeys!
We hiked for about two hours and enjoyed a nice picnic lunch at a view point that overlooked the city. When we hiked down we treated ourselves to a like side Tona at the quaint Europe lodge. Perfect day. That night we enjoyed a little too much Flor de Cana and felt that we needed to do another hike to make ourselves feel better. The hiking trail we wanted to go on was apparently not very scenic during the dry season, so we did Selva Negra round two. Just as good as the first time. We made our way down on another local bus and when we got back to town we decided to stroll around, take pictures off life going on as usual in Maltagalpa. It was a really lovely town, and people were always friendly.... funny people in the area were very big on fashion and makeup. Girls always wore make up and everyone wore knock-off brand name clothes like Tommy Hillfiger, Hollister and Abercrombie. Kinda made us feel under-dressed in our grubby backpacker clothes!
We made it an early night our last night in Matagalpa. We were leaving for Esteli early in the morning, and though it was to be an easy trip, things sometimes do not go as planned on travel days.
We got to the bus station right on time at ten to catch our bus on Saturday April 16. It was an easy ride, thankfully. We arrived to dusty, flat hot Esteli right on time at a little afternoon. We walked the mile into town rather than catch a cab, which was pretty unpleasant, but manageable, plus we saved, like TWO bucks. hehe.
We made it to the center of town and found a nice little hotel where we found a room with a private bath for $20. Great deal!
We were not too impressed with Esteli. It was hot. It was dirty and big and did not feel that special, but I guess it is not really fair to judge a place based on one days, so maybe we were missing something. However the entire reason we were in Esteli was to meet up with our awesome Norwegian buddies, Hege and Bjornar. We had not seen them since Costa Rica so we were excited to see what they had been up to in the past couple months.
We met up with them at a local Cuban restaurant that night. We also met their friend Ilva who was a Norwegian preschool teacher who participating in an exchange program that Norway has with Nicaragua. Neat!
We drank beers, ate delicious Cuban food and laughed our faces off. After dinner, our Norse friends invited us over to another Norwegian couple´s house. Andre and Miriam were part of the exchange program as well. We made our way through the dark and a little bit frightening streets of Esteli to the couples welcoming home. The house had an amazing little courtyard and the couple had little candles, were playing music and had a bunch of bottles of wine cracked. The Norwegians know how to have a good time!
We drank good wine, the guys smoked a ridiculous amount of cigars, and most importantly, we learned about the PARTY Swed! Hilarious. I will post pictures soon of Chris wearing the party Swed wig.
We really have not stayed out late EVER on this trip, so when we looked at our watches and saw it was past midnight, Chris and I panicked! We didn´t know how we were getting back to the hotel... well, our awesome Norwegian hosts said they´d gladly call a cab, however... some mentioned Cigar Zone, apparently the hottest red-rope club in all of Nicaragua. Well, for some reason, everyone decided it was a great idea to pile in a cab and head to the club. I was wearing hiking pants, a tee shirt and flip flops, not exactly red rope attire, but we said what the hell, let´s go.
Sooo... we take a 30 minute cab ride to Cigar Zone and it´s decided we have to go VIP style. Chris and I realize we have a total of 20 dollars and it cost 10 dollars each just to get in! Everyone pitched in for us and said we could pay them back. Let me tell you, they do VIP right in Esteli. We had a big bottle of rum, some sode and limes, our own private area with a view of the dance floor, and the guys could smoke cigars to their hearts content.
It only took a little ron for us to get out on the dance floor and make asses of ourselves.. funny enough no one gave us a second look even though they were dressed to the nines, like anyone else at a red rope club.
We managed to stay out until 4 a.m., which is completely out of character for us, but it was worth every second. We loved hanging out with our Norwegian friends and will never forget our time at a red-rope club in Nicaragua... hell, it might be the last red-rope fancy club I ever visit!
OK... so obviously we felt pretty crappy on Sunday morning. Magically we managed to wake up at 9 a.m. and have some coffee and pack up. We headed over to Ilva´s house to say good bye to Hege, Bjornar and to rehash the events of the previous night.... fun was had by all was the general consensus!
Chris and I regrouped, and head to the bus station to catch a bus to Somoto on the northern border of Nicaragua and Honduras. We planned on spending a couple days in Somoto. Our main goal was to visit the canyon, which was supposed to be spectacular. Shockingly it was discovered by scientists until 1994, which seems weird because it is a HUGE canyon!
I will leave you there for now. Other people are waiting for the computer at the hostel. We will up date on our adventures at Somoto, Copan Ruinas, and Flores. Right now, we are preparing for a big hike into the jungle to see some hidden ruins. Amazing!!!
We checked out of Tina´s place on Wednesday April 13 and hopped on a bus headed to Chinendega and then onwar to the town of Matalgalpa located in Nicaragua coffee country. We were excited to get out of the heat and ready to hike in the cool highlands in the area.
As usual, our trip took longer than expected. We had to spend about four hours in Chinendega which seems like an eternity in an town thats main attraction is a couple of delapitated churches, a Pizza parlor and a gigantic hot market place that sells knock-off name-brand clothing.
After our long stop over, we finally got on our bus to Matagalpa. The ride was beautiful.... rolling green hills and lush farm land with more white herons and egrets flying around than we had ever seen. Unfortunately, we didn´t arrive in Matalgalpa until around 8;30 at night, which is never fun when you´re in a city with no place to stay. Luckily the bus station was close to the center of town and we were able to find a clean, safe hotel in a nice area for $15. Good deal! We grabbed a bite to eat, and had ourselves a first taste of Flor de Cana rum. Now, we are not rum drinkers, but WOW. Amazing. After our rum night cap, we hit the hay to get ready for our big day of hiking.
We woke up early the next morning and were welcomed by cool mountain air, a bustling and colorful town square, and delicious strong, local coffee. Mmmm... we liked Matagalpa.
We decided to take a chicken bus up the road into the mountains to a German owned coffee plantation, Selva Negra, that had been in the area since 1880... the bus ride was easy and cheap... and entrance to the park was two dollars a piece. We had looked into the same hike that was done with a tour group and they wanted to charge $47!! HA! We paid a total of $4!
The place was surreal. We felt like we had been transported to Europe or a little village in the Rocky Mountains... definitely did not feel like Nicaragua... until we saw the spider monkeys!
We hiked for about two hours and enjoyed a nice picnic lunch at a view point that overlooked the city. When we hiked down we treated ourselves to a like side Tona at the quaint Europe lodge. Perfect day. That night we enjoyed a little too much Flor de Cana and felt that we needed to do another hike to make ourselves feel better. The hiking trail we wanted to go on was apparently not very scenic during the dry season, so we did Selva Negra round two. Just as good as the first time. We made our way down on another local bus and when we got back to town we decided to stroll around, take pictures off life going on as usual in Maltagalpa. It was a really lovely town, and people were always friendly.... funny people in the area were very big on fashion and makeup. Girls always wore make up and everyone wore knock-off brand name clothes like Tommy Hillfiger, Hollister and Abercrombie. Kinda made us feel under-dressed in our grubby backpacker clothes!
We made it an early night our last night in Matagalpa. We were leaving for Esteli early in the morning, and though it was to be an easy trip, things sometimes do not go as planned on travel days.
We got to the bus station right on time at ten to catch our bus on Saturday April 16. It was an easy ride, thankfully. We arrived to dusty, flat hot Esteli right on time at a little afternoon. We walked the mile into town rather than catch a cab, which was pretty unpleasant, but manageable, plus we saved, like TWO bucks. hehe.
We made it to the center of town and found a nice little hotel where we found a room with a private bath for $20. Great deal!
We were not too impressed with Esteli. It was hot. It was dirty and big and did not feel that special, but I guess it is not really fair to judge a place based on one days, so maybe we were missing something. However the entire reason we were in Esteli was to meet up with our awesome Norwegian buddies, Hege and Bjornar. We had not seen them since Costa Rica so we were excited to see what they had been up to in the past couple months.
We met up with them at a local Cuban restaurant that night. We also met their friend Ilva who was a Norwegian preschool teacher who participating in an exchange program that Norway has with Nicaragua. Neat!
We drank beers, ate delicious Cuban food and laughed our faces off. After dinner, our Norse friends invited us over to another Norwegian couple´s house. Andre and Miriam were part of the exchange program as well. We made our way through the dark and a little bit frightening streets of Esteli to the couples welcoming home. The house had an amazing little courtyard and the couple had little candles, were playing music and had a bunch of bottles of wine cracked. The Norwegians know how to have a good time!
We drank good wine, the guys smoked a ridiculous amount of cigars, and most importantly, we learned about the PARTY Swed! Hilarious. I will post pictures soon of Chris wearing the party Swed wig.
We really have not stayed out late EVER on this trip, so when we looked at our watches and saw it was past midnight, Chris and I panicked! We didn´t know how we were getting back to the hotel... well, our awesome Norwegian hosts said they´d gladly call a cab, however... some mentioned Cigar Zone, apparently the hottest red-rope club in all of Nicaragua. Well, for some reason, everyone decided it was a great idea to pile in a cab and head to the club. I was wearing hiking pants, a tee shirt and flip flops, not exactly red rope attire, but we said what the hell, let´s go.
