taliasaurusrex

Parque Nacional Tayrona -Paradise

2008-09-25T22:21:00.000-07:00

03/08/2008
Was given a beautifully hand-drawn map and sent on my way with well wishes, bound for Parque Nacional Tayrona. Decided to go solo, so shunned the tours and got on the first bus out of town to the park entrance. I'd remembered reading that from the park's entrance it was another 4 or so km to the admin building where you needed to pay the entrance fee, but that there would be colectivo jeeps making the journey back and forth.

So, as soon as I got off the bus I noticed a jeep and walked towards it, enquiring with a couple of local dudes on my way. They told me that "yes, it would go up" but that I'd have to wait and they then pointed me towards a shelter where I could do just that. Cool. So I started walking up the road a few metres, past a police shelter, manned by 2 police officers.

They called me back and through my basic Spanish and their heavily accented version, they explained that they wanted to check my bag. Sure. I've had this before. They usually ask me to take things out, one by one, and check them over. Nope. A bit different here. He wanted no help, actually moved my hand away and proceeded to take every small object out of my pack (which was luckily only a day pack and not my huge "bag-o'-shit" which I'd left behind in Santa Marta). I wouldn't say he was "rough" with my belongings, but he definitely wasn't gentle. "Thorough" would be a better description. Nothing went unchecked, except my person (I just love saying that). I then gave him my passport and when he seemed satisfied with all of his checking, there was some brief, misunderstood communication as I said I was waiting for the jeep, then the next thing I knew, the officer who had checked my bag was firing up his bike (although I'm guessing it was someone else's because he pressed the horn by accident to start it - laughter), then I was handed a helmet with not much option but to get on. There's something about saying "no" to a man dressed up in army greens, carrying loaded weapons that just doesn't feel right.

So...I sat behind him on the bike, right on top of a sexy lady's face, and we took off. He took me (what I later realised in hindsight) towards the park entry office, but then just ahead of it and off to the side, to avoid paying any entrance fee. We got off, then I followed him down a jungle path, asking if it's been a busy day, trying to determine if this was a well frequented path. "Sure, no worries, very safe. Just if someone asks you where your pass is, say you lost it in the sea". This took a couple of goes until I fully understood (damn coastal accents), but in effect I'd paid this police officer the park entry fee and entered just past the official entry point where I would have been given a wrist band.

Ah ha! Nice and dodgy! "No worries, can do" I said (he'd saved me $2 on the ride up), then he walked me to the right turnoff in the path, we shook hands, and he bid me good luck before returning to his post (although not before asking me if I had a boyfriend, to which I lied, said I did, and that he'd be joining me tomorrow).

I've come to realise that there are 2 types of boyfriends over here in Latin America. Ones that are with you, and ones that aren't in that particular moment. When I told the officer that I had an Argentinian boyfriend (a lie, but fresh in my mind because I'd just been travelling for the last week with an Argentinian guy) he said "right, but do you have a Colombian boyfriend?". This happened the last time I made up a story about so called boyfriend . On that occasion when he wasn't with me at that particular moment, I was asked if I wanted one for right then and there. Again, I'm going to have to devise a better story.

On my walk further into the jungle, I passed armies of leafcutter ants forming 8 lane highways across the path, dodged flying insects that sounded like bomber planes, narrowly missing my eardrums, heard wookpeckers pecking away at the trees (they make me laugh they do), and saw vibrantly green striped lizards scuttling away from my heavy footsteps.

I made the hour long trek (relieved when I saw the first lot of people as I was slightly disheartened walking through this unknown jungle, alone, in Colombia), and came out in paradise, to one of the most beautiful beaches I've laid eyes on on this trip so far. No beach-front restaurants, but a long, white sandy beach with wild waves and big rocks jutting out of the sea.

I spent 2 nights camping just behind the beach at Recife, got taken to hidden beaches by a local guide, ran into my Argentinian friend again by chance, and basically swam, ate and slept. Alot! (although I didn't sleep very well because I couldn't fit inside the tent and it was super hot inside. I was sleeping diagonally and I still had to lie curled up. Twas a wee tent!). Walked to the next beach in gorgeous afternoon light and sat on a big rock, watching the ocean, the entire beach to myself. I've missed the ocean. I never thought I'd say it, but the Caribbbean can get kinda boring sometimes with it's warm, flat beaches (gosh life's tough huh?). Nothing like the wild energy of an ocean.

Taganga

2008-09-25T22:09:00.000-07:00

31/07/2008
Caught a bus down the road to a much more touristy, but significantly smaller and much prettier fishing town called Taganga. Managed to get a big, open room overlooking the sea and spent the next few days chilling out to the sound of the sea and Bob Marley (I'm still wondering if people realise that there's other types of music that can be played at the beach, that'll still create a relaxed, holiday vibe), and reading, and recuperating from many rum fuelled nights out on the town. Am loving that Colombian men can dance. Only wish my feet could keep up with them. Still, they're very patient, and don't seem to mind so much. Must enquire with my insurance policy as to whether I'm covered for inflicting injury on fellow dance partners.

Finally managed to have a hangover free day, so got up early and walked around the surrounding hills to the next beach. What a view!

Decided I was ready for a new view, a bit of "me-time" and to give my poor wee liver a well deserved break, so I said "Hasta luego, Che", to my Argentinian friend and hit the road solo again.

If my friend's accent is anything to go by, I'm in for a lot of problems when I finally move to Buenos Aires. My level of understanding droppped from about 60% to 12% every time he spoke. Oh well, practice makes perfect...so they say...

Cartagena to Santa Marta

2008-09-25T21:54:00.000-07:00

29/07/2008
Said farewell to my Aussie companion again, and left Cartagena with an Argentinian, from Buenos Aires, bussing our way to Santa Marta without drama (it's nice to leave the communicating to a native Spanish speaker, even if I don't understand his accent, everyone else does).

Got so excited to have a room with a TV that we spent the first night in, watching movies. (It's the simple things really).

Went to the beach resort of Rodadero and spent the day lying in the "shade" of a palm tree, strolling the beach and drinking tropical juices. Returned to Santa Marta in the evening, pink as a prawn, and checked out the local amusement park. Quite small, pretty pricey and not a lot of people, but my Argentinian friend made the whole experience so entertaining. Just watching him cling on for dear life to the walls of the graviton made the ride so much more fun. He was squealing with fright and I found it all so hilarious. So we did it again...and again.

Was in too much pain from laughing at my friend to continue (oh, my poor broken rib), so we left to eat some "cheap" street food. Ended up paying more than we have so far, so retired back to the financial safety of our room again. And telly!!!

¡Hola Colombia… Suramérica aquí venimos!

2008-09-25T21:14:00.000-07:00

25/07/2008
Almost one of the easiest journeys and border crossings to date. No real delays to speak of. Tiny propeller plane, that initially had us holding our breath and crossing our toes, but landed like a dream both times, putting Ryan Air and Easyjet to shame. Arrived in Cartagena, and got through customs with a smile and a quick chat, so easy! Then went to collect my bag. Oh. As soon as I asked its whereabouts one of the flight staff told me with a smile that it was still in Panama because there wasn't any room for it, even though I'd seen it on the tarmac as we were about to take off. How she knew it was my bag that had been left behind before I even gave her a description of it is beyond me. So, after I asked for a quick call to locate it for sure, we proceeded to fill in the necessary paperwork. The 2 girls helping me didn't seem too worried about my bag, and as they were taking my details and they discovered my name is the same as a famous Mexican singer, they began to serenade me with her songs. Bless! Lots of giggling, I'm thinking the formalities here are a bit strange, but whatever, so long as my bag shows up.

We finished for the moment with the bag dilemma, then moved on to the final customs check. This proved to be just as comical. My friend and I were stopped by 2 men in their army greens sitting at a table, wanting to check our bags (well, my friend's anyway). I think this whole bag checking thing is just a decoy to flirt with girls. They questioned us on where we were going, whether we had boyfriends, and if we'd like an accompanyment while we were here in Cartagena. Nice and professional boys! And a lovely entry into your wonderful country!

Flagged a taxi and headed towards a budget hotel, but beginning to display slight hesitation because both the airport staff and the taxi driver reacted with surprise and shock when we gave the address of our hotel, asking why we'd want to stay there. Anyway, being the penny savers that we've become, we stuck to our guns and continued to said budget hotel, and never looked back. It was close enough to the myriad of nightlife venues, the beautiful old town, and even closer to cheap food ( which we soon found out was a luxury in this part of the world).

We went out pretty much every night of the week, met some great travellers and locals alike, I did some much missed interpretive dancing with a couple of Norwegians and got some invitations for a night or 2 out on the town when I finally make it to Bogota. Starting to think that Colombians are lovely folk, and so far I'm absolutely thrilled to be here in their gorgeous country.

I had a moment of snap happy psychosis come over me and proceeded to take over 100 photos of Colonial architecture. No surprises there, I knew I would.

On our first day in Cartagena, we were led to a bar so we could celebrate finally making it to South America, and we got surrounded by 3 teenage boys, all with braces. My eyes did a quick sweep of the bar, and I spotted a few more metal filled mouths. That's the first time that I've seen that in a long while. I wander if it's because it's cheaper here, or because vanity plays a bigger role in the hearts and minds of fellow Colombians (am I in the land of beauty pagents? I think so). One thing's for sure, we've definitely landed in a wealthier country.

Ended up spending 6 days in Cartagena, towards the end of which we visited a volcano and swam inside, in its magical mud. In theory this would have been an extremely realxing activity, but I was so hungover I became claustrophobic and delerious, and found the whole situation so hilarious, I couldn't see through my tears of laughter. I think some of the folk trying to relax thought I'd lost my marbles. I think I did too. My friend ended up having to drag me out because I was stuck in the mud and couldn't move. Weeeeeee! Rinsed ourselves off in the lagoon, then went to a nearby beach to lunch on fried fish. Mmm...super tasty!

Panama City and our last days in Central America

2008-09-25T20:39:00.000-07:00

22/07/08 - 24/07/08
Stayed in a pretty decent hostel in a pretty decent part of town and found a more than decent supermarket (like a city of temptations that I haven's seen the likes of since I was living in France) that made us so excited we spent a heap of money and walked out with nothing really to eat except olives and dips. Ate all of it really quickly, felt sick, and then decided to stick to cheap local food in the future.

Visited the Parque Nacional de Metropolis, saw some wee monkeys, but much to my disappointment weren't able to see any sloths (even though they were there that morning, and every other bloody day). Explained my dismay to the park ranger, who then let me hold their stuffed sloth. Does that count?

