I've heard that for a lot of people, the planning of a trip is almost as (or even more) enjoyable than actually taking the trip. While, maybe that'd be the case for me if I actually had a lot of time to plan... but backpacking is a bit different than vacationing, for one, and two, I think the most "planning" I can do at this point is just try and create a basic route to follow.
Below is what I've come up with so far.
Will it change? Duh. Not only is it super bare-bones at this point (I'll probably end up cutting through some small towns I've never know existed before), but I'm sure it also includes way too many spots for me to feasibly hit [though you should've seen my first first draft...]. And I've no idea whether I'll like a place so much I want to stay for a week, or hate a place and be on the first train out after not even a day. Plus, I'm still crossing my fingers that I meet cool people to hang with- who'll no doubt influence my route as well.
But are these the places my brain believes I can (and want to) make it to in ~9 weeks? Yup.
(By the way, dates are totally approximate once I leave Israel.)
Israel
April 1-14
>Negev (Desert) Region
-Masada
-Ein Gedi
-Dead Sea
-Mitzpe Ramon
>Eilat
>Petra (technically in Jordan- I've got to see if I've got the time/funds to visit a wonder of the ancient world for a few days)
>back north to say goodbye if I have time?
Europe: April 14-June 6
Greece
April 14-17?
>Athens
-day trip to Mycenae?
Italy
April 17-May 4?
>Rome
-be there on April 21st for its b-day celebration?
>Naples (yes Mom, I'm still planning on going. I'll try to find a guy to travel with...)
-Pompeii
-grotto azzurra
>Florence
-trips to Pisa for the tower and Cinque Terre for the view
>Bologna
>Venice
Germany
May 4-16?
>Munich
>Prague? It's the most interesting thing between the two German cities, so I may have to pop over to the Czech Republic for a bit.
>Berlin
>Cologne
>Frankfurt or Black Forest or Geneva (Switzerland) or Aosta Valley (Italy) <-- clearly having some issues making up my mind... I know I just need to go south from Cologne
France
May 16-June 3?
>Cannes
-Film Festival May 15-26 <-- wierdly enough, this event has become what I'm orienting my whole trip around... not sure why, but ever since I realized I could get there timing-wise, it's become non-negotiable. It also help that Cannes is located on the beaches in the south of France. AND that I can see some of the premieres for free.
[Slight topic deviation: I've developed a small goal of meeting an actor/producer/director/etc. who I can then entice into inviting me to a VIP-only movie premiere. I'll make sure to update the blog should any progress with that occur....]
>Nice, Marseilles, other beach towns in southern France
[>Biarritz or Bordeaux or Normandy if I find myself with some spare time?]
>Tours
>Paris (and Versailles)
Netherlands
June 3-6
•Amsterdam
So my Europe route is sort of zig-zagging its way up through Italy, looping around Germany (possibly detouring into the Czech Republic), and then cutting down across the south of France, up to Paris, and finally ending in Amsterdam. Definitely a bit bizzare and not at all what I'd have thought I'd be doing even a few months ago. But I always wanted to go through Italy... and I met a lot of Germans, so Germany had to be included.... then I learned about the Cannes Film Fest and had already bought my ticket out of Amsterdam, so there you have it.
And while I'm trying to sound all professional and rational about this thing, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Yay!
xoxo, Cleome
Showing posts with label Details. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Details. Show all posts
Friday, March 29, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
The Fauzi
Alright, seeing as I've been volunteering at the Fauzi Azar Inn for pretty much two weeks now (excluding the days I was in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv), I can finally, with total confidence, give you the gist of the place and my duties as Volunteer Supreme.
About the Fauzi
I know earlier I provided some background information concerning the Inn that I took directly from its website. However, now that I've actually seen and experience the place, I can tell you about its history and characteristics with a few more details.
How the Fauzi Came to Be
The Fauzi Azar Inn was originally an extremely gorgeous mansion belonging to a wealthy Arab family, the Azars. However, when the War of 1948 occurred and the state of Israel was created, the majority of the citizens of Nazareth fled to nearby countries- mainly Lebanon. Fauzi Azar (the head of the Azar family and the owner of the house) was the only one in his family, as well as one of the only Arabs in town, who chose to remain in Nazareth- he couldn't bear to give up his magnificent house.
After successfully living alone for some time, one day disaster struck for Azar- fire! In the process of saving the carpets of the mansion, Azar suffered intense burns that sent him to the hospital and eventually caused his death. The magnificent house sat empty for many years, as the rest of the family didn't want to live there, but couldn't bear to part with it.
The Inn may very well have remained empty until it crumbled to the ground from lack of use, had a young Israeli backpacker named Maoz not happened upon it. Maoz was a visionary who believed that not only would the house provide the perfect location for a hostel, but the city of Nazareth would be the ideal spot to begin a hiking trail he was developing with an American friend- what would later become known as the Jesus Trail. But convincing the surviving family of Azar that opening a B&B in their old, prized home was a laborious process, so I'm told. Maoz got in contact with the granddaughter of Azar, Suraida, and while she was not convinced by his proposal, she agreed to pass on his contact information to her mother for further discussion. I'm not quite sure how long the issue was debated, or who finally gave in, but eventually an agreement was reached that allowed Maoz to open his hostel, with Suraida as co-owner and her grandfather's named immortalized in the name.
The hostel opened in 2005, and since then has accrued an amazing reputation. [Sorry if the next part sounds like a preachy ad- I'm just not sure how else to convey its awesomeness....] The Fauzi consistently receives highly rated reviews on travel sites, is top pick in Lonely Planet guides, was awarded an Environmental Tourism Award in 2011, and has received TripAdvisor's "Travelers' Choice" Award for the years 2012 and 2013. Plus, the Jesus Trail is constantly getting more and more press for being an impressive hiking trail that roughly follows Jesus's path as he performed his miracles. Though of course non-Christian pilgrims walk it for the scenery as well. [Oh, and Tony Blair visited the Fauzi a few years ago. How about we start a petition for Obama to come by next month....?]
What Makes the Fauzi Special?
I'd like to think after five months of staying in a wide variety of hostels, I've a pretty good idea of what a hostel is- and what makes one good or not. Hostels span a wide spectrum, from the crazy party ones on one side to the super chill, laid-back ones on the other. I've discovered my personal favorites tend to lie closer to the party side, but with a good dose of relaxation thrown in as well.