Sooo... we take a 30 minute cab ride to Cigar Zone and it´s decided we have to go VIP style. Chris and I realize we have a total of 20 dollars and it cost 10 dollars each just to get in! Everyone pitched in for us and said we could pay them back. Let me tell you, they do VIP right in Esteli. We had a big bottle of rum, some sode and limes, our own private area with a view of the dance floor, and the guys could smoke cigars to their hearts content.
It only took a little ron for us to get out on the dance floor and make asses of ourselves.. funny enough no one gave us a second look even though they were dressed to the nines, like anyone else at a red rope club.
We managed to stay out until 4 a.m., which is completely out of character for us, but it was worth every second. We loved hanging out with our Norwegian friends and will never forget our time at a red-rope club in Nicaragua... hell, it might be the last red-rope fancy club I ever visit!
OK... so obviously we felt pretty crappy on Sunday morning. Magically we managed to wake up at 9 a.m. and have some coffee and pack up. We headed over to Ilva´s house to say good bye to Hege, Bjornar and to rehash the events of the previous night.... fun was had by all was the general consensus!
Chris and I regrouped, and head to the bus station to catch a bus to Somoto on the northern border of Nicaragua and Honduras. We planned on spending a couple days in Somoto. Our main goal was to visit the canyon, which was supposed to be spectacular. Shockingly it was discovered by scientists until 1994, which seems weird because it is a HUGE canyon!
I will leave you there for now. Other people are waiting for the computer at the hostel. We will up date on our adventures at Somoto, Copan Ruinas, and Flores. Right now, we are preparing for a big hike into the jungle to see some hidden ruins. Amazing!!!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Day 60 & Beyond!
Hey Kids,
Holy jamoly! It's been like three weeks since our last post. I can only assume Japan's cities are clean an devoid of nuclear fallout, a sensible transfer of power has been agreed upon in Libya and the Braves are in first place heading for another title!!! Right, am I right? So, I'm wrong but our travels are still so right! Can anyone guess where lovely Joy is at this moment? Give up? Taking a much needed siesta after hiking through Honduran canyons and waterfalls all day, that's where! Haha.
If you've not followed the posts on facebook, we reached the northern border of Honduras where it joins Guatemala just before the holiest of Central American holidays, Semana Santa or Easter Week. We have posted up in a town called Copan Ruinas, and, as u may suspect, they are most famous for their incredible, Mayan Ruins. However, if u ask my lady, she will tell you that their street food is TOPS. To this point, even the street food in Americana Centro has been...uh...bland. In Copan the pork street tacos are stupendous, the homade ice cream is awesome, the pupusas (more El Salvadorian than Honduran but who cares) fantastic and the cinnamon, sugar drinks (ponche) are strait addictive. Plus, Joy found the best salsa ever, and even I agreed we should purchase our own jar. You know, for the bland times.
However, how did we get here? Where have we been since April 7th? The short answers are the beach, the mountains and two HUGE major cities with a couple small ones in between. We left Leon wanting to explore the north western beaches of Nicaragua before the holy week. During 4/17 thru 4/24 there we gonna be 3 million Nicas at the beaches celebrating Christ's resurrection and cold Tona! We hoped for a more tranquil setting and were not disappointed. The first beach we hit was Las Penitas, 40 clicks west of Leon. Wow! We've never been on a more deserted stretch of beach. 22km to the north and south and it was us, the local fisherman, a couple surfers, millions of shells and hundreds of bird species. For three and a half days we played in the surf (hours a day, we were like kids on summer vacation again) and explored a 20 km. barrier island with estuaries, mangroves, crocodiles and, during certain times of year, nesting sea turtles. Didn't spot Amy sea turtles, wrong time of year, but the birds and crocs were amazing. Joy, our guide and I took a boat 2km up the estuary and another 2km back and it was like being back in prehistoric times. No people, hot, humid, giant herons and crocs. So cool. Our guides little boat ran out of gas about ten minutes from shore, so we had to paddle back. It was hilarious. I wanted a discount, joy told me to shove it, and we were back to playing in the ocean in no time. Side note - super proud of my wife! Normally a bit shy in the water after nearly breaking her sternum body surfing in Coronado, CA, was swimming champ in waves twice as big in Las Penitas. Good job, honey!
Not finished with remote beach exportation, we jumped a couple buses north to another beach just below the El Salvadorian border called Zorros Beach. We heard rumor of a hostel in this area with beach front
cabins, vegetarian food, cold beer and an owner from San Francisco. A five hour bus ride and two cold cobs of corn served via bus window, and we were beach front at Rancho Tranqilo, Zorros Beach, Nicaragua.
A nice young man with shiny bits of glitter all over his face, body and feet checked us in. Julian, glitter man, said he'd been fillin in as owner and hotelier while the actual owner, Tina, was recovering from back surgery in Leon. Apparently, she was stringing more Xmas lights around the bar and took a tumble. Yikes! She cracked her back and her ribs and after meeting her (she returned that day and Julian took of after 1.5 months at the helm) I understood why this fall injured her so badly. She's a tiny person. And what she lacks in size makes up for in Tona and cigarette consumption. For normal people, Tina was probably terrifying, for us she was interesting in a here's-what-an-ex-hippie- computer-programmer-can-do-with-a- little-bit-of-dough-in-Nicaragua kind if way. It was impressive. She didn't rise before 11 am, subsided on smokes and Tona, but kept her place spick and span and the food tasty. We stayed 3.5 days and then headed for the mountains, but we could have stayed longer. The place was special. Not sure why but it had something to do with another miles-long deserted beach, great waves (we both tried surfing with success) and the cheap rum. Flor De Cana is made about 70 km south. Great beach times.
My hands are asleep as I'm typing on the iPhone, and we are headed to Easter mass. Thus, I leave you! We will share our times in the mountains and across the two major cities of Honduras next time. We promise the next lost in less than 3 weeks, unless Internet is spotty in Guatemala. Haha. We head to Rio Dulce, Guatemala, en la mañana!
Miss y'all!
Ciao!
CP JP
Holy jamoly! It's been like three weeks since our last post. I can only assume Japan's cities are clean an devoid of nuclear fallout, a sensible transfer of power has been agreed upon in Libya and the Braves are in first place heading for another title!!! Right, am I right? So, I'm wrong but our travels are still so right! Can anyone guess where lovely Joy is at this moment? Give up? Taking a much needed siesta after hiking through Honduran canyons and waterfalls all day, that's where! Haha.
If you've not followed the posts on facebook, we reached the northern border of Honduras where it joins Guatemala just before the holiest of Central American holidays, Semana Santa or Easter Week. We have posted up in a town called Copan Ruinas, and, as u may suspect, they are most famous for their incredible, Mayan Ruins. However, if u ask my lady, she will tell you that their street food is TOPS. To this point, even the street food in Americana Centro has been...uh...bland. In Copan the pork street tacos are stupendous, the homade ice cream is awesome, the pupusas (more El Salvadorian than Honduran but who cares) fantastic and the cinnamon, sugar drinks (ponche) are strait addictive. Plus, Joy found the best salsa ever, and even I agreed we should purchase our own jar. You know, for the bland times.
However, how did we get here? Where have we been since April 7th? The short answers are the beach, the mountains and two HUGE major cities with a couple small ones in between. We left Leon wanting to explore the north western beaches of Nicaragua before the holy week. During 4/17 thru 4/24 there we gonna be 3 million Nicas at the beaches celebrating Christ's resurrection and cold Tona! We hoped for a more tranquil setting and were not disappointed. The first beach we hit was Las Penitas, 40 clicks west of Leon. Wow! We've never been on a more deserted stretch of beach. 22km to the north and south and it was us, the local fisherman, a couple surfers, millions of shells and hundreds of bird species. For three and a half days we played in the surf (hours a day, we were like kids on summer vacation again) and explored a 20 km. barrier island with estuaries, mangroves, crocodiles and, during certain times of year, nesting sea turtles. Didn't spot Amy sea turtles, wrong time of year, but the birds and crocs were amazing. Joy, our guide and I took a boat 2km up the estuary and another 2km back and it was like being back in prehistoric times. No people, hot, humid, giant herons and crocs. So cool. Our guides little boat ran out of gas about ten minutes from shore, so we had to paddle back. It was hilarious. I wanted a discount, joy told me to shove it, and we were back to playing in the ocean in no time. Side note - super proud of my wife! Normally a bit shy in the water after nearly breaking her sternum body surfing in Coronado, CA, was swimming champ in waves twice as big in Las Penitas. Good job, honey!
Not finished with remote beach exportation, we jumped a couple buses north to another beach just below the El Salvadorian border called Zorros Beach. We heard rumor of a hostel in this area with beach front
cabins, vegetarian food, cold beer and an owner from San Francisco. A five hour bus ride and two cold cobs of corn served via bus window, and we were beach front at Rancho Tranqilo, Zorros Beach, Nicaragua.