Ran into a couple of Irish lads that we'd met a couple of nights ago, and on their good recommendation decided to follow them and walk back to Casco Viejo, the old part of town (should have known early on not to follow Irish lads). Of course, they took a wrong turn and we ended up walking down a sketchy looking road, towards a getto. It took us until we saw a man literally jumping up and down on the other side of the road warning us not to walk any further to take notice of where we'd ended up. Oh oh. Just at the moment that we looked ahead and saw a group of "bad boys, bad boys, what ya gunna do", a police car came to our rescue. They asked us where we were heading, and explained to us that had we continued along that road, that we would have walked out the other end naked, robbed of every last thread on our body.

Ah... So, we got in their car and they drove us to a safer part of the city, very close to the old part that we originally wanted to visit. We stopped for lunch (sat next to a sign that warned diners not to let their bags out of their sight) and STUPIDLY set out again following the Irish lads to the old part. "Oh, it's grand, we're staying near here,we know where to go"...only to be led in the completely opposite direction to our destination. We walked a way down a small street and were approached by a little girl, no older than 6, shaking her finger at us, and warning us not to continue down that street, and to turn around and go back. Just as we were walking closer to ask her what she meant, and man walked out of his house, towel wrapped around his waist, telling us to turn back, that it wasn't safe to be in this area.

This is where my friend and I said our goodbyes to the Irish boys (to the sounds of their protests "ah, no, like, now we really know where we are") and got in a taxi and left for safer parts. We returned the next day in a taxi (to the exact place where we wanted to go), walked around and saw the beautiful architecture of the old town and decided that that was the last time we would voluntarily follow the lead of two Irish lads in unknown territory.

We made it back to our hostel safe and sound, booked our flight to Colombia and said farewell to Central America. It's taken me 5 months to get from Mexico City to Panama City, and I've had the time of my life!

¡America Central, hasta luego y gracias por las memorias! Me lo pase muy bien en tu paises.

It's a gas

2008-09-25T20:32:00.001-07:00

Drove past a TEXACO petrol station, and the only letters that were lit up on the sign were "ECO". Kinda ironic really.

Plastic Bags and Elephant Steps

2008-09-25T20:29:00.000-07:00

21/07/08
I am officially sick of sharing a bunkbed in a dormroom with people who don't understand the concept of respect, who have never lived out of home, and whose mummy and daddy are paying for their life-altering volunteer experience in the comparatively safe country of Costa Rica. These kids in this room have even asked for some extra cash so they can "get away from it all" and don't understand that you don't need to turn on the light before 6am and repack everything you own into plastic bags whilst talking shit really loudly and stamping heavily back and forth...all the while, everyone else in the room is sleeping.

Bocas del Toro, I'm sorry I never gave you a chance

2008-09-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

Am starting to get bored of my broken rib now. Not a whole lot I can do on an island with this thing. Can't swim, so can't snorkel, can't paddle a kayak, can't even lie down on the sand comfortably. Am executing the sidewards-roll manouvre to get up and am feeling like a bit of a dick! So... decided to leave Bocas del Toro after only a day. Heard great things about this place when I left (always the way) but didn't feel like hanging round for very long when I was there. Felt nearly twice the age of everyone in the dorm too (where are all the old bastards?).

And...I wanna know...why does everyone working in hostels on the coast always have such an attitude problem. They're so busy being cool it's like they're doing you a favour if they serve you, let alone smile (unless you're 15 and half naked of course). It doesn't seem to happen so much inland. It must be something in the water...

Boquete

2008-09-25T19:40:00.000-07:00

Mi Jardin es Tu Jardin

Mi Jardin es Tu Jardin

Quetzal Trail (Sendero Los Quetzales)

Quetzal Trail (Sendero Los Quetzales)

Quetzal Trail (Sendero Los Quetzales)

Quetzal Trail (Sendero Los Quetzales) - cloud forest

Boquete. So pretty. I really enjoyed my time there, rain and all. I went on several walks; through the town, out of town past coffee and banana plantations, and into the cloud forest. I was stopped by local kids on my walk out of town, who wanted me to take their photos, and asked only to see it when it was taken. Their sweet smiles had me glowing on the inside for hours afterwards. We love Kodak moments!

And, I finally got active and decided to walk the Quetzal Trail. Unfortunately I started us on a bad note (or a tiring one at least) with my bad taxi bargaining powers. I was nominated as the official Spanish/English translator (a very bad idea when it involves understanding directions or any important information) which got us dropped off 3km from the start of the trail, at the bottom of an incredibly steep road (which ended up being the hardest 3km of the entire treck) only to save $1. By the time we reached the start of the trail, I would have happily paid at least $5 not to have walked that bastard of a hill and save my energy for the actual Trail.

We saw a fat rodent and were lucky enough to spot some monkeys playing up in the trees. No quetzals though, but I think we were out in the wrong part of the year.

Didn't really give much thought to my broken rib when I set off, but was constantly reminded of it throughout the treck. Had nauseating pain when I had to pull myself up onto the stairs and thought I was going to pass out or vomit. Yay...fun!. The only way I could fill my lungs with oxygen was if I was doubled-over, perpendicular to my legs. The combination of my rib and the altitude (and, yeah...my... ahem...level of fitness) made it slightly more difficult than it really needed to be.

We walked to the lookout, looked out, and saw...clouds (funny that, being a cloud forest and all!) The walk back was a delight, except for having to spend a couple of hours in heavy rain with a "waterproof" jacket that really is not. Arrived back to the hostel and had my first warm shower in ages. Mmmmm...nearly hot!

Visited "Mi Jardin es Tu Jardin". This garden is like something out of Alice in Wonderland. I spoke to one of the guys working there and it turns out that the man who owns the house has a lot of money, loves his garden, and wants to share his joy with as many people as he can. Weeeeeeeeeeee!!!! I felt like I could have skipped over a rainbow when I left his magical land.

Didn't end up going on a tour of a coffee factory, but was just as happy smelling the coffee from the coffee roasting factory as I strolled through the surrounding hills. Sweet, sweet coffee...

Adios Costa Rica... Hola Panama

2008-09-25T19:25:00.000-07:00

Arrived solo in San Jose, had no idea where to go. Landed in a typical backpacker hostel. Really wished I could afford my own room. Checked out a couple of cool contemporary art galleries, walked downtown (ugly, ugly), and walked past a comtemporary dance company in practice. Got the feeling that there'd be a nice creative vibe in this city, that the average tourist would never get to witness. I saw it only by peeking through a semi-closed curtain.

17/07/08
Got to the bus stop without a ticket just as the sun was busting a move, and got the last seat on the bus. Fate was in agreeance with me that I should get out of this town.

The border crossing was cruisy, friendly and practically trouble free. My only gripe is that the bus drove off ahead of us, leaving us to walk across the border in the pouring rain, only to get back on board 200m further down...wet!

Decided to jump straight on another bus when I landed n Panama and head out to the cooler mountain climate of Boquete. Arrived in the late arvo, and checked in to a crazy hostel (where the owner made me feel like I had ADD too).

Already feel more relaxed in this seemingly pretty town.

Brasilito's rodeo madness

2008-08-05T14:35:00.000-07:00

Playa Tamarindo

Checked in to our new hostel at Playa Tamarindo and spent the next few days swimming, reading dancing, dancing and more dancing...and recovering from a series of mammoth hangovers (couldn't afford the good rum so settled for second - or fifth- best. Always a mistake). Already missing Nicaraguan rum. Didn't get much of a culture fix in this part of the world (lots of surf shops, boutiques, cafes and tourists), but...we did make it to a rodeo...

Heard there was a rodeo in a small town called Brasilito, so a bunch of us taxi'd out there and watched the crazy evening's events unfold. It was the National Championships, and the riders were wearing their funky matching outfits. Our crazy Norwegian friend had set his mind to riding a bull, for the first time in his life, here at this National Championship. He had a look of determination (and sheer Norwegian craziness) in his eye that made it impossible to change his mind. Here began my uneasiness for the evening.

We watched our friend's eager communication with the owner of the bulls, lots of laughing and passing of comments like "what a crazy fucker" (in Spanish of course) back and forth. Very luckily, at the last minute, he was talked out of it, and offered a visit to the farm of the bull owner later in the week, where he could ride to his heart's content, with a slightly less agressive bull than what was on offer this evening. Phew!

So, we took our seats behind the ring ("Phew!" again) and started to witness the effects of the evening's (and all afternoon's) alcohol consumption... punters and riders alike. Crazy! How on earth can they have their quick, life-saving defences when they're drunk? Exactly!

The first bull broke out, rider atop, and low and behold...he could ride that sucker! He was being thrashed about, like I've never seen, way more than on one of those mechanical things, and look mum! No hands! As much as I don't like to see animals used and abused...this guy was good! And...he survived. Made it off safely, was given a huge applause, and left centre stage for the downward spiral of health and general well-being.

We witnessed much more thrashing that evening, but unfortunately not so positive in nature. There proceeded to be 4 or 5 (I'm slight on details, I think shock has prevented me from recalling exact numbers) men in various states of unconsciousness who were taken away by ambulances. A few who would wake up, sore...very sore, but alive. Another would wake (hopefully) with a broken neck, perhaps never to move again (and possibly with several crushed ribs, as he was sat upon by a bull after we heard his neck snap), and another would wake with a hole where his intact kidney once was. He was the man who befriended our posse that evening. He tried (successfully) he get our crazy Norwegian friend into the ring, to wave a flag in the face of the bull, and then managed to get what seemed like half of the spectators in our area to buy him a beer. He was so, so drunk, I began to cringe every time he approached a bull, watching his reflexes slow to a speed that you could see would lead to an accident bigger than he was ready for. His last hoorah in the ring was when he stumbled towards a bull, huge, snorting and pissed off, red tablecloth in hand that he'd knicked earlier that night from the nearby restaurant. The bull rammed him, he fell, he was instantly unconscious. Never before have I seen anyone lose consciousness so quickly, and then to have absolutely no self defence and be trampled on repeatedly, impaled, and then thrown into the air at a height which looked like the next day would bring a new meaning to the word "pain". I think it was made all the worse by the fact that this was the man who we'd spent most of the evening with (albeit trying to lose him and not encourage his show-off antics). To this day I have no idea if he woke up, and if so, with what injuries. Needless to say, if he does make it back to good health again, I don't doubt for a second that he'll be back in the ring for round 2...beer in hand, grin as big as you like! Ready for the fun to begin again...

Bling baby!