The Fauzi embodies all that a decent hostel should. And then it goes a bit beyond. Features that all hostels tend to have include:
-cheaper accommodations than hotels
-both dorms and private rooms
-shared bathrooms
-an available kitchen for guest use (some are even affiliated with a bar/cafe)
-free coffee all day and some sort of free breakfast
-a common area meant to foster meeting people
-routine activities, whether it's trivia night, Sunday afternoon BBQs, open mic night, or a pub crawl
-help in setting up tours
-a book exchange
Fauzi is special (in my opinion), thanks to:
-the unique free old city tour (purposefully leaves out the main tourist attractions, and instead focuses on the local community)
-the amazing complimentary smorgasbord breakfast (delicious, contains a wide variety of traditional Arab and Israeli foods and is cooked by staff with actually culinary skills)
-the history you can feel radiating out from the aged, muraled walls
-the most in-depth (and longest) reception shpeil I've ever witnessed [I have to learn it by heart- a daunting task]
-and finally, one thing that I personally am most impressed by, is Fauzi's ties/commitments to the local community. Before the Fauzi, Nazareth literally had 0% gains from tourism. The city used to just be a tour bus stop where religious tourists would get out to ogle the churches and then pile back on to hit the next site. This day-trip tourism for solely the holy places didn't contribute at all to the local economy in Nazareth, and that may still have been the trend today had the Fauzi not opened and begun to market Nazareth as a place to stay for at least a few nights. Some absurdly large (maybe 80) percentage of businesses in the old city are recent developments that appeared only after the Fauzi began attracting tourists who came to see all of Nazareth, not just the Basilica of Annunciation (the largest church in the Middle East). The Inn promotes local restaurants, souvenir shops, market vendors, etc. to its guests, and in gratitude most Nazareth-based businesses give discounts to guests of the Fauzi Azar as a way to say thanks for sending patrons to frequent their establishments.
Enough yapping about the Fauzi, Cleome (we can tell you're infatuated), what do you actually do?
Right, my oh-so-difficult volunteering duties.... I bake cakes. I help with reception and answering the phone/guests' questions. Sometimes I choose which music to play. I take out the trash. I do dishes and make sure there's always hot water available for tea or coffee. I tidy up the kitchen and the lobby. I restock the free fruit bowl. I do whatever the staff (two bosses, four managers, a Mr. Fix-It and a handful of cookers/cleaners) ask me to. I get to talk with guests. I meet really interesting, varied types of people. I play chess with the other staff/volunteers. If nothing's really going on I'll read or write. Or check Facebook. Or plan my next trips out of Nazareth.
Pretty chill "work."
Now don't get me wrong- what we do as volunteers aids the Fauzi considerably. We accomplish the menial tasks required of running a hostel day to day. And like I said, it's not hard work, but I've had shifts where it felt like I spent the entire six or so hours rotating between washing dishes and bringing out tea trays for newly arrived guests. Just depends on the day.
Overall I'm a huge fan of this set-up. I work roughly six hours, five days a week. The shifts are either 7:30am-2pm, 1-7pm, or 6-11pm, so it gives you time to do stuff either earlier and/or later in the day. Plus in your two (generally consecutive) days off, you can get a bit further out of Nazareth than just a day trip. There's usually at least one other volunteer free to hang with, though longer trips are generally embarked upon solo. And during your shift you tend to get free time for about half of it, so it honestly doesn't even feel like work.
Plus, the travelers that pass through the Fauzi are incredibly varied. In the few weeks I've been here I've met families on vacation, religious tourists, school study-abroad groups, pro-Palestinian activists/documentarians/journalists, travel bloggers, avid hikers, and plain old curious backpackers that have heard of the Fauzi's amazing rep. I've gotten to meet and talk with incredibly interesting people who've taught me a lot. Or just had amazing conversations with the coolest people.
I'm feeling incredibly lucky right now.
Plus, I think I've convinced Moaz to get the Inn a guitar! Life is pretty damn good right now.
xoxo, Cleome
About the Fauzi
I know earlier I provided some background information concerning the Inn that I took directly from its website. However, now that I've actually seen and experience the place, I can tell you about its history and characteristics with a few more details.
How the Fauzi Came to Be
The Fauzi Azar Inn was originally an extremely gorgeous mansion belonging to a wealthy Arab family, the Azars. However, when the War of 1948 occurred and the state of Israel was created, the majority of the citizens of Nazareth fled to nearby countries- mainly Lebanon. Fauzi Azar (the head of the Azar family and the owner of the house) was the only one in his family, as well as one of the only Arabs in town, who chose to remain in Nazareth- he couldn't bear to give up his magnificent house.
After successfully living alone for some time, one day disaster struck for Azar- fire! In the process of saving the carpets of the mansion, Azar suffered intense burns that sent him to the hospital and eventually caused his death. The magnificent house sat empty for many years, as the rest of the family didn't want to live there, but couldn't bear to part with it.
The Inn may very well have remained empty until it crumbled to the ground from lack of use, had a young Israeli backpacker named Maoz not happened upon it. Maoz was a visionary who believed that not only would the house provide the perfect location for a hostel, but the city of Nazareth would be the ideal spot to begin a hiking trail he was developing with an American friend- what would later become known as the Jesus Trail. But convincing the surviving family of Azar that opening a B&B in their old, prized home was a laborious process, so I'm told. Maoz got in contact with the granddaughter of Azar, Suraida, and while she was not convinced by his proposal, she agreed to pass on his contact information to her mother for further discussion. I'm not quite sure how long the issue was debated, or who finally gave in, but eventually an agreement was reached that allowed Maoz to open his hostel, with Suraida as co-owner and her grandfather's named immortalized in the name.
The hostel opened in 2005, and since then has accrued an amazing reputation. [Sorry if the next part sounds like a preachy ad- I'm just not sure how else to convey its awesomeness....] The Fauzi consistently receives highly rated reviews on travel sites, is top pick in Lonely Planet guides, was awarded an Environmental Tourism Award in 2011, and has received TripAdvisor's "Travelers' Choice" Award for the years 2012 and 2013. Plus, the Jesus Trail is constantly getting more and more press for being an impressive hiking trail that roughly follows Jesus's path as he performed his miracles. Though of course non-Christian pilgrims walk it for the scenery as well. [Oh, and Tony Blair visited the Fauzi a few years ago. How about we start a petition for Obama to come by next month....?]