A nice young man with shiny bits of glitter all over his face, body and feet checked us in. Julian, glitter man, said he'd been fillin in as owner and hotelier while the actual owner, Tina, was recovering from back surgery in Leon. Apparently, she was stringing more Xmas lights around the bar and took a tumble. Yikes! She cracked her back and her ribs and after meeting her (she returned that day and Julian took of after 1.5 months at the helm) I understood why this fall injured her so badly. She's a tiny person. And what she lacks in size makes up for in Tona and cigarette consumption. For normal people, Tina was probably terrifying, for us she was interesting in a here's-what-an-ex-hippie- computer-programmer-can-do-with-a- little-bit-of-dough-in-Nicaragua kind if way. It was impressive. She didn't rise before 11 am, subsided on smokes and Tona, but kept her place spick and span and the food tasty. We stayed 3.5 days and then headed for the mountains, but we could have stayed longer. The place was special. Not sure why but it had something to do with another miles-long deserted beach, great waves (we both tried surfing with success) and the cheap rum. Flor De Cana is made about 70 km south. Great beach times.
My hands are asleep as I'm typing on the iPhone, and we are headed to Easter mass. Thus, I leave you! We will share our times in the mountains and across the two major cities of Honduras next time. We promise the next lost in less than 3 weeks, unless Internet is spotty in Guatemala. Haha. We head to Rio Dulce, Guatemala, en la mañana!
Miss y'all!
Ciao!
CP JP
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Leon
We are getting ready right now to leave Leon where we have spent the last couple days. After spending six days in Granada, I was not too excited about spending more time in a city, but we really enjoyed our time here.
We arrived to the dusty hot bus lot in the Leon Wednesday afternoon. We decided to walk the mile and a half to the hostel. The area surrounding the bus stop was hot hot hot, dusty, reeked of rotten fruit and garbage and had about as much charm as a dentist office. Fortunately as we neared the city center beautiful historic churches and colonial buildings started to appear...
We managed to find a nice, clean, quiet hostel with a POOL that was only 20 bucks. Serious score.
We spent our first afternoon walking around to get our bearings on the city... much bigger than Granada -- almost twice as big, in fact. The city is pretty dingy, lots of garbage and the old buildings could use a serious scrub down, but interestingly, hardly any street dogs. Oh, and they seem to favor pizza rather than hot dogs in Leon.
Despite being rough around the edges, the city is very charming, filled with cultural, and a ton of students.
After eating pizza for dinner... pineapple and ham... pretty good actually, we headed back to our hostel to make a plan for the next day. We could head to a nearby volcano to sandboard... just like it sounds, snowboarding except on sand... or we could stay in town and check out museums and churches. We opted for the latter. A few years ago I would have jumped at the opportunity to do something like sand boarding, but to us it just sounded like a hot, expensive, and potentially dangerous endeavor. Why not hit some nice museums for a couple bucks.
Yesterday morning we visited the Centro de Arte, which houses an impressive collection of art including Pre-Columbian pottery, European classic pieces dating back to the 15th century, a selection of Picassos, and a large variety of contemporary Latin American art work, all surrounded by lush gardens ands flowing fountains. The museum was impressive by any standards, and for a dollar, an absolute steal.
In the afternoon, after retreating to our pool for a few hours, we decided to hit a couple more musuems.
First we visited the Ruben Dario museum. I might embarrass Chris and myself, but neither of us know much about Reuben Dario... I think we probably should. From our guide book we learned he is a revolutionary poet who is an important figure in Nicaraguan history.
The museum is housed in Dario"s former home. It"s laid out quite nicely and is well maintained, but because the exhibits are in Spanish, we had a difficult time understanding what each exhibit meant. We did understand that he is one of the most beloved heroes in Nicaragua. I honestly have never heard of a hero poet, so go Nicaragua.
The museum was free, which was nice. Chris and I are planning on reading up on Mr. Dario more. I would love to read some of his revolutionary poetry... almost forgot... his writing style changed the way people in Nicaragua speak and write... very interesting.
After the Dario museum we visited a museum dedicated to the heroes who fought for the Sandinistas during the civil war dating from the early 1900s up until the mid 1980s. Our tour guide Benito, spoke only Spanish, which was really hard at first, but surprisingly Chris and I caught on. The history of the Sandinistas is complicated, bloody, sad, and very interesting. The exhibits themselves featured graphic photos of FSLN soldiers who were killed in the war. Most of them were just kids. Most of the pictures in the museum were taken in Leon, and were easily recognizable to us. Crazy that 30 years ago the bustling city was a bloody war zone.
At the end of our tour our guide showed us a small laminated wanted poster. It was in Spanish, but we could understand that the kid in the picture was a FSLN soldier wanted by Somoza, the opposition leader. The person in the picture was a young kid in military fatigues. It was our guide, Benito. He explained to us how he was tortured... electrecuted, teeth pulled out... so horrible but he managed to survive and escape.
We surprisingly were allowed to take pictures in the musuem. I have a couple pics of homemade weapons created by Sandinista soldiers, and a few shots of a mural of FSLN heroes. They also have a whole wall dedicated to Che... Che is big here. OH, it is also election time in Nicaragua and every day there has been a huge FSLN political rally in the plaza. Really interesting. I cannot wait to read more about Nicaraguan history.
We capped off last night with a Toña on a roof top bar where we watched the sunset and then we headed back to the hostel for one last dip in the pool.
What a perfect day filled with learning and relaxing.
Today we are off to Las Peñitas beach, just north and west of Leon. We will spend a couple days there and then we are heading further north to an area called Los Zorros beach. So excited. Life could not be better.
We arrived to the dusty hot bus lot in the Leon Wednesday afternoon. We decided to walk the mile and a half to the hostel. The area surrounding the bus stop was hot hot hot, dusty, reeked of rotten fruit and garbage and had about as much charm as a dentist office. Fortunately as we neared the city center beautiful historic churches and colonial buildings started to appear...
We managed to find a nice, clean, quiet hostel with a POOL that was only 20 bucks. Serious score.
We spent our first afternoon walking around to get our bearings on the city... much bigger than Granada -- almost twice as big, in fact. The city is pretty dingy, lots of garbage and the old buildings could use a serious scrub down, but interestingly, hardly any street dogs. Oh, and they seem to favor pizza rather than hot dogs in Leon.
Despite being rough around the edges, the city is very charming, filled with cultural, and a ton of students.
After eating pizza for dinner... pineapple and ham... pretty good actually, we headed back to our hostel to make a plan for the next day. We could head to a nearby volcano to sandboard... just like it sounds, snowboarding except on sand... or we could stay in town and check out museums and churches. We opted for the latter. A few years ago I would have jumped at the opportunity to do something like sand boarding, but to us it just sounded like a hot, expensive, and potentially dangerous endeavor. Why not hit some nice museums for a couple bucks.
Yesterday morning we visited the Centro de Arte, which houses an impressive collection of art including Pre-Columbian pottery, European classic pieces dating back to the 15th century, a selection of Picassos, and a large variety of contemporary Latin American art work, all surrounded by lush gardens ands flowing fountains. The museum was impressive by any standards, and for a dollar, an absolute steal.
In the afternoon, after retreating to our pool for a few hours, we decided to hit a couple more musuems.
First we visited the Ruben Dario museum. I might embarrass Chris and myself, but neither of us know much about Reuben Dario... I think we probably should. From our guide book we learned he is a revolutionary poet who is an important figure in Nicaraguan history.
The museum is housed in Dario"s former home. It"s laid out quite nicely and is well maintained, but because the exhibits are in Spanish, we had a difficult time understanding what each exhibit meant. We did understand that he is one of the most beloved heroes in Nicaragua. I honestly have never heard of a hero poet, so go Nicaragua.
The museum was free, which was nice. Chris and I are planning on reading up on Mr. Dario more. I would love to read some of his revolutionary poetry... almost forgot... his writing style changed the way people in Nicaragua speak and write... very interesting.
After the Dario museum we visited a museum dedicated to the heroes who fought for the Sandinistas during the civil war dating from the early 1900s up until the mid 1980s. Our tour guide Benito, spoke only Spanish, which was really hard at first, but surprisingly Chris and I caught on. The history of the Sandinistas is complicated, bloody, sad, and very interesting. The exhibits themselves featured graphic photos of FSLN soldiers who were killed in the war. Most of them were just kids. Most of the pictures in the museum were taken in Leon, and were easily recognizable to us. Crazy that 30 years ago the bustling city was a bloody war zone.
At the end of our tour our guide showed us a small laminated wanted poster. It was in Spanish, but we could understand that the kid in the picture was a FSLN soldier wanted by Somoza, the opposition leader. The person in the picture was a young kid in military fatigues. It was our guide, Benito. He explained to us how he was tortured... electrecuted, teeth pulled out... so horrible but he managed to survive and escape.
We surprisingly were allowed to take pictures in the musuem. I have a couple pics of homemade weapons created by Sandinista soldiers, and a few shots of a mural of FSLN heroes. They also have a whole wall dedicated to Che... Che is big here. OH, it is also election time in Nicaragua and every day there has been a huge FSLN political rally in the plaza. Really interesting. I cannot wait to read more about Nicaraguan history.