2008-08-05T14:29:00.000-07:00

As soon as we both woke up from our powernap on the bus, not long after crossing the border into Costa Rica we instantly noticed change. People were better dressed, dared to wear their jewellery and mp3 players in public without fear of being robbed, the buses had rubbish-bins in them, and there was no pollution to be seen by the side of the road. To this day I'm still not sure whether this is a result of enthusiastic clean-up efforts, or the result of a very effective education campaign. Whatever the reason, it was a real joy to see. The people were super friendly and keen to offer assistance, and we were escorted to our next bus, bound for our Costan Rican beach experience.

Nicaragua to Costa Rica

2008-08-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

12/07/2008
Caught the buses and taxis we needed to to get to the border, then when we got out and the first of the crowd started telling us where to go and offering to show us the way, I thought "no, we don't need to be lead 10 metres away only to have to pay an exhorbitant tip", so I shooed them all away and we started our walk to the border. Coudn't quite figure out what the big queue was when we were leaving Nicaragua, and could only see signs referring to arrivals, not departures. So, we kept walking and 1 km later reached the Costa Rican entry point (so, so hot and sweaty and not enjoying carrying 20kg 'bag o' shit). As soon as we got there we saw a mammoth queue, that looked to take a couple of hours to get through. We thought we'd be safe and ask a fellow traveller the procedure, and she showed us her exit stamp...Oh! So that's what that queue was for. Crap!

So...we walked all the way back, waited for our passports to get stamped, then walked the kilometer back to the Costa Rican border and waited in the sun for another hour. Oh what fun! Realised that that's the longest I can walk (or waddle) with my 'bag o' shit' without stopping. We took a bet as to how long we thought the queue would take, and luckily for us the eternal optimist (me) came a close second, saving us all another hour of waiting.

Jumped onto another bus and headed over the border to Costa Rica. Very, very sleepy.

You just know when you're at the beach

2008-08-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

10/07/2008
Continued down to the coast again, this time to a place called San Juan del Sur. Checked into an old hotel that would have been quite lovely in it's hayday. Our windowless room could have been anywhere in the world, but somehow we both knew that we were across the road from the beach, so had no hesitations spending hours indoors reading and passing the time.

Tried my luck at surfing again, and and had such a great time. Caught a lift out to remote Playa El Romanso, with only a few folk sharing the same waves, and a perfect break for a beginner on a longboard. What luck! After 20 inutes or so a local guy swam up to me and asked if he could give me some advice. Of course!! He recommended that I roll the board on top of me to avoid hitting my face time and time again as I ducked under the waves. Then he said "because you have been hitting your head, haven't you?" Ummm, yes I have. Thanks so much for the tip. So, I rolled and ducked, and managed to stand, if only for a few seconds, and totally loved the sensation of catching a wave, except maybe when I accidently surfed into rocks, because I haven't quite got the nack of turning.

Anyway, the day turned out superbly, me leaving with the most minor of injuries (considering what I'm usually capably of) ...only sunburnt knees and a singular cut from the rock incident. Qué suerte!

Isla de Ometepe - town of old men

2008-08-05T13:57:00.000-07:00

Caught the cheapo ferry over to the island, and sat down-wind of the boat's exhaust. Managed to get in 3 good, deep breaths and quickly realised why all of the locals had made our seats available so easily.

Unfotunately, our first encounters on the island happened to be old, expat men, living their dream, and hiding from whatever reality is. I have to say tha this kindof tarnished our experience here, and although it's a beautiful place and we didn't really give it much of a chance, it seemed a bit sad with some strange old-man energy.

So, after catching a bus to the other side of the island, eating beans and rice, then catching the first bus back again, we left this place, quickening our pace with eagerness to arrive in South America as soon as possible.

(wished my Spanish was as good as it is when I've had a few drinks ALL the time! Had a great chat for a couple of hours in perfect Spanish with a Swede who spoke with an accent from Spain. So easy to understand, and a conversation I would normally have in English. Hoorah! We have inguistic progress - if only when I'm tipsy)

Rancho Tranquilo

2008-08-05T11:38:00.000-07:00

03/07/2008 - 06/07/2008
Left León behind for a traquil getaway. Battled our way through countless chicken buses and arrived at our detsination: "Rancho Tranquilo", Los Zorros via Jiquilillo, in the very north of Nicaragua (although I took to calling it "Rancho Relaxo" very early on in the piece).

Arrived in the arvo to be told that Tina was out of town until a bit later and to make ourselves comfy. Had the obligatory refreshing swim and met our host as soon as we got back. HAD to hook into our rum as soon as she returned, to catch up with her and her several previous hours of drinking (she left us no option...really). She was positively sloshed, and a couple of us were wandering where our myriad of buses had led us. Proceeded to have an entertaining night on the beach, I then woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of crabs climbing over the base of the fan. I hoped they wouldn't grab my toes in the wee hours of the morning and scare the shit out of me.

Stuffed our faces for every meal, day in, day out, with huge vegetarian feasts - thanks Janet - (would be rude not to finish what was on our plates wouldn't it? Oh yeah, we served ourselves, I remember...but it all looked so good). Don't think I'll ever tire of beans and rice.

Met my favourite dog so far on this trip. Sweet "Canela" and her seriously ugly underbite. A face only a mother could love, but lucky for the both of us we met under the cover of darkness, so were friends from the start.

Tried my luck at surfing, but only had whitewash to play in. So exhausting, with no real chance to even paddle, just lots of board carrying and wave ducking. Watched our friend surf under a barbedwire fence, missing it by milimetres, and luckily saving herself from a possible need of facial reconstruction. The ranch we borrowed our boards from was built right on the beach, the owner not seeming to have any idea about coastal erosion, or seeming to mind for that matter. Not sure why the barbed wire was out the front, not going to offer much protection from the ocean, and perhaps not even a gun weilding maniac. Have to say though, that that was the first time I've seen anyone surf under a barbedwire fence, and will hopefully be the last...

Spent a few days doing what you do on a beach, then left Tina-the-Strange for Granada and more sight-seeing.

Arrived in Granada on 06/07/2008, and although it was very pretty, didn't have the same connection with the place as had done with León, so hit the road again for Isla de Ometepe (although I must admit that I did go a tad snap happy with the Colonial architecture before I left).

León - Rum and Rotten Eggs

2008-08-05T11:24:00.000-07:00

30/06/2008
Ran away from Managua as soon as possible and arrived in León, where one can stroll around town with ease, and even enjoy oneself. Had an older woman take my hand and guide me through the political murals in the centre of town, kept thinking that this experience would be so much more meaningful if I understood more than 30% of what she was saying to me.

Found a great street stall that had the greatest selection of vegetarian dishes. Ate way more than I could handle because it was first time the street vendors have offered me so many options. I fugured it'd be rude not to. Had to waddle to the bar afterwards. That's what I get for being overly excited.

Partook in a pub quiz with newfound friends and jointly won a bottle of Nicaraguan "Flor de Caña" Rum. This kickstarted my new obsession for the final duration of my stay in Central America.

A little mousie kept me awake all night, rustling through my plastic bags. That'll teach me not to be one of those irritating backpackers who keeps everything wrapped in offensively loud plastic.

01/07/2008
Rotten Egg burps. Oh oh! Anyone who's ever had giardia will understand my anxiety. This bout kept me busy for the next couple of days.

El Salvador to Nicaragua

2008-07-26T16:15:00.000-07:00

29/06/2008
Bus from San Salvador to Managua. Sat next to a man, originally from Guatemala, now living in Geneva, but does a lot of travelling for his work through Central America. Stopped at the first border, between Nicaragua and Honduras, and he was escorted off the bus and thoroughly searched and interrogated for an hour. His family in Guatemala were even contacted for verification as to his family background. He was the only black man on the bus and confided in me that this happens to him every single time he crosses that particular border, and nowhere else, and usually no one else is put through the same procedure as he is, time and time again, often by the same border control guard.

A bunch of young kids asked us for money at the border while we were waiting for our passports to be checked. I happened to glance down and notice that one of the small girls, no older than 5 years old, had a large bunch of rolled up notes in her pocket. She was carrying more cash than our busload was carrying combined.

Made it to Managua (the capital of Nicaragua) without too many dramas, checked into a hotel a few doors down from the bus stop, and the owner of the hostel pointed me to a sign on the counter warning guests not to walk around the area, even by day. So, this was going to be an expensive stay here as the taxis are hard to bargain in this part of town. I never did figure out if our safety was her main concern, or if there was some fiscal agreement that existed betwen herself and the taxi drivers. I wasn't about to wander the streets to put it to the test though...
Luckily had a television in the room, so was more than happy to stay in watching fillums (it's all productive when it's in Spanish, don't you know?)

El Salvador

2008-06-30T15:15:00.000-07:00

La Playa El Tunco

My room in El Tubo, Playa El Tunco

MARTE, San Salvador

San Salvador

Lago de Suchitoto

The sleepy streets of Suchitoto

Arrived in San Salvador, Saturday night, 21st June, 2008.

El Salvador, or San Salvador to be exact... what a difference, and especially compared to Antigua in Guatemala where nearly half of the town is geared towards tourism in some form or another. I left there not knowing what to expect and have been surprised on so many levels. San Salvador is a city filled with contrasts, all within walking distance of each other.

I took off on Sunday morning, to hit the streets, walking 10 or so km to get my bearings. First stop...the money part of town, and also the area where many of the city's art galleries are located. The first thing I wasn't expecting to see were so many ritzy houses, brand new 4WDs zipping around, and high class shops dotting the neighbouhood (Hilton Hotel and all).

I'd just come from the part of town (where I was staying - just north of Boulevard de Los Heroes) where the only thing that came to my mind was...The United States of America. Land of chain stores, drive thrus and super sized malls. An enormous world of fast-food and mass consumerism, the likes of which I've never seen on that scale before. Contrast #1.

From San Benito, through Zona Rosa and then up to Colonia Escalón, I made my way from the 'high-life' into the city, passing through the university area on my way. By that stage my imagination had started to create a mental image that couldn't have been further from the truth had I've tried. I assumed (very incorrectly) that the centre would be where the 'office blocks' were located, with lots of small, local restaurants, shops and a smattering of fast-food joints interspersed within the local businesses.