What Makes the Fauzi Special?
I'd like to think after five months of staying in a wide variety of hostels, I've a pretty good idea of what a hostel is- and what makes one good or not. Hostels span a wide spectrum, from the crazy party ones on one side to the super chill, laid-back ones on the other. I've discovered my personal favorites tend to lie closer to the party side, but with a good dose of relaxation thrown in as well.
The Fauzi embodies all that a decent hostel should. And then it goes a bit beyond. Features that all hostels tend to have include:
-cheaper accommodations than hotels
-both dorms and private rooms
-shared bathrooms
-an available kitchen for guest use (some are even affiliated with a bar/cafe)
-free coffee all day and some sort of free breakfast
-a common area meant to foster meeting people
-routine activities, whether it's trivia night, Sunday afternoon BBQs, open mic night, or a pub crawl
-help in setting up tours
-a book exchange
Fauzi is special (in my opinion), thanks to:
-the unique free old city tour (purposefully leaves out the main tourist attractions, and instead focuses on the local community)
-the amazing complimentary smorgasbord breakfast (delicious, contains a wide variety of traditional Arab and Israeli foods and is cooked by staff with actually culinary skills)
-the history you can feel radiating out from the aged, muraled walls
-the most in-depth (and longest) reception shpeil I've ever witnessed [I have to learn it by heart- a daunting task]
-and finally, one thing that I personally am most impressed by, is Fauzi's ties/commitments to the local community. Before the Fauzi, Nazareth literally had 0% gains from tourism. The city used to just be a tour bus stop where religious tourists would get out to ogle the churches and then pile back on to hit the next site. This day-trip tourism for solely the holy places didn't contribute at all to the local economy in Nazareth, and that may still have been the trend today had the Fauzi not opened and begun to market Nazareth as a place to stay for at least a few nights. Some absurdly large (maybe 80) percentage of businesses in the old city are recent developments that appeared only after the Fauzi began attracting tourists who came to see all of Nazareth, not just the Basilica of Annunciation (the largest church in the Middle East). The Inn promotes local restaurants, souvenir shops, market vendors, etc. to its guests, and in gratitude most Nazareth-based businesses give discounts to guests of the Fauzi Azar as a way to say thanks for sending patrons to frequent their establishments.
Enough yapping about the Fauzi, Cleome (we can tell you're infatuated), what do you actually do?
Right, my oh-so-difficult volunteering duties.... I bake cakes. I help with reception and answering the phone/guests' questions. Sometimes I choose which music to play. I take out the trash. I do dishes and make sure there's always hot water available for tea or coffee. I tidy up the kitchen and the lobby. I restock the free fruit bowl. I do whatever the staff (two bosses, four managers, a Mr. Fix-It and a handful of cookers/cleaners) ask me to. I get to talk with guests. I meet really interesting, varied types of people. I play chess with the other staff/volunteers. If nothing's really going on I'll read or write. Or check Facebook. Or plan my next trips out of Nazareth.
Pretty chill "work."
Now don't get me wrong- what we do as volunteers aids the Fauzi considerably. We accomplish the menial tasks required of running a hostel day to day. And like I said, it's not hard work, but I've had shifts where it felt like I spent the entire six or so hours rotating between washing dishes and bringing out tea trays for newly arrived guests. Just depends on the day.
Overall I'm a huge fan of this set-up. I work roughly six hours, five days a week. The shifts are either 7:30am-2pm, 1-7pm, or 6-11pm, so it gives you time to do stuff either earlier and/or later in the day. Plus in your two (generally consecutive) days off, you can get a bit further out of Nazareth than just a day trip. There's usually at least one other volunteer free to hang with, though longer trips are generally embarked upon solo. And during your shift you tend to get free time for about half of it, so it honestly doesn't even feel like work.
Plus, the travelers that pass through the Fauzi are incredibly varied. In the few weeks I've been here I've met families on vacation, religious tourists, school study-abroad groups, pro-Palestinian activists/documentarians/journalists, travel bloggers, avid hikers, and plain old curious backpackers that have heard of the Fauzi's amazing rep. I've gotten to meet and talk with incredibly interesting people who've taught me a lot. Or just had amazing conversations with the coolest people.
I'm feeling incredibly lucky right now.
Plus, I think I've convinced Moaz to get the Inn a guitar! Life is pretty damn good right now.
xoxo, Cleome
Saturday, February 9, 2013
The Big Intro to Israel Post
Hello there! It's been a little while since I last posted, and I've finally gotten a good chunk of time to sit down and write, so I thought I'd take advantage of it.
I left for Israel a week from today (though technically I've only physically been in Israel for five and a half days, thanks to an amazingly long 19.5 hours of travel time between home and here...) and have experienced a lot of newness in these past seven days. But let's start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start....
Flights and Firsts
So, like I said, it took me 19.5 hours (three different flights) from taking off in Minneapolis to touch down in Israel. I left MN late morning on my first flight and arrived in Newark, NY mid-afternoon. After waiting a few hours in the airport, I boarded the airplane that would jet me away from the US, over the Pacific, and allow me to step foot for the first time ever on another continent. <- That flight was the longest one I've ever been on- seven hours. I flew on SAS, a Scandinavian airline, and was quite impressed by their level of service. Not only did they show recently released movies [I got to watch Argo, what what], but they actually served MEALS on the plane. Free of charge. And they came in the most adorable little portion-sized containers. I was so awed I took a picture, haha.
Although that second flight was great in many ways, it wasn't my favorite simply because
1) It was a "red eye" flight, but I couldn't sleep.
2) There was a freaky amount of turbulence as we were exactly in the middle of our trip aka over the ocean. I won't deny that images of a watery grave briefly flitted past my eyes before I shut them out and mentally chanted think positively over and over again.