We capped off last night with a Toña on a roof top bar where we watched the sunset and then we headed back to the hostel for one last dip in the pool.
What a perfect day filled with learning and relaxing.
Today we are off to Las Peñitas beach, just north and west of Leon. We will spend a couple days there and then we are heading further north to an area called Los Zorros beach. So excited. Life could not be better.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Mando & Eric, We Miss You
Hola Kids,
It´s 8:35, do you know where your Joysie is? That´s right, in the dang pool. We´ve been hangin´¨Granada-style¨ for the past several days and that means pool time. This city is hot, boyz and girlz. You need a pool and the Hostel Oasis provides. Thus, you are stuck with me for this week´s post.
Notice the title of said blog. We miss our buddies. Eric & Mando rock to travel with in domestic or foreign countries. (Even though bro is afraid of getting scammed by the locals at every turn...haha). They are some of the only people we know who can survive 15-plus-hour travel days via plane, taxi, boat, bus, etc., stifling heat, no-water-waterfall hikes, steep volcanoe hikes, more taxi rides, more heat and the general alertness that comes with international travel. All four of us do it with mostly a smile, and we had a blast.
I wanted to fake-scam Eric right as he left baggage claim, but the bastard was onto me. Joy and I were spotted immediately as those dudes exited the termial at Managua International. We were staying about 50km south of Managua on Isla Ometepe, a two-voclanoe Island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua (i believe the largest lake in Central America), and the hotelier, Ryan Cassidy, from Finca Mystica our Isla Ometepe hotel, set us up with a taxi ride to the boat launch. A taxi is a great way to welcome your incoming family members to Nicaragua, as you skip hours long bus rides & scorching midday heat. Plus, Mandy was psyched to sit shotgun and impress Martin, our cab driver, with her fluent Spanish. Joy and I were excited to travel with a Spanish speaker again, and Eric was in a general state of shock feeling certain Martin was taking us to some remote alley in Managua where he and his epidermis would meet the business end of Martin´s shank. We were only too glad to disappoint me brother, as we arrived to the boat launch in San Jorge. A quick 45 minute boat ride later, and we were aboard another taxi to Finca Mystica at the base of Maderas on Isla Ometepe.
The proprietors of Finca Mystica, Ryan & Angie, lived a better part of their most recent lives in Steamboat Springs, CO, and have only recently opened their 4-cabin hotel January 2011. We felt fortunate to be some of their first guests, and the experience was amazing. Mandy was in Xanadu. Angie was a vegetarian, so all of her meals included more than one veggie option. AND they were huge on sustainability, environmental conservation and resource conservation...uhhhh...yea...Mandy likes that too. No flushing unless you take a duce, shower at night if at all (there´s a lake down the road, man) and each meal was cooked mostly from food stuffs grown on the property.
In our short 4 nights & 3.5 days at Finca we came to love the Island, Ryan & Angie, the local people and the volcanoes that loomed to the west & north each day. What follows is the account of that stay and our travels to San Juan Del Sur & Granada.
Day 1 - arrival, beers (Tona), star cicle with the brightest sky any of us had seen since traveling to Hawaii in 2005, baby fresh sheets and a good night sleep after a long-ass travel day.
Day 2 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, waterfall hike (it had no water and proved to be the hottest day we spent on the island), jump in lake, all is good, dinner and local fiesta. Ryan and Angie invited us to a local Reggaetone dance at the junior high. This was a fundraiser AND the 5th grade graduation. The entire town of Meredia was to attend, and we had our party hats strapped to the chin. HOWEVER, the fiesta turned bunk as too many hombres and not enough damas showed up, so we spent the evening sharing mass Tona with the locals at some random cantina. 15 giant beers = $12. Eric and I both fought to pay that bad boy...haha.
Day 3 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, KAYAK around the lake to the Rio Istlan and saw mucho birds. I almost had a great picture of the magestic heron until our other boat mates decided to offroad the kayak into the marsh scarring all but the mosquitoes from there to Managua. We enjoyed mass Tona on the beach at Carlitos, more food to die for at Finca Mystica and then to bed for the mornings Volcanoe hike. 7 am bizzles.
Day 4 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee and a 65-year-old guide with a 24-year-old wife striding up the road to lead us happy suckers on a 16km hike up a 4,000 foot volcanoe. We started from 100 feet, so let´s call it a 3,900-foot ascent. After our near heat exhaustion on the 3km waterfall hike, we all thought our hours were numbered. BUT, MAN, we couldn´t have hiked this volcanoe any better. Mando scampered up the slope, Eric waltzed up the ridge, Joy jogged through the jungle and I prowled the pinnacle. Shoot, the only one who didn´t make it was the guide´s much younger, 24-year-old wife. Apparently, asthma does not suit a moutain climber. Seriously, she was an asthmatic and she hoped to join her 65-year-old, chian smoking, immortal up this and the other volcanoe 4-5 times per week. I think not. By the way...we drank mass Tona upon strolling back to camp AND Eric & I had enough left in the tank to do some Ometepe-style laundry in the lake before dinner. We´re talking rocks, soap and lake water just as the local do.
Day 5 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, pay the tab and bid bien viaje to Ryan and Angie. Couldn´t have had a better time for our first several days together, and we decided not only would we do Granada BUT we would mix in a bit of beach time in San Juan del sur. A short boat ride, complete with a Spanish-viewing of the American movie classic Sparticus, and we were cruising at 60km per hour in a taxi to San Juan Del Sur. We decided posted up and bedded down in the Gran Oceano. After suffering a brief panic attack, numerous shakes, cold sweats and siezures over the cost ($45 per night per couple), I relaxed and was able to enjoy the AC, pool and sweet hot shower. Shit, the water was too hot. I had to ask that it be turned down. WOW! We looked into a sunset cruise for the next day, bought some Tona and relaxed by the pool until heading out to dinner & ice cream. It was to bed fairly early, as we anticipated a long day of beach sitting, relaxing, sunset cruising and, of course, Tona drinking.
Day 6 - breakfast, not as many veggie options, no french press coffee, BUT FREE and included in the room cost. Our original sunset cruise was auctioned off to some private party for, no doubt, more than our $10 per person price, and we were forced to look for other boatmen. No shortage, and we found a couple ready to take us ´criusing´ at 2 pm. We´d be back by 7 pm, and they boasted snorkling, something our other cruise company did not offer. We felt good and went down to the beach to drink Tona. Our boat left at 2 pm on the button thus beginning our cruise. Turns out, our cruise, looked much more like 2 local fisherman taking 4 tourists out on the afternoon leg of their normal fishing day. We helped them bait hooks, we helped them reel in tuna & mackrel, we baited more hooks and fished for snappper, the sea was rough, we trolled slowly and we all wondered ´when do we snorkle.´ AND then we got to the snorkle spot. No joke, about 1000 meters off shore, rough seas, couldn´t see a damn thing and our fisherman dude jumped off the boat with a mask and some sort of hook. He said it was for lobster, but Mando, Eric & Joy agreed it was a shark deterant and opted out of the snorkle portion of the trip. I jumped in, followed our armed guide around the boat and, though not speaking much of the other´s language, decided that, without visability, snorkling not much fun. So, we jumped back in the boat, gutted about 20 fish and make tracks back our beach just in time for sunset. Not exactly as advertised, and I don´t think Mandy bargined for fishing & high seas, but an experience nonetheless. Plus, I got to keep a Tuna and had it cooked up for $4 at the restaurant of choice that night. Pretty funny walking around town with a plastic bag of Tuna.
Day 7 - breakfast, no options, leftovers from yesterday, half-cup of coffee, butter, no jam but the pool looked nice. We traveled mightly to Granada this day in a chariot of the gods...just kidding...it was a busted up taxi, BUT only $10 per person for like 40km. WOW! Joy and Mando bargined like crazy for that deal, and Eric & I said ´thank you.´ Arrived to the hostel Oasis in one hour, and were greeted with another pool, our own rooms and our own bathrooms. NICE. Decided we should purchase more Tona, immediately. We hung poolside, grabbed some hotdogs for lunch...yea, HD´s are big down here and plotted dinner as well as our activities for tomorrow. Those activities included pool sitting, walking ´round town, Tona drinking and a kick-butt tour to an active volcanoe, complete with hiking, caves, bats and the promise of LAVA. (side note - we found the Mombacho Cigar Factory this day and decided it might be one of the only places in Central America that my Dad might feel comfortable...they roll their own stogies, serve them poolside with scotch, Mombochitas (skantly dressed ladies) and Playboys for reading...oh yea)
Day 8 - no breakfast, free coffee, smattering of street food around the market, hot walk around town, poolside before Volcanoe tour. The Volcanoe tour was everything the sunset cruise was NOT. We hiked up the live Volcanoe Masaya and could barely get to the top because of the noxious gas spitting from the crater. We hiked the inactive portion to get a better view, watch the sunset and hike down to the caves where a mass exodus of Friut, Nectar and Insect Bats were departing for the night´s hunt. COOL. All this before seeing the eery glow of lava from the Volcanoe´s heart as the night blackened. EVEN COOLER. (side note - you can go to youtube and search Volcanoe Masaya Eruption and watch sick footage of this Volcanoe erupting with tourists videotaping in 2001). Check it out. We enjoyed our last dinner out, a little less Tona, as Mando & Eric had to get up at 4:15 am, and talked into the night about all the great times in Nicaragua AND the fact none of us got scammed for money, passports our lives. Take that US State Department Web site. Our chatting was soon interrupted by some high-school-sponsored spring break, so we turned in at about 11 pm.