But...it was mayhem, filled with street stalls, music blaring, people yelling, chickens squawking and cars honking. The market stalls seemed to continue for miles, at times with only a foot or 2 of pedestrian space, and twice the amount of pedestrians that could physically pass by. I was grabbed by several people as I walked past, desperate to get me to look at their stall, men called out to me every 5 metres that I walked by, and mostly in English (I know I said I was slowly getting used to it, but it seemed much more intense here, with one even calling out in his gramophone each time I passed...I soon changed direction). To say that I was overwhelmed was close to the truth, slightly nervous...even closer. It was here that I was most aware of the recent civil war of El Salvador, and the continuing violence that still lurks amongst the poor. Contrast #2. I could instantly feel that downtown was not so safe, that tourists were warned not to go there, and definitely not to stroll the streets after dark, for a reason. What I didn't want, especially here, was to get lost and have to look at my map. I already felt like I was sticking out more than I ever have in my life, especially having not laid eyes on another tourist since arriving into El Salvador.

I've since changed navigational tactics and now ask quietly for verbal directions as opposed to opening my bag and looking lost, and have been offered very clear, friendly directions in San Salvador, and have even had many personal escorts to my destination (albeit without my asking).

In San Salvador, I was impressed by the museum of contemporary art (MARTE), and was super excited to find a hidden treat, filled with miniature surprises... literally (a museum showcasing a local artistic tradition of creating tiny 3D scenes and hiding them in an egg, or inside a miniature colonial house that you can open up to peek inside...surprise!). I stumbled upon a great, laid back bar (always a pleasant find), found a Centro de Cultura de España, which always comes through with the goods (this one had a great photo exhibition of Central American immigrants in the US), spoke with some really lovely, friendly local folk, and I became a big fan of 'pupusas' (hot hand made tortillas stuffed with refried beans and cheese), and stuffed my face in a local pupuseria for less than $1 each morning.

From San Salvador I took a short trip north to a sleepy town called Suchitoto, where I located more pupusas, took a stroll down to the lake and wandered around the plaza again and again...and again. I was keen to get out and explore the lake on a kayak, but no tours were operating because of a lack of tourists in town. I was told if I wanted to go somewhere with a guide I'd have to find a group to go with. This proved to be a tad tricky as I hadn't spotted another tourist since arriving. One of the difficulties of getting away from the hordes I guess. I stayed only 1 night, in a family home that rents out a room or 2, and when I returned in the night after my pupusa feast, the key I'd been given for the front door didn't work. I had several of the neighbours try their luck, but to no avail. So, I waited out on the street for an hour or so, and then just as I was beginning to think that maybe the family had gone away for a few days and I'd be locked outside for the night, a little boy walked up to me with a key. It had taken only 1 hour for word to spread amongst the neighbours, up into the main square, and to the owner of the house who was at work, who then got a young boy, her neighbour, to walk down and let me in. When I asked him how he knew I was locked out he simply replied "people talk".

I returned to San Salvador for another night, explored a few more of the galleries and museums, then took off for the coast, down to Playa El Tunco. It was super cruisy, and a great place to surf (apparently). I succumbed to the latin way..."mañana"...and never got around to getting on a board even once, but instead spent my time reading, swimming and just hangin out. It was such a nice change to be able to swim in the Pacific Ocean again, with waves and a natural liveliness that the Caribbean, in all of its turquise glory never offered.

When my week was up in El Salvador, and I was on my way south towards Nicaragua, I felt slightly sad to be leaving, and knew that there was so much more to explore, and so many great people yet to meet. But, I've got a new travel schedule to keep now, so it's on the road again. 12 hour bus ride, here I come...

Final weeks in Guatemala

2008-06-16T11:30:00.001-07:00

My home in Xela (Quetzaltenango) for 1 week

The Spanish School in Xela where I studied

mmm...beer!

And so I spent my final couple of weeks in Guatemala on more of a studious note, almost domestic, and even quite productive. A nice change from packing up and trucking to a new town on a daily basis, finally getting a chance to get to know an area, and have some decent conversations... in Spanish (which is, after all, one of the main reasons why I'm here on this continent).

I spent 1 week studying Spanish in quite a politically active and very socially-aware school in Xela, and whilst there I stayed with a "family". The "mother" of the family was a 78 year old woman who had only girls living under her roof (by choice), at times up to 7 Guatemalan students, only some of which were family, ranging in age from 12 to 25 (I think). I was never too sure how many girls lived under the same roof as me as they would come and go and those who were present at the table for meals would change on a daily basis. I often found myself asking several of them "Do you live here?". By the end of week I still wasn't sure.

It was in that house, with those chicas, that I learnt a lot about Guatemaltecos, their relationships with each other, their desires, their humbleness, their struggles, their big hearts and their religion.

I learnt that it was very unusual for a couple to ever speak to each other again once they'd divorced, that Catalina (the "mother" of the house) hates divorce, that diabetes, cancer and AIDS affects everyone in every remote corner of the earth in the same way, that many of these girls have had to grow up too quickly when they were children, that even when asked for their english homework to write about the house of their dreams limited only by their imagination, they would describe a modest 3 bedroom house with 2 bathrooms, a carspace and a flat-screen TV, that even people who have nothing can do so much for people who have even less, and that I eat more than these Guatemalan girls, of whom the tallest was at least a foot shorther than me.

From the school I learnt about the current state of affairs in Guatemala, and that the saying "When America sneezes, Central America gets pneumonia" is true. In the same week that the cost of fuel increased in Guatemala by 40%, so too did incidences of violence.

And from my time spent studying, but also meeting other travellers and locals, I've learnt that Guatemala can be a very dangerous place, and that, especially in Guatemala City (that I've chosen not to visit, I think wisely) it's possible to be killed for as little as Q20 (less than $3). In my month in Guatemala I still haven't quite figured out who the goodies with guns are and who are the baddies, and it never did fill me with much relief or confidence to know that often the "goodies" are 17 year olds with no arms training, carrying loaded shotguns.

I've been surprised to spend more on a good cup of coffee here than back at home, and have realised that all the good coffee from Guatemala gets exported.

I've learnt Spanish (in my second week of studying, spent in Antigua) through bromas (jokes) - the first word I learnt was 'bajas' (bullshit) - and from listening to stories that are hard to believe all belong to the one brutally honest but eternally joking man, Pedro. I've learnt about the monopoly the 7 richest families of Guatemala have in this country, from the chicken fast-food joint (more popular than McDonalds here) to the most popular beer company, to the bottle producing company, to the transportation company, all to avoid having to pay taxes in their ever successful operations, thus making them richer and richer, and further increasing the division of wealth in the country.

I've lived on typical Guatemalan cuisine for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and realised that I miss Mexican food, and that the word "vegetarian" here has a different meaning to that used back home (meat is often included, and you're best to avoid the chunks if you can).

I've learnt that folk from Antigua are also called "Pansa-verde" (green stomach) because of the sheer quantity of avocados produced there, and that when it's rainy season in Guatemala you you have to just get out there and get wet, or else you'll end up sitting inside all afternoon, watching the storm, sipping on tasty hot-chocolate made to a traditional Mayan recipe with a light dusting of cinnamon, listening to Argentinian tango music and missing out on everything (???!!). And...I've learnt that the young men here can be just as...persistent (am wanting to say "sleazy" but don't want to offend) as those in Cuba even when marrying for a visa is not a factor in their approach and subsequent conversation. I am now thinking this is the behaviour I'm to expect in this part of the world and am gradually ceasing to be surprised (although I must admit I'm the last to complain when they're "a bit of alright").

So, from Guatemala it's back on the road again, heading southwards, but this time with a new, restricted budget and a goal of reaching Columbia in 4 weeks. We'll just have to wait and see if I can actually move that fast (and getout of bed that early each and every day)...

Lago de Atitlán

2008-06-16T11:13:00.000-07:00

Some funky local dude in our regular bar of choice. Great threads!

Misty view from San Pedro

The narrow alleys of San Marcos.

The (sunny) view from San Marcos.

From San Marcos

03/06/08

Ha, I'd arrived in an apparently beautiful, natural setting, but with the amount of heavy rain that was bucketing down, I couldn't see the view for the raindrops. So...we led a somewhat nocturnal existence here, in San Pedro (as I'd been warned may happen).

Spent a few nights in the various bars, watched the rain from the safety and warmth of the inside of a bar, and had a daytrip to Chichicastenango Markets (Chichi), luckily on the first day of sunshine in what seemed to be weeks. The markets were great, apparenty the largest in Central America, and just overflowing with Guatemalan crafts ready to be bargained for. And so I did. 'Bag o' shit' has gone over the 20kg mark again...

From San Pedro, our crew dropped to just us 2 Aussie girls, and we went further around the lake to San Marcos. Ahhhh, the tranquility! Tried to recover from our previous few nights on the town by participating in a Yoga class at Las Piramides, a place where you can study for months any esoteric subject that takes your fancy, whilst meditating, yoga-ing and fasting (not so keen on the last activity, but each to their own I suppose). In San Marcos we changed our indulgence of chioce from cocktails to cake, and breathed in the fresh, hippified air with delight.

And...just as I was leaving there was an hour of sun, I kid you not. I was finally able to see the lake in all it's beauty, clear, blue water and all. Who would have thought?

Volcán de Pacaya

2008-06-16T10:57:00.000-07:00

02/06/08

Had the most fantastic daytrip to one of the volcanoes just outside of Antigua. This one was special in that it was very active, and you were able to walk right up to the lava flows, something so incredible, and so unreal.

Our guide was great, and had told me that he'd been taking people for walks to the top for about 20 years, and had really good communication with the local villages to know if the conditions were safe or not (one would hope so anyway). I initially thought we'd been pretty unlucky with the weather, as we spent 6 hours hiking in the pouring rain, not letting up for even 5 minutes. But apparently the combination of the heavy rain and the temperature had made the lava flow more heavily than it has for a long while, and that in fact we were extremely lucky to be able to visit the volcano on this day.

I discovered that my 'waterproof ' jacket is not at all, and was glad that I'd taken my friends' advice and purchased a stick at the bottom of the volcanoe, to aid me on the muddy, super slippery climb there and back.

When we reached the top, we could just make out through the steam rising from the hot, wet rocks, a red glow further ahead. After being told to take care and not to fall because it would probably be fatal (this is like inviting me to tempt fate) we walked over loose volcanic rocks, right up to the lava flow. The heat was incredible, and it was oozing so heavily, down the volcano. A couple of people shoved their sticks into the rocks surrounding the flow, only to find them disintegrating in their hands, It was hot, and red, and we were walking over real, flowing lava, and it was totally amazing.

Antigua

2008-06-16T10:40:00.000-07:00

30/05/08

From Lanquín we travelled south to Antigua, more noticeably geared towards touristm, but oh so pretty. The crew had already started split, so we had the obligatory night on the town to celebrate our time together, and bid the others farewell.