3) We changed what felt like a million time zones in those seven hours, and so by the time we arrived in Copenhagen it was 7am in Denmark, while my body still thought it was 1am. After zooming through the cute and sleepy Copenhagen airport [they have hardwood floors, open lounge areas, inviting colors, and a little mermaid statue- how much more adorable can it get?] to find the gate for my third and final flight, I shlumped over and blearily stared at passersby through half-closed lids. Yeah, I felt pretty gross at that point compared to all the sharp-looking European travelers. And
4) I was located in the back of this huge airplane, in the middle row of three seats, and I just had to be put with this older guy who (even with the empty seat between us) had stinky farts. Not very conducive for trying to sleep....
My last flight was about four hours and landed me in Tel Aviv around 2:30pm Israel time on Sunday. Luckily the passport control guys didn't give me too much grief and I was riding in a shared taxi to Jerusalem half an hour later. I arrived at the Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem- recommended to me by the GoEco project- a bit before 5pm and immediately took a shower and tried to sleep. Key word: tried. I was physically exhausted, having at that point slept only about four hours of the past 36, but mentally I couldn't quiet down. I think I fell into a restless sleep around 9pm that night, but certainly woke up the next morning still feeling tired.
Orientation in the Old City
Monday was a jam-packed day.
It began with a two hour meeting in the hostel with GoEco (the volunteer agency) representatives. They gave myself and two other soon-to-be-volunteers [we were all leaving for different projects, however] an explanation of our volunteering projects and some basic information about Israel. Then one of them, Yan, acted as our tour guide for the rest of the day.
First, we explored and had lunch in the major Jerusalem marketplace [he managed to get us millions of free samples of cultural dishes by explaining in Hebrew to the vendors that we were foreigners and had no idea what any of the dishes were] before heading out to Jaffa Gate to take part in a free tour of the Old City. [The term Old City in any area refers to the location where buildings, monuments and historical places built hundreds of years ago remain intact and are still used/inhabited by people today. However, the Old City in Jerusalem is one of the most well-known as it contains many incredibly important religious sites.]
I was extremely awed on our walk through the Old City. We hit all four quarters (Jewish, Christian, Muslim, and Armenian) and our guide was quite knowledgeable about the history of each quarter and their development. It was amazing to think that we were walking through streets and archways that had been there and seen by people for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. And to just actually be in this place I'd heard about for so long felt incredibly unreal. I mean, it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was literally standing 100 feet away from the Western Wall. Wow.
Since the free tour was a general overview of the Old City but didn't actually take us into buildings, once it was over Yan guided our volunteer group back to a couple of impressive sites. We watched the sun set while standing on the top of the Austrian Hospice, taking in the scenic view of the entire Old City; we walked through the [amazingly unpopulated] Church of the Holy Sepulchre once darkness had fallen, and then window-shopped in the new mall outside the Old City on our way to dinner. After dinner (my first authentic Israeli hummus experience!) we explored a few more buildings that had nice views (including one incredibly swanky hotel that impressed me almost as much as the Old City had, haha) and then headed back to the hostel to sleep.
Tuesday was the day I needed to catch my bus to Nazareth to actually begin volunteering, but that wasn't until 4pm, so I had a bit more time to wander around Jerusalem. I went out with Antonia, the girl volunteer I'd hung with the day before, and we saw the Western Wall up close (I did indeed put a piece of paper with a wish on it into an unused crack in the wall). We also walked up to the Dome of the Rock (an extremely holy Islamic site) and marveled at the detail and gorgeousness of the mosque. Finally the time to head to the bus station rolled around, and after a bit of messing around with a temperamental ticket machine, I was on my way.
Finding Fauzi Azar
I sat next to a very... talkative... guy on the bus who also happened to be going to the Fauzi Azar Inn. He came in handy, though, when asking for directions [we arrived at night and the Inn is tucked away in a part of the Old City that takes some maneuvering to get to] and in making me feel a bit more secure when hiking past groups of smoking guys in black leather jackets. But finally we found it, and I had arrived to the place I'm going to be calling home for the next two months!
[I'll be posting specifically about the Fauzi and my duties in another entry very soon!]
I met the other three volunteers that I'll be working with for the next few weeks at least (since two are leaving in a few weeks and new people may be showing up):
Pat- extremely sociable Australian guy working here for his summer break.
Jess- another girl taking a gap year! She's from London and will spending eight months (until August) in Israel doing a variety of activities. Once she's done volunteering at the Fauzi she's heading to a kibbutz for five months. You can bet I'm going to be visiting her.
Mike- Canadian, eh? ...Sorry, he's taking some time off from studying software engineering to travel and has a bunch of short-term volunteer gigs lined up in various parts of Israel.
(Oh, and there's also a long-term volunteer lady, Linda, who gives all the guided tours. But she's pretty much a permanent fixture as she's been here for four years.)
Pat and Jess have both been here for roughly a month and only have a few weeks left, while Mike will be leaving only two weeks before I am. I really like them all, and the vibe is great because there's enough of us that we won't get sick of each other too soon, but not too many that it's hard to get to know everyone. Though I do hope that when Pat and Jess leave, other volunteers show up. I like you Mike, but some new blood potential friends would also be nice.
The night I arrived was a first-ever movie night, so I dropped my backpack off at the volunteer apartment (about 20 feet up the street) and went back to watch Life of Pi. After the movie I went out for a late-night snack with Pat, Mike, two German guests, and a local named Fadi. The food was good, but I was pretty much falling asleep at the table, so it was relieving to just head back to the apartment and go to bed finally at 2am.
Navigating Nazareth
Wednesday began with free breakfast at the Fauzi and then a guided tour of the Old City. It was a great, alternative tour that ignored the holy places (since you can do that on your own) and instead focused on getting to know the locals and the back roads of Nazareth. It was a great introduction to this city I'm going to be based in for the next while. I then grabbed lunch with Mike, hung out and explored the city some more with Jess, and had the most touching hospitality experience I've felt in a while.
A local Christian Arabic family that Mike and Pat had met earlier had invited them to dinner, and since I was free, both I and a Fauzi guest Jackie were invited along. However, when we got to the family's house after running through the winding alleyways in the pouring rain, we discovered that the electricity in their area was completely out. No lights, no heat, no nothing. Certainly no cooking, we surmised [<- like my word choice, Pat&Mike?]. But the family surprised us, and after an hour of sitting in the candle-lit living roomexchanging broken English and Arabic talking with the daughters Ruth and Jessica, we were informed dinner was ready and we were ushered into the kitchen.