Day 9 - Mando & Eric depart. Chris & Joy are sad, so Chris takes Joy to a baseball games where we have Tona, some kind of nacho and pig-foot potato salad, wrapped in a banana leaf. Yippee.
Until next time...Ciao!
CP
It´s 8:35, do you know where your Joysie is? That´s right, in the dang pool. We´ve been hangin´¨Granada-style¨ for the past several days and that means pool time. This city is hot, boyz and girlz. You need a pool and the Hostel Oasis provides. Thus, you are stuck with me for this week´s post.
Notice the title of said blog. We miss our buddies. Eric & Mando rock to travel with in domestic or foreign countries. (Even though bro is afraid of getting scammed by the locals at every turn...haha). They are some of the only people we know who can survive 15-plus-hour travel days via plane, taxi, boat, bus, etc., stifling heat, no-water-waterfall hikes, steep volcanoe hikes, more taxi rides, more heat and the general alertness that comes with international travel. All four of us do it with mostly a smile, and we had a blast.
I wanted to fake-scam Eric right as he left baggage claim, but the bastard was onto me. Joy and I were spotted immediately as those dudes exited the termial at Managua International. We were staying about 50km south of Managua on Isla Ometepe, a two-voclanoe Island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua (i believe the largest lake in Central America), and the hotelier, Ryan Cassidy, from Finca Mystica our Isla Ometepe hotel, set us up with a taxi ride to the boat launch. A taxi is a great way to welcome your incoming family members to Nicaragua, as you skip hours long bus rides & scorching midday heat. Plus, Mandy was psyched to sit shotgun and impress Martin, our cab driver, with her fluent Spanish. Joy and I were excited to travel with a Spanish speaker again, and Eric was in a general state of shock feeling certain Martin was taking us to some remote alley in Managua where he and his epidermis would meet the business end of Martin´s shank. We were only too glad to disappoint me brother, as we arrived to the boat launch in San Jorge. A quick 45 minute boat ride later, and we were aboard another taxi to Finca Mystica at the base of Maderas on Isla Ometepe.
The proprietors of Finca Mystica, Ryan & Angie, lived a better part of their most recent lives in Steamboat Springs, CO, and have only recently opened their 4-cabin hotel January 2011. We felt fortunate to be some of their first guests, and the experience was amazing. Mandy was in Xanadu. Angie was a vegetarian, so all of her meals included more than one veggie option. AND they were huge on sustainability, environmental conservation and resource conservation...uhhhh...yea...Mandy likes that too. No flushing unless you take a duce, shower at night if at all (there´s a lake down the road, man) and each meal was cooked mostly from food stuffs grown on the property.
In our short 4 nights & 3.5 days at Finca we came to love the Island, Ryan & Angie, the local people and the volcanoes that loomed to the west & north each day. What follows is the account of that stay and our travels to San Juan Del Sur & Granada.
Day 1 - arrival, beers (Tona), star cicle with the brightest sky any of us had seen since traveling to Hawaii in 2005, baby fresh sheets and a good night sleep after a long-ass travel day.
Day 2 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, waterfall hike (it had no water and proved to be the hottest day we spent on the island), jump in lake, all is good, dinner and local fiesta. Ryan and Angie invited us to a local Reggaetone dance at the junior high. This was a fundraiser AND the 5th grade graduation. The entire town of Meredia was to attend, and we had our party hats strapped to the chin. HOWEVER, the fiesta turned bunk as too many hombres and not enough damas showed up, so we spent the evening sharing mass Tona with the locals at some random cantina. 15 giant beers = $12. Eric and I both fought to pay that bad boy...haha.
Day 3 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, KAYAK around the lake to the Rio Istlan and saw mucho birds. I almost had a great picture of the magestic heron until our other boat mates decided to offroad the kayak into the marsh scarring all but the mosquitoes from there to Managua. We enjoyed mass Tona on the beach at Carlitos, more food to die for at Finca Mystica and then to bed for the mornings Volcanoe hike. 7 am bizzles.
Day 4 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee and a 65-year-old guide with a 24-year-old wife striding up the road to lead us happy suckers on a 16km hike up a 4,000 foot volcanoe. We started from 100 feet, so let´s call it a 3,900-foot ascent. After our near heat exhaustion on the 3km waterfall hike, we all thought our hours were numbered. BUT, MAN, we couldn´t have hiked this volcanoe any better. Mando scampered up the slope, Eric waltzed up the ridge, Joy jogged through the jungle and I prowled the pinnacle. Shoot, the only one who didn´t make it was the guide´s much younger, 24-year-old wife. Apparently, asthma does not suit a moutain climber. Seriously, she was an asthmatic and she hoped to join her 65-year-old, chian smoking, immortal up this and the other volcanoe 4-5 times per week. I think not. By the way...we drank mass Tona upon strolling back to camp AND Eric & I had enough left in the tank to do some Ometepe-style laundry in the lake before dinner. We´re talking rocks, soap and lake water just as the local do.
Day 5 - breakfast, plenty of veggie options, french press coffee, pay the tab and bid bien viaje to Ryan and Angie. Couldn´t have had a better time for our first several days together, and we decided not only would we do Granada BUT we would mix in a bit of beach time in San Juan del sur. A short boat ride, complete with a Spanish-viewing of the American movie classic Sparticus, and we were cruising at 60km per hour in a taxi to San Juan Del Sur. We decided posted up and bedded down in the Gran Oceano. After suffering a brief panic attack, numerous shakes, cold sweats and siezures over the cost ($45 per night per couple), I relaxed and was able to enjoy the AC, pool and sweet hot shower. Shit, the water was too hot. I had to ask that it be turned down. WOW! We looked into a sunset cruise for the next day, bought some Tona and relaxed by the pool until heading out to dinner & ice cream. It was to bed fairly early, as we anticipated a long day of beach sitting, relaxing, sunset cruising and, of course, Tona drinking.
Day 6 - breakfast, not as many veggie options, no french press coffee, BUT FREE and included in the room cost. Our original sunset cruise was auctioned off to some private party for, no doubt, more than our $10 per person price, and we were forced to look for other boatmen. No shortage, and we found a couple ready to take us ´criusing´ at 2 pm. We´d be back by 7 pm, and they boasted snorkling, something our other cruise company did not offer. We felt good and went down to the beach to drink Tona. Our boat left at 2 pm on the button thus beginning our cruise. Turns out, our cruise, looked much more like 2 local fisherman taking 4 tourists out on the afternoon leg of their normal fishing day. We helped them bait hooks, we helped them reel in tuna & mackrel, we baited more hooks and fished for snappper, the sea was rough, we trolled slowly and we all wondered ´when do we snorkle.´ AND then we got to the snorkle spot. No joke, about 1000 meters off shore, rough seas, couldn´t see a damn thing and our fisherman dude jumped off the boat with a mask and some sort of hook. He said it was for lobster, but Mando, Eric & Joy agreed it was a shark deterant and opted out of the snorkle portion of the trip. I jumped in, followed our armed guide around the boat and, though not speaking much of the other´s language, decided that, without visability, snorkling not much fun. So, we jumped back in the boat, gutted about 20 fish and make tracks back our beach just in time for sunset. Not exactly as advertised, and I don´t think Mandy bargined for fishing & high seas, but an experience nonetheless. Plus, I got to keep a Tuna and had it cooked up for $4 at the restaurant of choice that night. Pretty funny walking around town with a plastic bag of Tuna.