As it was continuing to rain for days upon days, my time spent in Antigua was more indoors in nature (hours were spent reading in cafes and searching the 2nd hand bookshops for something, anything to read). I did, however get to the markets in town, which were huge, and busy, and filled with everything you could ever imagine, and more. I had luck, of sorts, with my timing as I'd been able to catch a little girl of only 6 years or so, just in time to stop her from reaching into my bag and lifting out anything she fancied. I eyed her off, she looked me back, dropped her hand and then casually looked away and walked past me. Lucky...this time.

Lanquin and our beautiful stay at El Retiro

2008-06-16T10:20:00.001-07:00

The loft we stayed in at El Retiro

The pools at Semuc Champey

Sweet li'l local girls

26/05/08

From Flores, we did a bit of re-grouping, hooked up with a fab new crew (2 super fun Americans and more Aussies) and made our way to the most relaxing place I've stayed at so far, 'El Retiro' in Lanquín. There we swam in the 'fresh' river, indecently stuffed our face on the tastiest vegetarian feast I've ever laid eyes on, night after night, drank lots of Chilean wine, learnt the wonderful world of 'shake-face', laughed until I nearly wet myself, swam in the clearest, turquoise pools at Semuc Champey (which are amazingly sitting on top of a flowing river), floated down a river in an inner tube, and went adveturing in a cave that extends for 7km, armed only with candles and in our cossies and thongs, we swam through deep pools, shimmied our way through small gaps in rocks, and climbed up ropes and down ladders. All in a day's work I guess.

Tikal

2008-06-16T10:03:00.000-07:00

25/05/08

Woke up super, super early and went on a 3:30am tour of Tikal. I think our arrival was the highlight for me. By the time we'd arrived to the ruins, and had climbed the steps to the top of one of the viewing points, the sun had risen, but the whole site was enveloped in fog and clouds. We sat on the steps in silence, with a view of white, listening to the jungle awakening. The howler monkeys marking their territory is a sound I won't forget in a long time. I was just very relieved after hearing their cries that the sound was off in the distance. A safe distance.

Our guide was very informitive about not only the ruins and the Mayan history of the area, but also of the natural environment. We were told of the Ceiba tree, revered and thought of as sacred for many, many years by the Mayans. It's a beautiful tree, and I was even more amazed to hear that it's 4 main roots always point towards the 4 points of a compas...north, east, south, west. How crazy nature can be.

Flores - Guatemala

2008-06-12T15:30:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Flores, Guatemala after a 29 hour journey and 3 border crossings...with no sleep. So fresh am I...look out world!

23/03/05

It amazingly took me 24 hours to figure out that it only takes 10 minutes to walk a lap of the island. My sense of direction never ceases to amaze me.

Found cheap Margaritas (Hoorah!) and drank while watching the sunset over the lake. Have the fattest cankles I've ever seen.

24/05/08

Went for a swim in the lake just as a huge storm was rolling in. It was wild and tropical, the wind picking up huge sheets of metal from roofs and whisking them away. 'Twas a nice, crazy change of weather from the 30+ degree days with 90% humidity in Cuba, perfect weather to sit inside, drinking and playing cards with my newfound friends whilst listening to the storm do its crazy thing.

Cuba - Mexico - Belize - Guatemala

2008-06-12T15:19:00.000-07:00

I sat next to a Dutch couple on the plane from Cuba to Mexico who complained really loudly about how disappointed they were with Cuba (like a child who misbehaves). You can only be disappointed if you have expectations... I tried to sink down lower in my seat so I wouldn't be considered as sharing their thoughts.

I started to miss Cuba as soon as I landed. People watching just wasn't the same, especially in Cancún. Got on the 1st bus outta there, headed for Guatemala. Caught one down to the border between Mexico and Guatemala to be told that I'd have to wiat 8 hours until a bus would leave for Guatemala AND I'd have to go via Belize. Stayed awake until 3am, drinking Nescafe coffee (oh, strong Cuban coffee, where are you?). Got on the bus and was bound for new adventures. Wore all of my warm, cosy clothes so I wouldn't freeze again on a super-cold aircon bus and it ended up being the most unbearably hot, sticky ride I'd had in 3 months. What luck - especially seeing as though I had another 8 or 9 hours. Yay!

Final random thoughts from Cuba

2008-06-12T15:08:00.000-07:00

HAVANA TO TRINIDAD
I was really looking forward to being on the 6 hour long bus from Havana to Trinidad. I wanted to stare out of the window at all the passing scenery, rock out to my tunes, and possibly fall asleep. My excitement dissipated after 20 seconds however, as when I got on, I was seated in an aisle seat, the woman next to me kept sitting on me, and EVERYONE had their curtains closed (to keep out the sun) so I couldn't see a thing. It was super hot and sticky too. Crap! Needless to say it was a long 6 hours.

ARRIVAL IN TRINIDAD
I had someone waiting for me with my name on a sign for the first time on my life. I felt so very important.

MUSEO DE ARCHITECTURA - TRINIDAD
Spent 30 minutes running away from the "guide" who kept following me and trying to read out loud what was written on each sign so I'd have to pay her for a "guided tour". The chase became kinda fun after a while.

Back to Havana...my last days in Cuba

2008-06-12T13:54:00.000-07:00

The view from my Casa Particular in Havana Centro (Calle Neptuno)

After my time spent wandering the valleys in Viñales, I left with strong feelings of guilt and headed back to Havana. "Why guilt?" you ask. Because I'm a sucker, and when the woman that I was staying with told me that she makes her money not from the rent of the room in her apartment, but on the meals she serves, which I couldn't eat because I became too ill (especially to stomach another meal of the same salty fish that I'd been eating each and every night), I ended up offering her extra money not to eat. All because she looked at me with eyes that resembled a hound-dog. Sounds cruel, but is true. Wet, puppy dog eyes, that worked their magic on me a treat.

So, I was quite looking forward to getting back to the city, where the guilt hit me more softly, where eating with the family I was staying with wasn't an option, and where I could eat a peanut butter sandwhich for 20c if I damn well wanted to...and guilt free too!

So, I had 2 more days to see the sights I had missed the first time round, which were plentiful. My highlights were definitely the Museo de la Revolución, La Bellas Artes Cubanos, sipping on a mojito, watching the sunset over the Malecón, not at the Hotel Nacional, but at a more seedy waterfront bar, filled with big groups of older Cuban men in Habana Centro, the US Interests Office, which was completely blocked from sight by hundreds of black flags waving in the wind (very much on purpose), my friend getting whistled at at the very second her bottom was about to make contact with the step near the US Interests Office (obviously not a good step to sit on, so she moved away a bit, then tried to sit once more, then "toot" blew the whistle, again JUST as she was about to touch it with her arse...you're always being watched in Cuba), looking out over Fidel's old office, which is now Raoul's, garlic flavoured corn puffs, the Plaza de la Revolución, the streets of Habana Vieja, El Gato Tuerto (the bar that came with a very good recommendation from a good friend, and proved to be a hit, especially with the oldies - I'm not sure the old Italian man thought it was as funny as me when I told him he looked like Pinocchio's father, lucky he was intoxicated and forgot after 3 minutes...or 23), the Museo de Naipes (a museum filled with thousands of playing cards), the periscopic view of Havana, the street art in Vadado, the tour I took of the tobacco factory "Real Fabrica de Tabascos Partagas" and the fantastic lithogrpahy at Taller Experimental de Gráfica.

I think Cuba will always have a special place in my heart. It will most definitely be one of the most remembered countries I've visited, and one that made me experience such a wild rollercoaster ride of emotions.

As they say...

¡VIVA CUBA!

Viñales

2008-06-11T15:40:00.000-07:00

A gigantic mural showing the story of evolution. My friend kept thinking it was "revolution" so couldn't understand where the big snail came in to the story.

This place was so, so beautiful. The valley was footed by fields of tobaccco, cocoa and vegetables, cows trudged slowly through fields in the sweltering heat, and the salsa continued to play night after night in the town. It was here in Viñales that I saw the best dancer I've ever laid eyes on. He fancied my friend, she wasn't interested, but he was persistant, and after the flower he made her from his cigarrette foil didn't woo her sufficiently, he proceeded to show off on the dance floor. And what a show it was. I was so impressed I was trying to encourage her to dance with him, that surely she could look past his missing front tooth for the dancing. At least his determination meant that I was able to watch him for hours on end.

I decided too (woman of many good decisions it seems), that it would be a great idea to trek to to top of the mountain inthe middle of the day, and thus in the hellish heat of the day, with crazy guts from the street food I'd eaten the night before, which had also put 2 Swedish guys to bed for the day. Brilliant idea! I'm glad I did it though, because the view was amazing, and we visited a village at the very top that believed the water they were living above was sacred and had healing powers, and had incorporated this belief into their daily religious activities. Needless to say, I didn't touch it, I figured my guts could either get much better, or much worse, and I was happy not moving in either direction. I had enough movement ther already...

I did get a chance, however, to ask my young teen-guide (after he'd finished telling me what a good idea it was if we get married) what he thought would happen to Cuba now that Fidel was out of power, and was quite surprised when he said he honestly doesn't think anything will change. "Different name, same government", and he feels the rest of Cuba shares his sentiments. I told him the rest of the world thinks changes will happen quickly in Cuba now that Fidel's not in power any more, and for a split second I'm sure I saw him look at me as if I were a fool. I think reality lies somewhere in the middle...that vast grey area that's hovering above Cuba's political future. I tried to fill him with optimism, saying that the outside world was rooting for their freedom, and based on the media that gets circulated outside of Cuba, they're really forecasting positive changes for the people of Cuba in the immediate future. But of course he couldn't share my optimism, how could a Cuban possibly be exposed to these same thoughts? I've read their newspapers, watched their television, and listened to their radio. Why would their censorship laws allow that sort of information to filter through to the masses? This is a land of revolutionaries, you never know what might start the ball rolling again.

Santa Clara

2008-06-11T15:18:00.000-07:00

The location of Ché's remains. His memorial. A fine collection of portraits of Ché graffiti spraypainted about town. A sweet 2 bedroom apartment, straight from the 50's all to myself.

Unfortunately, also the town where we (us 3 girls) were stalked for 2 days by a weird looking skinny dude with coke-bottle glasses and braces holding up his high waisted pants. We eventually lost him on the second night after asking a waitress to intervene, but not before he came into the restaurant where we were eating, walked straight up to me and said "blah blah blah" in his Cuban Spanish, that to this day I still have no idea what on earth he said, and I'd really like to know.