An amazing spread of traditional Arabic food lay on the table before us. The four of us sat down with Ruth and the dad, Adell, and had a wonderful meal highlighted by lamb, rice with a special yogurt sauce, and Italian champagne. The food was very tasty (and they managed to magically heat it somehow- candles?), but there were about a million dishes and each was heaped onto our plates in such great quantities that I couldn't even finish half of it. After dinner the electricity came back on (of course) and we moved back to the living room to join the rest of the family (mom, brother, Jessica and fiance) in smoking hookah (first time for me!) and listening to music. And when we finally excused ourselves after lavishing thanks upon the family, the brother insisted I take the sweatshirt of his I'd been wearing for warmth as a parting gift. To be honest, I'm a little wary that somehow I've bound myself to a romantic obligation... but I'll admit its oversizedness had come in handy as a makeshift tent-like changing room, as there is no real privacy in our tiny volunteer apartment. Alla in all, I was incredibly touched by their generosity in feeding four guests (two of which had been perfect strangers before that meal) in the middle of a power outage. And we have plans to go back soon and learn how to make authentic felafel, so yay! Free food and good company is always something to look forward to.
Experiencing Everyday Events enjoying the alliteration of the section titles?
Thursday I was shadowing Jess on the afternoon shift, but beforehand we walked up a scenic hill named Mount Precipice and on the way to the Inn stopped by a small cafe for Qatayaf (a traditional Ramadan sweet- essentially a small pancake filled with either soft cheese or walnuts, fried, and then drizzled in syrup. As delicious as they sound). We were kept at the Inn for a while after our shift had technically ended, so just came back to the apartment and slept after.
Friday I attempted to find the Jesus Trail (a hiking trail that starts at the Fauzi- more on that in the next blog post!) and failed dismally- got a good run in anyway, though. Then half slept half read in the sun, and was on evening shift with Mike. Bed.
Today I hiked the Jesus Trail with Pat and Mike and five Fauzi guests. Luckily we didn't get lost, as Pat is an expert Jesus Trail navigator. The first leg takes roughly four hours to walk, and really is pretty gorgeous once you get past the highway. We hitched back to Nazareth (a somewhat depressing only 15 minutes away by car) and grabbed a late lunch before coming back home to chill.
I can't believe I just used the word "home" so naturally. I must really feel pretty comfortable here.
Tonight we're heading out to a local restaurant to see some sort of music. Maybe dancing will be involved? Whatever it is, should be interesting.
Off to find Mike and ask him about that stir fry he's supposedly making....
xoxo, Cleome
I left for Israel a week from today (though technically I've only physically been in Israel for five and a half days, thanks to an amazingly long 19.5 hours of travel time between home and here...) and have experienced a lot of newness in these past seven days. But let's start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start....
Flights and Firsts
So, like I said, it took me 19.5 hours (three different flights) from taking off in Minneapolis to touch down in Israel. I left MN late morning on my first flight and arrived in Newark, NY mid-afternoon. After waiting a few hours in the airport, I boarded the airplane that would jet me away from the US, over the Pacific, and allow me to step foot for the first time ever on another continent. <- That flight was the longest one I've ever been on- seven hours. I flew on SAS, a Scandinavian airline, and was quite impressed by their level of service. Not only did they show recently released movies [I got to watch Argo, what what], but they actually served MEALS on the plane. Free of charge. And they came in the most adorable little portion-sized containers. I was so awed I took a picture, haha.
Although that second flight was great in many ways, it wasn't my favorite simply because
1) It was a "red eye" flight, but I couldn't sleep.
2) There was a freaky amount of turbulence as we were exactly in the middle of our trip aka over the ocean. I won't deny that images of a watery grave briefly flitted past my eyes before I shut them out and mentally chanted think positively over and over again.
3) We changed what felt like a million time zones in those seven hours, and so by the time we arrived in Copenhagen it was 7am in Denmark, while my body still thought it was 1am. After zooming through the cute and sleepy Copenhagen airport [they have hardwood floors, open lounge areas, inviting colors, and a little mermaid statue- how much more adorable can it get?] to find the gate for my third and final flight, I shlumped over and blearily stared at passersby through half-closed lids. Yeah, I felt pretty gross at that point compared to all the sharp-looking European travelers. And
4) I was located in the back of this huge airplane, in the middle row of three seats, and I just had to be put with this older guy who (even with the empty seat between us) had stinky farts. Not very conducive for trying to sleep....
My last flight was about four hours and landed me in Tel Aviv around 2:30pm Israel time on Sunday. Luckily the passport control guys didn't give me too much grief and I was riding in a shared taxi to Jerusalem half an hour later. I arrived at the Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem- recommended to me by the GoEco project- a bit before 5pm and immediately took a shower and tried to sleep. Key word: tried. I was physically exhausted, having at that point slept only about four hours of the past 36, but mentally I couldn't quiet down. I think I fell into a restless sleep around 9pm that night, but certainly woke up the next morning still feeling tired.
Orientation in the Old City
Monday was a jam-packed day.
It began with a two hour meeting in the hostel with GoEco (the volunteer agency) representatives. They gave myself and two other soon-to-be-volunteers [we were all leaving for different projects, however] an explanation of our volunteering projects and some basic information about Israel. Then one of them, Yan, acted as our tour guide for the rest of the day.
First, we explored and had lunch in the major Jerusalem marketplace [he managed to get us millions of free samples of cultural dishes by explaining in Hebrew to the vendors that we were foreigners and had no idea what any of the dishes were] before heading out to Jaffa Gate to take part in a free tour of the Old City. [The term Old City in any area refers to the location where buildings, monuments and historical places built hundreds of years ago remain intact and are still used/inhabited by people today. However, the Old City in Jerusalem is one of the most well-known as it contains many incredibly important religious sites.]
I was extremely awed on our walk through the Old City. We hit all four quarters (Jewish, Christian, Muslim, and Armenian) and our guide was quite knowledgeable about the history of each quarter and their development. It was amazing to think that we were walking through streets and archways that had been there and seen by people for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. And to just actually be in this place I'd heard about for so long felt incredibly unreal. I mean, it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was literally standing 100 feet away from the Western Wall. Wow.