Day 7 - breakfast, no options, leftovers from yesterday, half-cup of coffee, butter, no jam but the pool looked nice. We traveled mightly to Granada this day in a chariot of the gods...just kidding...it was a busted up taxi, BUT only $10 per person for like 40km. WOW! Joy and Mando bargined like crazy for that deal, and Eric & I said ´thank you.´ Arrived to the hostel Oasis in one hour, and were greeted with another pool, our own rooms and our own bathrooms. NICE. Decided we should purchase more Tona, immediately. We hung poolside, grabbed some hotdogs for lunch...yea, HD´s are big down here and plotted dinner as well as our activities for tomorrow. Those activities included pool sitting, walking ´round town, Tona drinking and a kick-butt tour to an active volcanoe, complete with hiking, caves, bats and the promise of LAVA. (side note - we found the Mombacho Cigar Factory this day and decided it might be one of the only places in Central America that my Dad might feel comfortable...they roll their own stogies, serve them poolside with scotch, Mombochitas (skantly dressed ladies) and Playboys for reading...oh yea)
Day 8 - no breakfast, free coffee, smattering of street food around the market, hot walk around town, poolside before Volcanoe tour. The Volcanoe tour was everything the sunset cruise was NOT. We hiked up the live Volcanoe Masaya and could barely get to the top because of the noxious gas spitting from the crater. We hiked the inactive portion to get a better view, watch the sunset and hike down to the caves where a mass exodus of Friut, Nectar and Insect Bats were departing for the night´s hunt. COOL. All this before seeing the eery glow of lava from the Volcanoe´s heart as the night blackened. EVEN COOLER. (side note - you can go to youtube and search Volcanoe Masaya Eruption and watch sick footage of this Volcanoe erupting with tourists videotaping in 2001). Check it out. We enjoyed our last dinner out, a little less Tona, as Mando & Eric had to get up at 4:15 am, and talked into the night about all the great times in Nicaragua AND the fact none of us got scammed for money, passports our lives. Take that US State Department Web site. Our chatting was soon interrupted by some high-school-sponsored spring break, so we turned in at about 11 pm.
Day 9 - Mando & Eric depart. Chris & Joy are sad, so Chris takes Joy to a baseball games where we have Tona, some kind of nacho and pig-foot potato salad, wrapped in a banana leaf. Yippee.
Until next time...Ciao!
CP
Friday, March 25, 2011
A Day in the Life
We left our jungle cabin in Costa Rica more than two weeks ago so it´s high time I recount our time volunteering...
We posted a lot of pictures on Facebook of all the cute and fuzzy critters we worked with at the Jaguar Rescue Center. This definitely was a highlight of volunteering, but our time in Costa Rica wasn´t all baby sloths and monkeys. We worked our asses off, faced the challenges of living off the grid, paid ridiculous amounts of money for basic groceries, and at times, were genuinely concerned for our safety.
To paint you a picture of our time in Puerto Viejo, I´ll walk you through a typical day in the life of Joy and Chris´s time in the jungle.
Each morning at 5:30 a.m. we were awakened by cacophony of howling monkeys, barking dogs, and crowing roosters. Annoying? Yes. An effective alarm clock? Absolutely.
We´d lie in bed until about 6 a.m., convincing ourselves that we could get a few extra minutes of sleep, which never happened. We´d withdraw ourselves from our mosquito-net coccoon and prepare for the day. First we´d boil water to make coffee using our weird coffee sock, then we´d open the shutters in our kitchen to welcome in the morning sights and sounds of the jungle.
We´d enjoy our coffee and breakfast on our deck each morning. We were greeted by toucans roosting in the trees in the distance, lorakeets squawking, and howler monkeys calling out from the emerald green tree tops. Oh, and we always got a kick out of neighbors who had no problem singing and talking loudly at 6 a.m.!
After breakfast we´d pack up our lunch, our garbage (may I remind you, you can not flush toilet paper down toilets in most of C.A. so all t.p. goes in the garbage... sweet), and recycling from the night before and head down the mountain for our 25- minute walk to work.
We prided ourselves on our promptness. We were to be at the center at 8 a.m. and usually arrived 15 minutes early. The minute we arrived at work we´d throw down our back packs, and start the daily grind.
In the morning we´d grab a rake and start cleaning up the jungle leaves in the yard, a Sisyphusian task that we nonetheless found ourselves enjoying and apparently we were pretty good at it too -- is raking a viable skill to add to my resume??
If we weren´t raking in the morning, we were cleaning out animal enclosures. This was actually the first chore we did at the center... First day we met our super cool and chill boss, Joel; he told us to grab a rake, some disinfectant, and a few rags, and showed us the sloth enclosure.
In addition to two, three-toed sloths, living in the enclosure were a five-foot iguana and a rather large and one-winged hawk named Wingie. Entering into a cage with a bunch of wild animals was rather daunting, but no better way to learn than by diving right in, no?
After cleaning and spiffing up all the cages for the first tour at 9:30 a.m. we either continued raking for TWO hours, baby sat sloths, or kept the baby monkeys company.
Because the larger female monkeys preferred male humans (the females are alphas and considered human females a threat) Chris was on monkey patrol more often than I was. I was OK with this. I was a supreme sloth baby sitter. I know what most of you are thinking... how hard could it be to baby sit sloths?? Well, let me tell you it`s rough!
Two kinds of sloths live in Costa Rica, two-toed and three-toes sloths. Three-toed sloths are very docile and slow moving. They never attack humans and even a full-grown wild three-toed would pose no threat to a human. Two-toed sloths on the other hand are a whole other story! They have strong claws and razor sharp teeth that they use to defend themselves. They hiss, and move surprisingly quickly. Now imagine trying to pick up one of these bad boys using only your bare hands and a blanket!
At the end of our three weeks volunteering I was a master sloth wrangler. I learned quickly who were the trouble makers. Little Lola, a six-month old, five-pound two-toer caused the most problems. She was fast and curious and did not like being messed with. Shocking that such a small cute critter could be so terrifying! Then there was Andrea, a heaping chunk of a sloth who was ready to be released into the wild. During the day she´d sleep lazily in the sun, but when it came time to bring her into her night time enclosure she was PISSED! I was never able to wrangle her myself.
So while I was watching sloths, Chris spent a lot of time with the 12 baby howler monkeys. These little guys and gals were quite a handful! They´d crawl all over Chris´s head, constantly attempt to escape, and thought nothing of pooping and peeing on him! He managed to adapt quickly and in just a few days was best chums with the two biggest monkeys.
When the last tours of the day were over at 12:30 p.m., it was baby monkey jungle play time. The monkeys knew when it was play time and would gladly jump on the shoulders of volunteers to head out to their jungle tree.
Chris and I got to do this several times and it truly was an amazing experience. One day a wild monkey climbed down a tree, sat in my lap and started eating fruit from a tupperware container! Turns out she had been released into the wild a few months ago and was still used to humans, which hopefully will change, since trusting humans could lead to trouble.
So once the monkeys were out in the jungle, we`d head back to the center and clean enclosures, feed the animals, and make sure everything was ready for the next day... then we´d head home dirty, stinky and sweaty and prepare to start the whole thing over again.
So that´s about it for a typical day at the center. We did this four days a week for 8-9 hours a day. Would I do it again? In a second. In addition to working hands on with animals, the people we worked with were awesome: our fellow volunteers, our boss Joel and his buddy Eugene, and the other staff members who worked their asses off.
Chris and I did have mixed feelings about Puerto Viejo. Our mountain cabin was beautiful and I grew to appreciate the peace and tranquility of living deep in the jungle. Having very sweet considerate neighbors who went out of their way to watch out for us was also nice. What wasn`t so cool was the combo of high crime and high prices in the surrounding area. The two just don´t mix.
So that´s about it for our volunteer experience. It left a huge impression on us and will definitely be a higlight of our trip.
We really need to be better about posting on our blog more often. I feel like I´m leaving out so many stories from Costa Rica. Who knows, maybe we´ll write a short story about our experience.
Chris has posted about our last few weeks in Nicaragua, so we´re pretty caught up... we´re heading to Leon tomorrow and then will spend a few days on the isolated beaches in NW Nicaragua. Have I mentioned how much I love peace and quiet? :)
Adios mis amigos!!!
We posted a lot of pictures on Facebook of all the cute and fuzzy critters we worked with at the Jaguar Rescue Center. This definitely was a highlight of volunteering, but our time in Costa Rica wasn´t all baby sloths and monkeys. We worked our asses off, faced the challenges of living off the grid, paid ridiculous amounts of money for basic groceries, and at times, were genuinely concerned for our safety.
To paint you a picture of our time in Puerto Viejo, I´ll walk you through a typical day in the life of Joy and Chris´s time in the jungle.
Each morning at 5:30 a.m. we were awakened by cacophony of howling monkeys, barking dogs, and crowing roosters. Annoying? Yes. An effective alarm clock? Absolutely.
We´d lie in bed until about 6 a.m., convincing ourselves that we could get a few extra minutes of sleep, which never happened. We´d withdraw ourselves from our mosquito-net coccoon and prepare for the day. First we´d boil water to make coffee using our weird coffee sock, then we´d open the shutters in our kitchen to welcome in the morning sights and sounds of the jungle.
We´d enjoy our coffee and breakfast on our deck each morning. We were greeted by toucans roosting in the trees in the distance, lorakeets squawking, and howler monkeys calling out from the emerald green tree tops. Oh, and we always got a kick out of neighbors who had no problem singing and talking loudly at 6 a.m.!
After breakfast we´d pack up our lunch, our garbage (may I remind you, you can not flush toilet paper down toilets in most of C.A. so all t.p. goes in the garbage... sweet), and recycling from the night before and head down the mountain for our 25- minute walk to work.
We prided ourselves on our promptness. We were to be at the center at 8 a.m. and usually arrived 15 minutes early. The minute we arrived at work we´d throw down our back packs, and start the daily grind.