Didn't feel super threatened though, as I was with a girl from Israel who proceeded to teach us snazzy self defence tricks, including one with a water bottle. I tells ya, we weren't empty handed again in Santa Clara. I'm ready!!!!

Ah...the music

2008-06-11T14:35:00.000-07:00

Trinidad. I'll always remember that place for its relentless energy, the music that never lost its passion (all through the night and into the next day), the mojito fuelled balmy nights spent dancing (or in my case 'foot-standing-on' and apologising), the sweating, the laughing, the twirling, talking drunken shit (in Frenspanglish) in a nightclub in a cave lit up with tacky, coloured lights, the hangovers, the salsa, the rumba fiesta that continued non-stop for 3 days, the reggaeton, the gorgeous woman in her 80's wearing an electric blue dress, shaking her bits like a wild, sexual being possessed by the music, the mother of the family I was staying with worrying about me and not going to sleep until I'd returned, safe and sound in bed (4am...oops), the look of joy on her face when she fed me the hugest meals I'd ever seen night after night, explaining proudly what everything on my plate was and what secret ingredients she'd put in, the tears in her eyes as she told me that she got a $1,000 fine because her last guest provided an incorrect passport number, her husband showing me where I was in town because the women "have no idea", the series of lots of little kisses the mother planted on my cheek as I left, the beautiful feeling of the soft, salty water of the Caribbean against my skin, and the tranquility there. The beach was a place to escape the hissing and the hassling. There were no financial transactions, and thus less opportunity to be scammed. There, I felt the most relaxed I'd been in my whole time in Cuba. I'm still not sure why it seemed to be a no-go zone for the jinteros (husslers) but was relieved more than words can express, that without fail, I could go there, and be truly alone...almost.

It was in Trinidad that I discovered that the safest people to dance with were old men, that I can't dance (especially not using my 3 salsa steps to dance rumba), and that I forget that I can't dance every night, especially after a few mojitos.

Still, I enjoyed humiliating myself, and enjoyed even more watching those that could dance. God damn they're hot!

Havana, Cuba

2008-06-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

We made it!

As soon as we landed everything felt different. The energy, the heat...time. I waited nervously at customs as I'd heard they're very strict and will often make you pay for 3 nights acommodation in a hotel (hundreds of dollars) even if you have a room booked in a Casa Particular (a family house, and much cheaper). We had nothing booked and no money to pay for a hotel.

It was all smiles, we got let through without even a question of accommodation and I even met a Dutch woman who laughed and said that she'd joked with the customs official and asked if he could recommend a place as she had no reservation. Times are a changing already.

The taxi ride into Habana Centro was great, the taxi driver giving us a tour of sorts along the way. We passed by lots of amazing, old cars spewing out thick plumes of black smoke, saw Fidel quotes neatly painted along walls, passed the huge sports stadium that's helped to create the world's top baseball players and finally arrived at our destination, Calle Neptuno. The streets were filled with people, sitting on their front steps, playing baseball with long, extremely narrow sticks and tiny balls, driving big old cars a tad too fast along the narrow streets, and saw a sea of tanned bodies wearing the bare minimum to survive the sweltering heat, laughing and yelling through the busy streets. We'd definitely arrived in a more sexually liberated country.

¡Hola Cuba!

2008-06-09T16:35:00.000-07:00

06/04/08
Had such an "entertaining" entry into Cuba. Waited in the check-in queue for hours in Cancún, Mexico, watching a group that were sporting a vast array of white lycra and pole dancing shoes (baps on display too), with an incredibly huge amount of luggage. For the first time since I left Australia I actually felt like I was traveling light. Bless relativity! Finally made it on to the aeroplane, and all the way to the back row to find our designated seats filled with suitcases. They were stacked to the ceiling in the last 6 seats (ours!). We were asked to wait in the hot, steamy back of the plane until all of the passengers were seated to see what vacant seats were left.

We were eventually moved to the front of the plane (no, don't get excited, first class doesn't exist. No class divisions here!) separated from each other, and went about strapping ourselves in. I sat next to 2 hilarious girls from Paris, one of whom was absolutely terrified of flying and the other that kept havig bits of the plane break off in her hand whenever she touched anything and a seat that wouldn't lock in place. She demonstrated for us what would happen if the person behind her were to push her seat forward and it went all the way down, squishing her as flat as a piece of paper. What fun...let's go!!!!

Then a man sat in the seat in front of mine and his seat was broken too and it wouldn't lock upright. As soon as he sat down my legs got stuck behind hs seat and the 2 Frenchies squealed "she's tall, she's tall!" and he had to get up and move to the only other spare seat left, next to more luggage to keep him company.

So...it seemed the perfect thing to do to have a Cuba Libre and hope we made it over the border alive...

I'm quite fond of the Caribbean

2008-06-01T15:36:00.000-07:00

Our room at Tulum

01/04/08 - 05/04/08

Spent 4 days relaxing in Tulum. We stayed in a sweet shack on the beach, invested in a couple of $4 bottles of rum and a 10L bottle of juice and floated in the warm, salty, soft, torquoise water, lapping against the white sand and clear rock pools. I sat in the middle of a gang (?) of butterflies, pretty black and blue ones, and watched them flutter about me for an hour.

Decided that the Caribbean is the lazy bastard's heaven (i.e. me). The water has such a high salt content one barely has to move their limbs to stay afloat. Just hold your breath a little, let your limbs float away and stare at the horizon.

Entertained myself for hours by playing dead and floating on my back and letting myself drift away with the currents. Then I sat on the shore, beach to myself, and giggled.

Chichen Itza

2008-06-01T15:30:00.000-07:00

30/04/08

Saw a fantastically over the top 'sound and light extravaganza' at Chichen Itza. Very dramatic, very tacky, lots of lights. Love the way they keep saying Chichen Itza with a very breathy "ah" emphasised at the end. Really added to the ambience of the show.

Spent the night in a very green hotel room in Piste. Woke up and smiled because all I could see was green.

Merida

2008-06-01T15:21:00.001-07:00

The party's over!

Breakfast at hostel in Merida

2008-06-01T15:18:00.000-07:00

08/04/08
Had a conversation (that went too long) with an American that paused a lot when he spoke, and involved his map more than necessary in his conversation.
Got told by a Frenchie that I sound like an old man from the mountains when I speak French (is that better or worse than a teenage boy from Normandy?)

Campeche

2008-06-01T15:13:00.000-07:00

Not a whole lot to say about this place, except that there's lots of cool pirate stuff round the town.

Coffee Addict

2008-06-01T15:11:00.001-07:00

26/04/08
Finally got beaten by my coffee addiction. Walked around for an hour trying to find coffee, and couldn't think of anything else until I got it. So, when I finally located one, I made sure I asked for a super strong, super big one. Think I went a bit overboard. Poor wee heart...until tomorrow...

Showers of Campeche

2008-06-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

25/04/08
Water in the shower ran out when my head was filled with shampoo. Spent the next half hour running to all the bathrooms on all 3 floors of the hostel using the last dribbles left in the taps to rinse my hair out. Might try conditioning tomorrow...

Palenque...faerie jungle

2008-06-01T14:48:00.001-07:00

Palenque

Waterfalls outside of Palenque

22/04/08

Had the most wonderful time staying in the jungle, drinking margaritas with new Australian friends, spending hours wandering around ancient Mayan ruins surrounded by monkey filled jungle, listening to howler monkeys (luckily off into the distance - scary noise!) and off-key Manu Chao and David Bowie covers night after night, and being waitered on by a cute boy called Raoul who caught me fireflies. What's not to love? Raoul could see me getting very excited watching the fireflies coming out to play as the sun was setting. I kept squealing "haditas, haditas!" (little faeries, little faeries), so he disappeared into the trees and came back with something in his hands. Surely not! Yay!!! He'd caught me a little faerie. He came over to put it into my hands, and my excitement turned into silly girly fear, so I made him put it into someone else's hands. Little wormy thing with 2 fluorescent, glowing dots that look like eyes. Yay! In real life too! (want to sit the cute waiter on my shelf and pat his head).

23/04/08

I'm amazed that someone can translate hieroglyphics. One of the most impressive things I saw that came from the ruins at Palenque was the crypt of King Pakal. It was so huge, and heavy, and old, and in such amazing condition, and was covered in symbols telling the story of the king and his date of burial. And someone can understand it today. Crazy!

04/04/08

Spent the day swimming in a waterfall, lazing on rocks in the sun and watching local kids jump off a rope swing. It reminded me so much of the good ol' days in Lismore swimming in the creeks (especially because I was with a bunch of Aussies). At that particular moment I could have been anywhere in the world. Such a great day!

San Cristobal daytrips

2008-06-01T14:20:00.000-07:00

The Canyon near Chiapa del Corzo

El Chiflon waterfalls

Montebello Lakes (near Guatemala)

19/04/08
Went on a boat tour of a Canyon in a National Park and had such a different experience to what I'd been creating in my head. I imagined slowly drifting in a small raft through a narrow stretch of water in the canyon. Ha!

Ended up on a speedboat with 20 others, all of us decked out in life-jackets, which probably weren't for aiding swimming but for protecting our spines every time the boat took off and jerked forward, throwing us all back. We sped along the wide-open water, only really having a clear, unobstructed view straight above us in the sky (as people were in front and on both sides, and every time we sped up, the front of the boat lifted, forming our very scenic view).
We were given a couple of quick photo opportunities, luckily of pretty amazing scenery, had a monkey and a crocodile pointed out to us, and spent an hour or so overtaking other boats fanging down the river. Pretty but!

Split from the tour group and went out to Tuxla. Visited a surprisingly natural-setting zoo, then made our way to the town to see some live music in the 'park'. A group was playing Marimbas (like wooden xylophones) and were joined by other instruments to make some great salsa-ish tunes (music afficionados will tell me that it was nothing like salsa but it's the only word that's springing to my mind in this moment). The best part of the evening were the old couples, dancing around the gazebo, dressed in their Sunday best. So sweet to watch.

Couldn't find a margarita to save myself, so decided to join everyone else and indulge in ice-cream. Had the most delicious lime-flavoured sorbet. It was lime green in colour too. Imagine!

Walked around for over an hour trying to find a bus stop to take us the hour long trip back (it was already pretty late and the buses would be stopping soon) because everyone kept sending us in different directions. "Ah yeah...it's 5 blocks that way". Starting to wish people would just say they didn't know instead of sending us 5 blocks into the boondocks!

Found a drunk man who said his friend would drive us to the bus station in their minivan, was very sceptical, but even more tired and just wanting to get back so we got in. They ended up dropping us to the station door, organised tickets, saw us onto the bus, and waved us off. Bless! This happens a lot in Mexico...