Since the free tour was a general overview of the Old City but didn't actually take us into buildings, once it was over Yan guided our volunteer group back to a couple of impressive sites. We watched the sun set while standing on the top of the Austrian Hospice, taking in the scenic view of the entire Old City; we walked through the [amazingly unpopulated] Church of the Holy Sepulchre once darkness had fallen, and then window-shopped in the new mall outside the Old City on our way to dinner. After dinner (my first authentic Israeli hummus experience!) we explored a few more buildings that had nice views (including one incredibly swanky hotel that impressed me almost as much as the Old City had, haha) and then headed back to the hostel to sleep.
Tuesday was the day I needed to catch my bus to Nazareth to actually begin volunteering, but that wasn't until 4pm, so I had a bit more time to wander around Jerusalem. I went out with Antonia, the girl volunteer I'd hung with the day before, and we saw the Western Wall up close (I did indeed put a piece of paper with a wish on it into an unused crack in the wall). We also walked up to the Dome of the Rock (an extremely holy Islamic site) and marveled at the detail and gorgeousness of the mosque. Finally the time to head to the bus station rolled around, and after a bit of messing around with a temperamental ticket machine, I was on my way.
Finding Fauzi Azar
I sat next to a very... talkative... guy on the bus who also happened to be going to the Fauzi Azar Inn. He came in handy, though, when asking for directions [we arrived at night and the Inn is tucked away in a part of the Old City that takes some maneuvering to get to] and in making me feel a bit more secure when hiking past groups of smoking guys in black leather jackets. But finally we found it, and I had arrived to the place I'm going to be calling home for the next two months!
[I'll be posting specifically about the Fauzi and my duties in another entry very soon!]
I met the other three volunteers that I'll be working with for the next few weeks at least (since two are leaving in a few weeks and new people may be showing up):
Pat- extremely sociable Australian guy working here for his summer break.
Jess- another girl taking a gap year! She's from London and will spending eight months (until August) in Israel doing a variety of activities. Once she's done volunteering at the Fauzi she's heading to a kibbutz for five months. You can bet I'm going to be visiting her.
Mike- Canadian, eh? ...Sorry, he's taking some time off from studying software engineering to travel and has a bunch of short-term volunteer gigs lined up in various parts of Israel.
(Oh, and there's also a long-term volunteer lady, Linda, who gives all the guided tours. But she's pretty much a permanent fixture as she's been here for four years.)
Pat and Jess have both been here for roughly a month and only have a few weeks left, while Mike will be leaving only two weeks before I am. I really like them all, and the vibe is great because there's enough of us that we won't get sick of each other too soon, but not too many that it's hard to get to know everyone. Though I do hope that when Pat and Jess leave, other volunteers show up. I like you Mike, but some new
The night I arrived was a first-ever movie night, so I dropped my backpack off at the volunteer apartment (about 20 feet up the street) and went back to watch Life of Pi. After the movie I went out for a late-night snack with Pat, Mike, two German guests, and a local named Fadi. The food was good, but I was pretty much falling asleep at the table, so it was relieving to just head back to the apartment and go to bed finally at 2am.
Navigating Nazareth
Wednesday began with free breakfast at the Fauzi and then a guided tour of the Old City. It was a great, alternative tour that ignored the holy places (since you can do that on your own) and instead focused on getting to know the locals and the back roads of Nazareth. It was a great introduction to this city I'm going to be based in for the next while. I then grabbed lunch with Mike, hung out and explored the city some more with Jess, and had the most touching hospitality experience I've felt in a while.
A local Christian Arabic family that Mike and Pat had met earlier had invited them to dinner, and since I was free, both I and a Fauzi guest Jackie were invited along. However, when we got to the family's house after running through the winding alleyways in the pouring rain, we discovered that the electricity in their area was completely out. No lights, no heat, no nothing. Certainly no cooking, we surmised [<- like my word choice, Pat&Mike?]. But the family surprised us, and after an hour of sitting in the candle-lit living room
An amazing spread of traditional Arabic food lay on the table before us. The four of us sat down with Ruth and the dad, Adell, and had a wonderful meal highlighted by lamb, rice with a special yogurt sauce, and Italian champagne. The food was very tasty (and they managed to magically heat it somehow- candles?), but there were about a million dishes and each was heaped onto our plates in such great quantities that I couldn't even finish half of it. After dinner the electricity came back on (of course) and we moved back to the living room to join the rest of the family (mom, brother, Jessica and fiance) in smoking hookah (first time for me!) and listening to music. And when we finally excused ourselves after lavishing thanks upon the family, the brother insisted I take the sweatshirt of his I'd been wearing for warmth as a parting gift. To be honest, I'm a little wary that somehow I've bound myself to a romantic obligation... but I'll admit its oversizedness had come in handy as a makeshift tent-like changing room, as there is no real privacy in our tiny volunteer apartment. Alla in all, I was incredibly touched by their generosity in feeding four guests (two of which had been perfect strangers before that meal) in the middle of a power outage. And we have plans to go back soon and learn how to make authentic felafel, so yay! Free food and good company is always something to look forward to.
Experiencing Everyday Events enjoying the alliteration of the section titles?
Thursday I was shadowing Jess on the afternoon shift, but beforehand we walked up a scenic hill named Mount Precipice and on the way to the Inn stopped by a small cafe for Qatayaf (a traditional Ramadan sweet- essentially a small pancake filled with either soft cheese or walnuts, fried, and then drizzled in syrup. As delicious as they sound). We were kept at the Inn for a while after our shift had technically ended, so just came back to the apartment and slept after.
Friday I attempted to find the Jesus Trail (a hiking trail that starts at the Fauzi- more on that in the next blog post!) and failed dismally- got a good run in anyway, though. Then half slept half read in the sun, and was on evening shift with Mike. Bed.
Today I hiked the Jesus Trail with Pat and Mike and five Fauzi guests. Luckily we didn't get lost, as Pat is an expert Jesus Trail navigator. The first leg takes roughly four hours to walk, and really is pretty gorgeous once you get past the highway. We hitched back to Nazareth (a somewhat depressing only 15 minutes away by car) and grabbed a late lunch before coming back home to chill.