In the morning we´d grab a rake and start cleaning up the jungle leaves in the yard, a Sisyphusian task that we nonetheless found ourselves enjoying and apparently we were pretty good at it too -- is raking a viable skill to add to my resume??
If we weren´t raking in the morning, we were cleaning out animal enclosures. This was actually the first chore we did at the center... First day we met our super cool and chill boss, Joel; he told us to grab a rake, some disinfectant, and a few rags, and showed us the sloth enclosure.
In addition to two, three-toed sloths, living in the enclosure were a five-foot iguana and a rather large and one-winged hawk named Wingie. Entering into a cage with a bunch of wild animals was rather daunting, but no better way to learn than by diving right in, no?
After cleaning and spiffing up all the cages for the first tour at 9:30 a.m. we either continued raking for TWO hours, baby sat sloths, or kept the baby monkeys company.
Because the larger female monkeys preferred male humans (the females are alphas and considered human females a threat) Chris was on monkey patrol more often than I was. I was OK with this. I was a supreme sloth baby sitter. I know what most of you are thinking... how hard could it be to baby sit sloths?? Well, let me tell you it`s rough!
Two kinds of sloths live in Costa Rica, two-toed and three-toes sloths. Three-toed sloths are very docile and slow moving. They never attack humans and even a full-grown wild three-toed would pose no threat to a human. Two-toed sloths on the other hand are a whole other story! They have strong claws and razor sharp teeth that they use to defend themselves. They hiss, and move surprisingly quickly. Now imagine trying to pick up one of these bad boys using only your bare hands and a blanket!
At the end of our three weeks volunteering I was a master sloth wrangler. I learned quickly who were the trouble makers. Little Lola, a six-month old, five-pound two-toer caused the most problems. She was fast and curious and did not like being messed with. Shocking that such a small cute critter could be so terrifying! Then there was Andrea, a heaping chunk of a sloth who was ready to be released into the wild. During the day she´d sleep lazily in the sun, but when it came time to bring her into her night time enclosure she was PISSED! I was never able to wrangle her myself.
So while I was watching sloths, Chris spent a lot of time with the 12 baby howler monkeys. These little guys and gals were quite a handful! They´d crawl all over Chris´s head, constantly attempt to escape, and thought nothing of pooping and peeing on him! He managed to adapt quickly and in just a few days was best chums with the two biggest monkeys.
When the last tours of the day were over at 12:30 p.m., it was baby monkey jungle play time. The monkeys knew when it was play time and would gladly jump on the shoulders of volunteers to head out to their jungle tree.
Chris and I got to do this several times and it truly was an amazing experience. One day a wild monkey climbed down a tree, sat in my lap and started eating fruit from a tupperware container! Turns out she had been released into the wild a few months ago and was still used to humans, which hopefully will change, since trusting humans could lead to trouble.
So once the monkeys were out in the jungle, we`d head back to the center and clean enclosures, feed the animals, and make sure everything was ready for the next day... then we´d head home dirty, stinky and sweaty and prepare to start the whole thing over again.
So that´s about it for a typical day at the center. We did this four days a week for 8-9 hours a day. Would I do it again? In a second. In addition to working hands on with animals, the people we worked with were awesome: our fellow volunteers, our boss Joel and his buddy Eugene, and the other staff members who worked their asses off.
Chris and I did have mixed feelings about Puerto Viejo. Our mountain cabin was beautiful and I grew to appreciate the peace and tranquility of living deep in the jungle. Having very sweet considerate neighbors who went out of their way to watch out for us was also nice. What wasn`t so cool was the combo of high crime and high prices in the surrounding area. The two just don´t mix.
So that´s about it for our volunteer experience. It left a huge impression on us and will definitely be a higlight of our trip.
We really need to be better about posting on our blog more often. I feel like I´m leaving out so many stories from Costa Rica. Who knows, maybe we´ll write a short story about our experience.
Chris has posted about our last few weeks in Nicaragua, so we´re pretty caught up... we´re heading to Leon tomorrow and then will spend a few days on the isolated beaches in NW Nicaragua. Have I mentioned how much I love peace and quiet? :)
Adios mis amigos!!!
The Best and The Worst
We´re in Managua right now getting ready to head to the airport to meet Mandy and Eric, who will be in Nicaragua for a little more than a week. Our plan is to spend four nights hiking, maybe climbing a volcano, visiting waterfalls and relaxing in Isla Ometepe, and then we´re heading to Granada for four nights. We´re so excited to see these guys! We´re gonna have a blast. Unfortuanately, Poor Mando and Eric are gonna have a long travel day... they´ll get off a plane, get into a cab for a 2 hour ride to the ferry dock, then get on a ferry to the island, which will take an hour, and then get into another cab for a bumpy bumpy hour-long ride to the cabins where we are staying. I´m sure it´ll be worth it though!
So... back to Managua. We´d heard bad bad things about the city ... high crime ... dirty, etc. We had no idea how the city was laid out so we picked a hotel based on Trip Advisor reviews. The price was right at $30 and it had a pool. We arrived at the Managua bus station after a very very easy ride from Rivas. We had been told the cab ride would be $10 but the driver tried to charge us $20! What? That´s a lot of money for us! We eventually talked the guy down to $15, but still. Our hotel was far away from the city center and the airport. I was a little disappointed with our choice. Once we got our hotel we were pleasantly surprised. The place is in a quiet residential area, is very quaint and clean and has a fabulous pool. Oh, and we have cable, which is a treat!
We did have two very different and interesting culinary experiences yesterday. The first meal was, with out a doubt, the WORST meal we have had in our entire trip. Chris and I are honestly relieved that we didn´t get horribly horribly ill!
We hadn´t eaten much all day and just wanted something quick and cheap for lunch. There were no restaurants open so we headed toward the super market. In front of the market was a concession stand looking place selling "enchiladas." Sounded good to us. We ordered two for a total price of 30 Cordobas ($1.50). To our horror, the woman opened up a metal cabinet, pulled out two room-temperature fried tortilla things. She covered them with coleslaw and a soggy tomato piece. She then proceeded to clean off two dirty forks by pouring a cup of water on them and rubbing them with her hands. We should´ve walked away then and there, but we were gluttons for punishment. She handed us the two fried masses and we prepared ourselves to eat the horrible things. They were worse than they looked. Trying to crack open the fried tortilla was like cracking open a crab shell, once we did open it we were greeted by some stringy mystery meat and dry rice. We didn´t even bother with the weird white slaw and tomato.
Honestly, I can´t believe we finished eating the fried nightmares but we did and the experience will stick with us for a long long time.
Fortunately at dinner we had probably the best meal of the trip, and ironically, it cost almost the same as the worst.
We weren´t very hungry last night after the trauma with the football enchiladas, but we had to eat. Chris remembered seeing a sign down the street from our hotel for Nacatamales -- normal tamales except larger and served in a banana leaf. We decided to check it out. Walking at night near our hotel was not a problem, which was a huge relief. We found the sign for Nacatamales. It was posted on the porch of someone´s home. We didn´t want to disturb the family, and we were about to walk away when a man with one leg on crutches came out and welcomed us into his home.
The restaurant was nothing more than two plastic tables and four chairs in the entry way of the family´s home. Two shy little girls smiled at us from the kitchen and their grandfather waved at us from his chair in the living room. We ordered two tamales and two gaseosas, the specialty of the house. We made small talk with the little girls and their sweet cowboy-hat wearing grandpa. The cook of the restaurant was the grandma. She happily cooked us up our food and treated us as if we were guests in her house. Then she brought out the food. WOW. The delicious tamales were perfectly cooked and filled with stewed chicken. We felt honored to have been welcomed into the family´s home when they were clearly not prepared to serve food. We will never forget this experience, just as we unfortunately won´t forget our enchilada experience earlier in the day.
All in all, other than the expensive cab, we´ve enjoyed our short time at our hotel and our quaint neighborhood in Managua. If we ever come back to the city, we´ll definitely be staying at this hotel (Hotel D´lido of anyone is ever in the area and needs a cool place to stay!).
That´s it for now. Off to the airport.
¡Ciao!
So... back to Managua. We´d heard bad bad things about the city ... high crime ... dirty, etc. We had no idea how the city was laid out so we picked a hotel based on Trip Advisor reviews. The price was right at $30 and it had a pool. We arrived at the Managua bus station after a very very easy ride from Rivas. We had been told the cab ride would be $10 but the driver tried to charge us $20! What? That´s a lot of money for us! We eventually talked the guy down to $15, but still. Our hotel was far away from the city center and the airport. I was a little disappointed with our choice. Once we got our hotel we were pleasantly surprised. The place is in a quiet residential area, is very quaint and clean and has a fabulous pool. Oh, and we have cable, which is a treat!
We did have two very different and interesting culinary experiences yesterday. The first meal was, with out a doubt, the WORST meal we have had in our entire trip. Chris and I are honestly relieved that we didn´t get horribly horribly ill!