20/04/08
Swam in the most beautiful torquoise coloured waterfalls (El Chiflon) - close to the Guatemalan border. Passed a group of Mexicans getting baptised and singing and decided it would be the perfect place to stop and enjoy a coconut cocktail and watch.

San Cristobal de las Casas

2008-05-31T15:57:00.000-07:00

17/04/08
Ah...San Cristobal! Sweet, sweet place. From the minute I arrived until I left, it was just lovely, lovely, lovely. I checked into the hostel (Las Palomas - totally recommend it) before 8am (had PERFECT timing, a group of 30 Frechies had just left so I had the whole place to myself the first night) and the owner called over the girls (her staff), introduced us all and got them straight onto making me a nice strong brew of coffee and sat me down in the sunny courtyard and fed me sweet pastries.
Every morning when I awoke and emerged, sleepy eyed from the room they would call out "Hola Talia" and we'd go through the same coffee-sweet-bread fun. The shower was hot and lasted until I turned it off and the bed was super comfy and I slipped into sweet dreams the whole night through.

18/04/08
Went to a Museum of Mayan Medicine and was more than surprised to see the childbirth process (filmed). The woman kneels on the floor facing her husband, wearing the traditional thick, black wool skirt and the midwife delivers the baby from behind, not even lifting the heavy skirt to take a look at the baby coming out. Then she pulls it out from under the skirt, and hey presto, you have a baby.

Oaxaca to San Cristobal de las Casas

2008-05-31T15:55:00.000-07:00

Can't believe that I'm the only person who can't sleep for the entire duration of a 12 hour bus ride.
Or...more to the point, can't believe that everyone else can!

Monte Albán

2008-04-21T15:36:00.000-07:00

Oaxaca

2008-04-21T15:24:00.000-07:00

16/04/08
Dad...I'd love to tell you it's pronounced "Ox-a-ka-ka", but that would be cheeky of me. It's more like "wah-huh-ka".
Feels so good to be back in the world of gallery hopping, espresso sipping and random meetings again.
Got stopped in the street by a group of 5 or 6 18-21yr old girls who wanted to practice their English. So we chatted for a while about travelling, boys, food, boys and how they all have a crush on at least one of their teachers.
From some maternal place inside I felt the urge to protect these sweet chicks. "But no" I cried, "You can't...he's your teacher!"Lots of cheeky giggling followed. I'm hoping to have a crush on my Spanish teacher when I start my classes too. hee hee hee
You can take the girl out if her country, but you can't take the girl... out of the girl...huh???

14/04/08
Somehow got sucked in to having my profile sketched by some guy in a gallery. Said no a few times, but when that didn't seem to work, I sat down and awkwardly tried to look natural and calm. I was so relieved when the 10 minute sketch was completed, I don't know what in the world made me agree to a side profile.
SUCKER!!!

15/04/08
Ran out of water half way through my shower. Have a mowhawk on my leg. Think it's a good look.

Went to the free cinema in town. Thought I'd be able to understand the gist of the storyline if it was only in Spanish, would definitely be able to follow if it was an English movie with subtitles, but think, linguistically, I was aiming a little high when I sat through a 2 hour documentary in muffled Spanish about trade between Costa Rica and the United States. Not so easy to digest, that film.

16/04/08
God I miss Australia Post! Finally decided to offload 5 kg from my 'bag o' shit' so took my load to the P.O. hoping to pack it in a box and send it off. Not so easy...
The post office doesn't stock boxes, so you have to go into all the nearby shops and find one (and hopefully one the right size). Then after I'd found the perfect box and I thought I was ready to rock, I was told I had to wrap the box in manilla coloured paper. Of course! But they don't stock teh paper in the P.O. Of course!! Just as I was about to go off in search of the paper, the nice woman behind the counter slipped me a thin, fragile slip of pink paper and said I oculd use that (oooh, I feel so naughty!).
Paid my $100 (sending by boat is NOT an option in Mexico, only by air - of course, especially seeing as though it's surrounded by so much water) and left Oaxaca feeling light and bouncy...almost (very short lived feeling though, 'bag o' shit' still weighs a hefty 20kg).

Zipolite and a $6 kiss

2008-04-15T11:13:00.001-07:00

To another beach, but this time what I had initially imagined a tranquil, relaxing beach to be. No clubs, just beautiful waves, turquoise water and lots of walks and early nights...and sleazy boys!

Not sure what separates this beach from the others, but within my first 3 hours of arriving in Zipolite, I'd had 2 guys try to kiss me and a 3rd take his clothes off for me. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was a beach where nudity is commonplace, I'm not sure.

The young taxi driver (after me making up a story for the first time and saying that I had a boyfriend) asked me if I'd like another one for my time here in Zipolite. No thanks. He then offered me the taxi ride for free if I kissed him. Lets see...that's 60 pesos, about $6. I guess that's the most anyone's ever offered me for a kiss before. As temtpting as the offer was (not) I declined, exited, and awaited the next offer.

A perfect place

2008-04-15T10:48:00.000-07:00

We decided at the last minute to go on a tour of the local lagoon (Laguna Manialtepec), so when we got to the boat and started to make our way through the centre of the lagoon, surrounded by mangrove forests either side, I knew we'd made the right decision.
This place was amazing, and for the first time that I can remember I was completely immersed in nature and couldn't see a hint of urbanisation within cooee.
We put putted through narrow canals of mangroves, ducking so we could fit through the narrow opening. This was where the first Tarzan was filmed, and being there I could imagine the wildlife coming alive behind the thick screen of lush, vibrant green mangroves. I've never seen such an expansive area of mangroves before, I think they extended for about 15 km. The patterns made by their curving trunks, dipping into the lagoon was beautiful (if only I had a camera...damn last minute decisions).
The birdlife was amazing, and we had arrived in the quiet time, about 6pm in the evening. Apparnetly the morning is like another world. Such huge birds that I've never seen before, and really quirky looking ones too. Crazy! I love them!
We continued to meander through the mangrove canals, and just as the sun seemed to be getting lower and lower we came out to where the lagoon met the sea. We got out and sat on a narrow stretch of sand between the two bodies of water and watched the sunset As corny as it sounds, it was just like watching a bright red ball, melting into the misty mountains off into the distance. This place was paradise.
We sat in the darkness, watching the remaining light fade away, only to be replaced with millions of stars (again, I can't remember the last time I saw so many stars, like a twinkling blanket putting the sky to bed). Then, when it was dark, we got back into our dingy and made our way towards the centre of the lagoon.
Sergio (our guide) stopped the boat, tested the depth of the water (about 1.5m), then stripped off and dove in. He then started waving his hands underwater and you could see a glowing white trail following his hands and he was twinkling. Phosphorescence.
Without needing any further coaxing, half of us joined him and begain to play with the water. It was so beautiful, like having liquid stars dripping from our fingertips.
It's funny though, there was no way in the world that I would have swam in that lagoon if I could have seen around me, imagining crocodiles and crazy, scary things eating me, but in total darkness...out of sight, out of mind. It was lovely. And the water was so warm too, like bath water (a bit of a surprise seeing as though it was about 9pm). Apparently, the most dangerous thing living in the lagoon were mosquitos, so it was with that information too that I was so willing to play.
So we swam and we played and we twinkled, then we started making our way back to land again. Sergio used the torch only from time to time, and for the rest of the journey, we floated back in darkness, just being able to make out the sillouette of the mangrove forests either side of us. Besides the sound of the outback motor (spew, put, put) it was divine...a perfect place, and you coudn't wipe the cheesy grin of happiness off my face if you tried.

Puerto Escondido

2008-04-15T10:40:00.001-07:00

I finally made it to a place where I can relax. I ended up spending about 5 days in a deckchair, sipping on margaritas, watching sunsets, going for yet another swim as soon as I dried off from the last, eating seafood in the sand, reading book after book, and participating in a spot of partying (well, more than I probably would have imagined during my "relaxing" week by the beach...but it's holidays...what can a girl do?).

Sigh...

Acapulco...eugh, errr!

2008-04-15T10:26:00.000-07:00

I wanted to head directly to the coast from Taxco, and when I found out that the only destination I could get to by bus was Acapulco, I sighed, bought a ticket and resigned myself to the fact that the next day or 2 were going to be an "eye opener" to say the least. I was going to the Spring-Break destination of thousands of gringos! Luckily for me it was the end of their holidays and (apparently) most had already returned to their frat houses. It wasn't empty by any means though, and we decided to embrace all that the town had to offer. This ended up involving spending most of the day in a beachside, having anything we could think of delivered to us in our deckchairs, then going to the closest club to our hotel called "Paradise" where we watched with shock a mini Mexican J-Lo get up on a podium, pull her pants down to reveal pretty much all of her arse (G banger lost in there somewhere too) and start gyrating for the duration of the evening. We then watched some dude get friendly with her, and start rubbing his face in her arse, then watch as she spun around and around. Oh what fun! Nothing like a bit of family friendly entertainment to get you in the mood for a nice beachside holiday...

It wasn't all like an R-rated Disneyland by the sea though, we did manage to watch the cliff divers (La Quebrada Clavadistas) who were pretty spectacular as they dove into a narrow gap between rocks from a height of 35m. Now that's entertainment!

Taxco

2008-04-15T10:08:00.001-07:00

Towards Taxco I headed, with a spring in my step, as this is the land of silver, and every girl who likes silver jewellery's dream! (pretty town too).

As soon as I got off the bus and started following my own directions to the hotel, I got lost and ended up staying somewhere else with a lovely couple who gave me a tour of the town from their rooftop (too easy, no walking involved). I understood about 30% of what the man was saying to me (didn't have the heart to ask him to slow down so kept smiling and saying "si, si"). Kept hearing the word church again and again, so figured there were a lot of churches in this town (which ended up being not too far from the truth).

This town is so sweet. Narrow cobbled-stone streets meandering up steep hills, silver shops filling the town, balconies overlooking VW beetle filled roundabouts, and jewellery, jewellery, jewellery everywhere.

I thought about going crazy, but then after I realised that it wasn't actually that cheap, and then that one can't post anything of value in the mail, and that I didn't actually like alot of what was being sold, it was an easy decision not to buy out the town.

So to the coast I go...