I can't believe I just used the word "home" so naturally. I must really feel pretty comfortable here.
Tonight we're heading out to a local restaurant to see some sort of music. Maybe dancing will be involved? Whatever it is, should be interesting.
Off to find Mike and ask him about that stir fry he's supposedly making....
xoxo, Cleome
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Coming Up Next
My plans for the rest of my "walkabout" have changed a lot since a few weeks ago, not to mention last fall before I'd even embarked on the first part of it.
[I just went back and reread my predicted plans for the year... wow have those been tweaked a lot.]
I got back from Costa Rica at the beginning of January and set a goal for myself to be off on the next part of my adventure by the beginning of February. I gave myself a month to relax, be at home, have parents, see friends and figure out what the heck I was going to do next. And where I was going to go. And for how long. <- I had a lot to figure out.
Wait, Cleome, I thought you were going to Europe for four months to backpack around? Yeah, let me finish. As I was saying, I'd been thinking hard about my next steps, and for a multitude of reasons ended up coming to the conclusion that I actually didn't want to aimlessly backpack around Europe for that long of a time. Because, like:
1) It's still cold in much of Europe at this time of year.
2) The tourist Schengen Visa is only good for three months out of any six month period (and I don't want to try and jilt the authorities, thereby risking never being allowed into the EU for the rest of my life). And the visa includes most of the countries I actually want to travel through.
3) Thanks to actually having traveling experience now (yay!), I know that straight traveling for one month, let alone four, is exhausting. AND
4) Europe is ridiculously expensive. More than I was originally imagining. I'm a soon-to-be poor college student- I can't be going into debt before starting school.
So I was pretty jittery for a while, as I had no real idea of where to even start now that my semi-solid plans for February-May were out. You'd be surprised how hard it is to decide on a course of action when you can do essentially whatever you want. It'd be great to use the time I have to work on maintaining my French or Spanish, or participate in something that might serve to guide me/provide me with experience for a future career path [not that I have any idea what that would be], but.... Honestly, when you really have no limitations, there are about a jillion amazing things you could do. And you don't want to squander this awesome opportunity by choosing something stupid, or uninteresting, or pointless, or or or
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Sorry, but as you may be able to tell, I was a bit fragile concerning my future plans for a while. However I managed to calm down and reason rationally with myself, and figured out a few things concerning what I did want to happen on the next part of my year off:
WHAT I'LL ACTUALLY BE DOING. (Just got confirmation!)
[I just went back and reread my predicted plans for the year... wow have those been tweaked a lot.]
I got back from Costa Rica at the beginning of January and set a goal for myself to be off on the next part of my adventure by the beginning of February. I gave myself a month to relax, be at home, have parents, see friends and figure out what the heck I was going to do next. And where I was going to go. And for how long. <- I had a lot to figure out.
Wait, Cleome, I thought you were going to Europe for four months to backpack around? Yeah, let me finish. As I was saying, I'd been thinking hard about my next steps, and for a multitude of reasons ended up coming to the conclusion that I actually didn't want to aimlessly backpack around Europe for that long of a time. Because, like:
1) It's still cold in much of Europe at this time of year.
2) The tourist Schengen Visa is only good for three months out of any six month period (and I don't want to try and jilt the authorities, thereby risking never being allowed into the EU for the rest of my life). And the visa includes most of the countries I actually want to travel through.
3) Thanks to actually having traveling experience now (yay!), I know that straight traveling for one month, let alone four, is exhausting. AND
4) Europe is ridiculously expensive. More than I was originally imagining. I'm a soon-to-be poor college student- I can't be going into debt before starting school.
So I was pretty jittery for a while, as I had no real idea of where to even start now that my semi-solid plans for February-May were out. You'd be surprised how hard it is to decide on a course of action when you can do essentially whatever you want. It'd be great to use the time I have to work on maintaining my French or Spanish, or participate in something that might serve to guide me/provide me with experience for a future career path [not that I have any idea what that would be], but.... Honestly, when you really have no limitations, there are about a jillion amazing things you could do. And you don't want to squander this awesome opportunity by choosing something stupid, or uninteresting, or pointless, or or or
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry, but as you may be able to tell, I was a bit fragile concerning my future plans for a while. However I managed to calm down and reason rationally with myself, and figured out a few things concerning what I did want to happen on the next part of my year off:
- I realized I wanted to do another volunteering project for at least part of the rest of year. I just like feeling useful and helping others. But while an organization in Ghana serving to educate the local population about HIV/AIDS and trying to prevent the spread of the disease sounds incredible [trust me, I looked it up], I don't feel like I necessarily have to be volunteering in a super intense situation trying to save lives to feel successful. I really loved the type of volunteering I did at the orphanage- helping out but also being able to have my own life in the community. (Also, I'm currently done working with children. I'll be doing that this summer as well and I just need a break.)
- I am really interested in going to a country where the primary language is not English. Or another language is spoken prominently, at least.
- Ideally, I'd go somewhere that is still close to Europe, so I could maybe travel there after volunteering.
- And I didn't want it ("it" being the flight, program, living costs, etc.) to be extraordinarily expensive.
Somehow [don't ask me how], this all lead me to determining a location: Israel! Now I just had to find a program that was affordable, open to 18-year olds, and sounded interesting....
Idea 1: Eilat Hotel Volunteer
Summary: A 5-month program where I'd live/work in a hotel in a southern resort city with a bunch of other volunteers from all over. Hebrew lessons would be included, as well as a public transportation pass.
I quickly ditched this idea as a 5-month long commitment was just too limiting for me.
Idea/Attempt 2: Kibbutz Volunteer
Haha, yes, "attempt" is the key word here. This plan was almost a go, until about two weeks into the process of applying....
A kibbutz is a uniquely Israeli socialist-type community (all members work for the community itself). Historically agriculturally-based, many kibbutzim have branched out into tourism and industrial work. But the majority accept volunteers for 2-6 months at a time simply because there are more jobs than members available to do them. Living there while working is free (room and board all payed for), but you make no money and the work is often quite demanding, with long hours and can often be tedious [for example, stuffing pillows in a hot, windowless factory for eight hours a day? No thanks]. But there are always lots of volunteers who come from all over. Plus the members of the kibbutz are more often than not pretty interesting. It's supposed to be hard work, a bit isolated, but a lot of fun, too.