We hadn´t eaten much all day and just wanted something quick and cheap for lunch. There were no restaurants open so we headed toward the super market. In front of the market was a concession stand looking place selling "enchiladas." Sounded good to us. We ordered two for a total price of 30 Cordobas ($1.50). To our horror, the woman opened up a metal cabinet, pulled out two room-temperature fried tortilla things. She covered them with coleslaw and a soggy tomato piece. She then proceeded to clean off two dirty forks by pouring a cup of water on them and rubbing them with her hands. We should´ve walked away then and there, but we were gluttons for punishment. She handed us the two fried masses and we prepared ourselves to eat the horrible things. They were worse than they looked. Trying to crack open the fried tortilla was like cracking open a crab shell, once we did open it we were greeted by some stringy mystery meat and dry rice. We didn´t even bother with the weird white slaw and tomato.
Honestly, I can´t believe we finished eating the fried nightmares but we did and the experience will stick with us for a long long time.
Fortunately at dinner we had probably the best meal of the trip, and ironically, it cost almost the same as the worst.
We weren´t very hungry last night after the trauma with the football enchiladas, but we had to eat. Chris remembered seeing a sign down the street from our hotel for Nacatamales -- normal tamales except larger and served in a banana leaf. We decided to check it out. Walking at night near our hotel was not a problem, which was a huge relief. We found the sign for Nacatamales. It was posted on the porch of someone´s home. We didn´t want to disturb the family, and we were about to walk away when a man with one leg on crutches came out and welcomed us into his home.
The restaurant was nothing more than two plastic tables and four chairs in the entry way of the family´s home. Two shy little girls smiled at us from the kitchen and their grandfather waved at us from his chair in the living room. We ordered two tamales and two gaseosas, the specialty of the house. We made small talk with the little girls and their sweet cowboy-hat wearing grandpa. The cook of the restaurant was the grandma. She happily cooked us up our food and treated us as if we were guests in her house. Then she brought out the food. WOW. The delicious tamales were perfectly cooked and filled with stewed chicken. We felt honored to have been welcomed into the family´s home when they were clearly not prepared to serve food. We will never forget this experience, just as we unfortunately won´t forget our enchilada experience earlier in the day.
All in all, other than the expensive cab, we´ve enjoyed our short time at our hotel and our quaint neighborhood in Managua. If we ever come back to the city, we´ll definitely be staying at this hotel (Hotel D´lido of anyone is ever in the area and needs a cool place to stay!).
That´s it for now. Off to the airport.
¡Ciao!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Creepy Critters of Central America
Throughout our travels in Central America, we have been warned by many people about insects and animals that can cause horrible pain, debilitating illness and death. So, in order of smallest to largest here is a partial list of critters that can terriorize most those who visit & stay in the jungle:
- mosquito: small itchy welts are the least of our worries with these guys. They carry malaria, and what seems more common in these parts -- at least among travelers -- dengue fever. Apparently the first time you get the fever you usually just get horrible pain in your bones, a fever, delirium and other flu symptoms. Get it a second time, and, most likely, you're toast.
-chi chi fly (beach mite): this little guy is indiginous to Bocas del Toro in Panama. Usually the bite they give you is harmless, but once in a while, they'll burrow under you skin and the bite will turn into what looks like a mini volcano. It's almost a right of passage for locals to get bit by the chi chi. A local guy from Bastimentos, with said affliction, was staying at our guest house so the house's owner could take care of him. The guy hobbled around in excrutiating pain, constantly talked about how he hadn't slept in days and how the shots he was receiving weren't helping. He was going to try the local remedy of burning out the mite. This required applying a burning hot banana peel to the wound. In the mean time, he was taking copious amounts of hardcore pain killers. Nice!
-punching wasp: Lives in the Panamanian highlands. The sting they deliver feels like you're getting punched. Hard. Hard enough that you're supposed to lie down when you get bit because you're going to fall down anyhow. These wasps aren't deadly.
-shooting ant: Lives in Costa Rica. A bite from one of these ants feels like you're getting shot with A GUN! What the hell?! I'm not sure how that is possible. Haven't many anyone who was bit by these guys. Perhaps a jungle legend?
-black night wasp: A woman who volunteers at the rescue center told us about this little jem of a bug. Her friend was stung and her face went slack & she couldn´t feel her arm for a couple hours. Who doesn´t want to spend the evening with stroke-like symptoms.
-scorpion: they are all over the place down here and not the big ones, but the small deadly ones. Joysie found one on our window sill in the jungle hut on the second day. Fortunately, it was just a skeleton. It´d been dead a while, but we still tucked in our mosiquito netting at all times.
-spiders: various kinds. Some deadly, some not so much, others just hurt (trantula bites, mainly)
-SNAKES: At the Jaguar Rescue, Sandro, the owner, is a snake guy, so there´s emphasis on snakes during the tour. There are roughly 140 kinds of snakes in Costa Rica, roughly 15 are poisonous and of those 15, 7 of them live near our jungle cabin. I don´t know all seven, but the most common are also the most deadly. Ferdilanz (sp), a nasty brown, cream & white colored bugger is both agressive and territorial. It will bite if you come to close. The Bushmaster, a big sucker (6 feet long), deadly but not as territorial. It won´t chase you like the Ferdilanz. The JUMPING Pit Viper it poisonous and can jump at you. Yay!
This list will get added to as we remember and as others recount their own insect, arachnid and reptialian nightmares.
Sleep well kids.
PS - We just arrived after three weeks in the jungle to San Jose, Costa Rica for a much needed stay in a hotel with running water, hot water, TV and a pizza joint next door. Whoo hoo. Tomorrow, 3-22, it´s off to Nicaragua where we resume budget travels, Joy continues to live with cold showers and we meet up with Mandy & Eric on Friday. Can´t wait.
PSS - The next post will include a detailed account of our work at the Jaguar Rescue Center. It wasn´t all babysitting monkeys and feeding bald squirrels. It was hard work, and I´ve got the blisters to prove it. Stay tuned.
-
- mosquito: small itchy welts are the least of our worries with these guys. They carry malaria, and what seems more common in these parts -- at least among travelers -- dengue fever. Apparently the first time you get the fever you usually just get horrible pain in your bones, a fever, delirium and other flu symptoms. Get it a second time, and, most likely, you're toast.
-chi chi fly (beach mite): this little guy is indiginous to Bocas del Toro in Panama. Usually the bite they give you is harmless, but once in a while, they'll burrow under you skin and the bite will turn into what looks like a mini volcano. It's almost a right of passage for locals to get bit by the chi chi. A local guy from Bastimentos, with said affliction, was staying at our guest house so the house's owner could take care of him. The guy hobbled around in excrutiating pain, constantly talked about how he hadn't slept in days and how the shots he was receiving weren't helping. He was going to try the local remedy of burning out the mite. This required applying a burning hot banana peel to the wound. In the mean time, he was taking copious amounts of hardcore pain killers. Nice!
-punching wasp: Lives in the Panamanian highlands. The sting they deliver feels like you're getting punched. Hard. Hard enough that you're supposed to lie down when you get bit because you're going to fall down anyhow. These wasps aren't deadly.
-shooting ant: Lives in Costa Rica. A bite from one of these ants feels like you're getting shot with A GUN! What the hell?! I'm not sure how that is possible. Haven't many anyone who was bit by these guys. Perhaps a jungle legend?
-black night wasp: A woman who volunteers at the rescue center told us about this little jem of a bug. Her friend was stung and her face went slack & she couldn´t feel her arm for a couple hours. Who doesn´t want to spend the evening with stroke-like symptoms.
-scorpion: they are all over the place down here and not the big ones, but the small deadly ones. Joysie found one on our window sill in the jungle hut on the second day. Fortunately, it was just a skeleton. It´d been dead a while, but we still tucked in our mosiquito netting at all times.
-spiders: various kinds. Some deadly, some not so much, others just hurt (trantula bites, mainly)
-SNAKES: At the Jaguar Rescue, Sandro, the owner, is a snake guy, so there´s emphasis on snakes during the tour. There are roughly 140 kinds of snakes in Costa Rica, roughly 15 are poisonous and of those 15, 7 of them live near our jungle cabin. I don´t know all seven, but the most common are also the most deadly. Ferdilanz (sp), a nasty brown, cream & white colored bugger is both agressive and territorial. It will bite if you come to close. The Bushmaster, a big sucker (6 feet long), deadly but not as territorial. It won´t chase you like the Ferdilanz. The JUMPING Pit Viper it poisonous and can jump at you. Yay!
This list will get added to as we remember and as others recount their own insect, arachnid and reptialian nightmares.
Sleep well kids.
PS - We just arrived after three weeks in the jungle to San Jose, Costa Rica for a much needed stay in a hotel with running water, hot water, TV and a pizza joint next door. Whoo hoo. Tomorrow, 3-22, it´s off to Nicaragua where we resume budget travels, Joy continues to live with cold showers and we meet up with Mandy & Eric on Friday. Can´t wait.
PSS - The next post will include a detailed account of our work at the Jaguar Rescue Center. It wasn´t all babysitting monkeys and feeding bald squirrels. It was hard work, and I´ve got the blisters to prove it. Stay tuned.
-
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