Cuernavaca

2008-04-15T09:46:00.000-07:00

the view from the Regional Museum

the red room (Museo Robert Brady)

Architecture of Cuernavaca

So, with a hint of sadness, I said adios to Mexico City and the great folk I met there, and travelled just a little further south to Cuernavaca.
I was a bit surprised by the so called "relaxing" plaza in town. There were so many birds, swooping and shitting all over the shop, that one could hardly hear themselves think, let alone relax.
But, what I did find in this town was Museo Robert Brady (the old residence of an American artist, and avid purchaser of art). It was so gorgeous, art crammed into every orifice, with every colour from the rainbow featured throughout the house, a different colour choice for every room. Ah...I could so imagine living in a place like this! The art that he'd collected over the years was so inspiring too, from such a diverse selection of artists (Diego Riveira included) and masks from all over the world. Such a shame that my 'bag o' shit' is so damn heavy already, because I'd quite like to start a collection like this myself.
Stopped to buy a juice from a gazebo in the centre (which was apparently designed by the guy who designed the Eiffel Tower) and the 2 women inside the small space were completely surrounded by bees (mmm..sweet, sweet fruit). Risky business!

Teotihuacan

2008-03-31T10:44:00.000-07:00

Mexico City

2008-03-31T10:35:00.000-07:00

Inside the Museo de Arte Moderno
Inside the Museo de Arte Moderno

Museo Rufino Tamayo

1982

2008-03-30T18:00:00.000-07:00

Bought a new hoodie to replace "jacket #2 - missing in action". Bought one with 1982 on the front, and have decided that my new age here in Mexico is 26.

Excellent, I feel more refreshed already!

¿Tienes novio?

2008-03-30T17:57:00.000-07:00

Have found it quite surprising that the 1st or 2nd question I get asked by anyone (guy, girl, man, woman) is if I have a boyfriend. Everone seems shocked when I say no. It's as if it's a crime (especially at my age) to be single.

"But why not?", "But you're pretty, I don't understand why not".

They may as well say "Are you retarded?"

Last day in Guadalajara

2008-03-30T17:48:00.000-07:00

Decided to hit the streets nice and early to see as many galleries as I could before I left town (even though I'd only just decided that waking up early was for idiots).

Was so impressed by some of the buildings that the galleries were set up in, and saw some really great works that made me feel totally inspired. It's sad that this enormity of the galleries seems to be lacking so much in Sydney. It's great to see so many great galleries over here, and for a country that doesn't have a whole lot of money to throw around, the arts scene seems to be pretty well established and encouraged. Come on Sydney!!

Y Tu Mama Tambien

2008-03-30T17:27:00.000-07:00

Befriended a group of youngsters from Guadalajara who invited me along on their camping trip. Sure, why not? I don't understand a word you're saying, but why not?

Drove south for about 5 hours to a place called Maruata. The trip down was an experience of it's own (I witnessed the most horrendous car accident I've ever seen and we were then searched thoroughly by military men laden with machine guns at the border between the 2 states of Jalisco and Michoacan).

Finally made it and the view was breathtaking. From the view from the top of the hill I began to imagine 4 days of lazing by the turquoise water, eating lots of fruit, campfires on empty baches, lots of reading and perhaps a few early nights, listening to the sounds of the night and the crackling of the fire.

Ha! We'd arrived during Santa Semana, the busiest time of year for Mexicans to hit the beach. The empty beach I'd imagined was covered in palm leaf roofs, with a tent city underneath, each tent virtually pitched on top of each other. Every posse had their own stezza, cranked to full boar til the wee hours of the morn, pumping out electro, Latin tunes and obnoxious beats. So...we drowned it all out with out own tunes.

Ended up spending 4 days drinking beer for beakfast , lunch and dinner, reading only a couple of pages, and trying to understand what the hell these lads were talking about. After a day or 2 when I finally understood that most of their converstaion was slang I was able to filter through and start making a bit more sense of it all. Everything anyone said started and ended with swearwords, so if I could just listen in betwen it all....bingo! By day 4 I was swearing like a true teenage boy from Guadalajara. Excellent! I'm sure that'll come in very handy when I leave Mexico and no one will understand a single word of what I'm saying.

Survived the long traffic filled highway back to town, said "adios" to the gang and returned to the backpacker world yet again.

Lucha libre...again

2008-03-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

Couldn't help myself and had to go to Mexican wrestling again. Think that if I lived in Mexico I'd go on a weekly basis. I just love how comical the whole thing is. No agro, just good times and fabulously well choreographed dancing. This time round (in Guadalajara) the stadium was much smaller and the crowd was much more interactive. Folk were so distracted by the crowd cries that the wrestling became background entertainment at times. I was lucky to have someone intrpreting what the crowd was yelling, and besides the obligatory swearing (Puta Madre) they were also yelling at hotties to turn around, and if they did, they went wild. Then they'd pick out a baldie and have a go at him. It was all in good fun, but I decided early on that I wasn't going to leave my seat for the entire duration of the match, for fear of being heckled by hundreds of punters and not understanding a word.

So I sat and laughed at everyone else instead. I'm really going to miss this sport. Where else can you go to watch a couple of short, fat dudes in their 40s tossing each other around a ring, to then have one of them held down and have his head shaved. Pure entertainment I tells ya!

Tequila

2008-03-30T17:10:00.000-07:00

As soon as I found out there was a place called Tequila I was on the first bus! Didn't take much convincing to get my new mates to come along too, so we all piled onto the bus and went to check out how they make this fabulous drink they call tequila. Well, the only way to really understand it all was to taste, and taste , and then taste some more. So...we did (purely for research though).

Didn't realise there were so many types. There's another world of tequila out there past our selection of 1 or 2 bottles in Oz. Wished I could buy 20 bottles, but with 'bag o' shit' so heavy, I can't even fit another postcard in. Guess I'll have to drink it all before I leave Mexico, or before I make my way down south to the land of Mezcal...

Guadalajara

2008-03-30T16:59:00.000-07:00

Checked out of hotel where I had my own room with not one but 2 double beds and checked into a dorm room in a hostel to share a room with 7 other people (and pay more money) so I could talk again. Realised it'd been a couple of days.

Found a nice crew of people and talked my arse off! Nice release. Decided early on that I really like this town, especially sitting in one of the many plazas sipping on a margerita (or 3). Mmmmm...so tasty!

Found a cute little bar that night that was playing salsa music and folk spilled out into the courtyard busting their moves. So awesome to watch.

Note to self...must learn how to dance with coordination.

Soft boiled eggs

2008-03-30T16:56:00.000-07:00

When they say soft boiled, that's excatly what they mean. Ordered eggs for breakfast in Gunajuato and got a mug full of liquid eggs. Don't look...just eat. Can't exactly stop eating eggs on this trip, it's my staple (that and cheese). Still haven't gone 24 hours without cheese, I'm working on it though.

View from top of Guanajuato

2008-03-17T16:11:00.000-07:00

Trecked to the top of the hill to check out the view (god damn heart nearly gave out on the way). When I got there it was simply breathtaking, the view below hiding any poverty I'd walked amongst earlier that day with candy coloured roofs. Lots of people were crowding the viewing area, and as I looked over the edge I noticed a few corona umbrellas shading an empty balcony below. Ah ha! That would make the perfect setting for arvo bevvies! I wondered down the steps leading to this hidden oasis and sat watching the view for hours, corona beers and book in hand, never understanding why the crazy, crazy folk above didn't think to make the same move, but not wanting to encourage anyone else to share my space.

Another afternoon in paradise.

Museo de las Momias

2008-03-17T15:51:00.000-07:00

Thought I'd try to understand a little more about the Mexican's views on death, but after visiting this museum of mummies, I'm not sure I'm any closer.

There's some crazy concoction of magic soil, a particular balance of naturally occurring chemicals, and levels of oxygen that serve to naturally mummify buried persons in this cemetary (sometimes within a few years).

Recently, as the cemetary fills up, those bodies that can't be financially sponsored to continue living in such high demand real estate are being exhumed and the "good specimens" put on display here in the museum.

I enetered the museum slightly in shock, but not being able to take my eyes of the bodies. I even resorted to taking a few tourist photos and laughing at the comical text that accompanied the bodies.

It wasn't until I reached "the smallest mummy in the world" that I started to feel slightly odd about the whole experience, put my camera away and walked along in silence...a semi-confused frown across my forehead.

Laughing at dead adults is one thing...but babies...come on!

this should really be my first entry

2008-03-14T19:44:00.001-07:00

The straight faced guy at the USA Border Control who didn't crack a smile at anyone called me a "lone wolf" because I was travelling alone. Couldn't understand not travelling on a group tour.
Think I even got a smile out of him...

Let's fuck buses

2008-03-14T19:35:00.000-07:00

Just found out that the verb coger (to take) means to fuck, here in Central America. Lucky I found out early on in my trip...before I started telling everyone how many buses and trains I've been fucking

Jardin Botanico - San Miguel de Allende

2008-03-13T16:46:00.000-07:00

I finally arrived in my plant paradise. Jardin Botanico in San Miguel de Allende. It's everything I ever wanted to see from Mexican wilderness, well...a good start anyway.

There'd been some great conservation efforts of the wetland, and the birds were actually great to watch (they normally do NOTHING for me). I saw the tiniest honeyeater darting all around...so I chased him!

The great thing about these cacti is that they're edible too (nopales). Packed with nutrients too apparently..my new best friend here methinks (especially as a vegetarian). A what? You want some cheese?

Mariposas

2008-03-13T16:31:00.000-07:00

Still too shy to take photos of strangers, I settle for their backs (en sectreto). Only the Mexican women that day were blessed with butterflies gracing their bodies with a fluttering visit.

Lucky for us we didn't have to wak all the way to the bottom of the track, I doubt I'd be here today had we have had to climb the incline again. For some reason I never thought to slowly aclimatise to an altitude of 3500m. Lucky for me I was having troubles breathing already huh? Damn 38 hours of aircon in transit over here (cough cough).

These butterflies were floating just like leaves, and I was guessing that those already dead on the ground were the men, shagged to death by the chicas, never to make the journey north to Canada. Tough life!

Mexico City...side view (hee hee)

2008-03-13T16:06:00.000-07:00

I went to what I thought was the top viewing platform of the tower and began to take photos through the grubby glass windows. The guy working in the cafe there kept giving me strange looks, then approached me and said "blah blah blah" in Spanish and pointing upstairs. I kept responding "si, si" because I'd already gone to the museum upstairs. We played this game for a few minutes, until he gently took me by the arm and led me into the elevator and pushed the button for a few flights up. Oh...there's more levels? I got out and it was an open air viewing platform...free from grubby glass. I continued with my tourist snaphappy inclinations and returned downstairs.

"Entiendo ahora" I giggled.

Big smiles all round.