Anyway, after sending in all my forms in record time (and my full placement payment), they informed me that I was apparently ineligible for the program. Because of my age: 18.5 instead of 19. Get this- all kibbutzim welcome volunteers aged 18-35, except for Americans and Canadians. WE have to be 19 in order to join.
Anyway, after some frustrating back and forth with the Israeli office leader (who is very firm in her "no exceptions" rule), it became apparent that being a kibbutz volunteer just wasn't going to work out right now. Which maybe was for the best, as it required me to step back, leading me to-
WHAT I'LL ACTUALLY BE DOING. (Just got confirmation!)
Idea 3: Ecotourism Development in Nazareth
Third time's the charm, huh?
I'm going to be volunteering at the Fauzi Azar Inn for two months, beginning February 2nd.
Third time's the charm, huh?
I'm going to be volunteering at the Fauzi Azar Inn for two months, beginning February 2nd.
The Fauzi Azar Inn is a beautiful 200 year old Arab mansion that was converted into an inn in 2005. The Fauzi Azar Inn promotes ecotourism in Nazareth and works with the community to contribute to its development in various areas. The inn uses local resources to create new work places, to raise the self- image of the local community, and to encourage economic growth while preserving the universal values of natural and cultural preservation. The aim is to introduce in Nazareth, which is the largest Arab city in Israel, a new model of tourism and thus "bridge the gap" between Arabs and Jews. At the same time the Inn is creating a model for increased tourism along the Israel National Trail (Shvil Israel) and the recently completed Jesus Trail in order to promote both trails and the corresponding economic potential.
Volunteering duties include hosting guests and reception work, working in the kitchen, maintaining hiking trails, and guiding tours of the old city of Nazareth. I'll be sharing a nearby apartment with the other volunteers (three others, I think?), and have all the time when I'm not working to explore the city of Nazareth, not to mention the rest of Israel.
Nazareth appears to be a very interesting part of Israel. It is located in Northern Israel, near the Sea of Galilee, and is supposed to be very beautiful. The city contains the largest population of Arabs (both Christian and Muslim) in the country, yet there is still a Jewish presence in the north of the city, which should make for a complex melting pot of cultures, opinions, and ideas.
Yeah, I'm going to work in a renovated mansion, bridge the gap between cultures, and meet a bunch of cool travelers. No biggie.
After
After volunteering through the end of March, I'll take some time to explore the parts of Israel I haven't gotten to yet (maybe hit up Egypt for a bit?) and then fly over to Western Europe [finally the European aspect of my trip comes into play]. I'm free until the beginning of June, at which time I need to come back in order to work over the summer as a camp counselor, so I could potentially be in Europe for six weeks or so. Clearly the last few months of my free time need to be molded into shape a bit more, but there's plenty of time for that.
I'm just incredibly relieved to finally have a semblance of a plan for the rest of the year.
SO. EXCITED. And I should probably start getting all my crap together.
xoxo, Cleome
Monday, January 14, 2013
Nicaragua
So I went to Nicaragua for 10 days... alone.... And it was awesome.
I'd been thinking about what to do after my volunteer program ended the last week of November, and after much debating decided going to Nicaragua would be
1) fun
2) a chance to see a new country, and
3) not completely terrifying as I'd met a girl who was working in Granada, and so at least had one person I knew who I could go up and hang with for a bit.
While I'd been traveling nearly every weekend before my Nicaragua trip, the thought of backpacking solo still scared me up until the point that I crossed the border between countries. There's just something a little more ominous sounding about "backpacking in a different country completely alone for the first time" than "traveling for the weekend with my bestie Lindsay." At least for me there was.
But I shouldn't have worried. I survived for 10 days and made it back to Costa Rica in time to meet my family at the airport- and managed to have fun while doing so.
Nica Adventure, Cliff Notes Version
Saturday, December 1
-Left at 5:45am for San Jose. Was informed the direct buses to Granada weren't available until Monday. Decided to bus-hop instead. Met American named Sherry at the border who was also going to Granada. Had a tiff with officer in border control window- he "forgot" to stamp my passport. Was denied entrance to country by immigration official and had to return to office for another stamp. Finally boarded bus with Sherry to Granada. Arrived and split off from Sherry to go to hostel where my friend Nonny was working. Set stuff down. Went out with Nonny and friends for dinner/clubbing. Slept at Nonny's friend's house (without Nonny- looonnggg story...). Great first night in Nicaragua.
Sunday, December 2
-Recovered. Explored Granada a bit. Ate typical Nicaraguan "frito." Slept early.
Monday, December 3
-Accompanied Nonny to her volunteering project. Played with kids. Sang the Beatles. Went out for drinks. Packed.
Tuesday, December 4
-Said bye to Nonny and left Granada. Ventured to Isla Ometepe [large island home to two enormous volcanos] by chicken bus and ferry. Felt very alone. Set up volcano hike with guide and a French-Canadian guy named Julian. Tried to sleep in a hammock while listening to a man in the Russian Mafia talk about drugs. Restless night.
Wednesday, December 5
-Woke up at 4am for 5am tour. Ate a pb&banana sammich. Completed an 8-hour volcano hike [5,250 feet up, active volcano, extremely windy]. Felt accomplished and exhausted. Showered and slept.
Thursday, December 6
-Left island for the beaches of San Juan del Sur with my bodyguard, a 29-year old Brit named Romy. Super cool guy. Arrived at crazy hostel in every sense: renovated mansion= crazy luxurious, up on a hill= crazy gorgeous views, party hostel reputation= mentally crazy people. Yikes.
Friday, December 7
-Beach day with Romy! First hitchhiking experience and I was immediately obsessed. Gorgeous water, beautiful day, amazing beach. Located delicious, cheap tacos. Went to major gringo beach party.
Saturday, December 8
-Switched from hostel to dirty, sketch hotel. Switched from hotel to other hostel in town. Breathed a sigh of relief. Met new friends (Max, Simone, Astrid, drunk naked Australian dude, etc.) and walked to the Jesus statue on the hill for sunset. Most delicious shot EVER: rum in a passion fruit half with sugar on the side [thanks Romy!]. Party hopped, night swam in ocean, watched Beerfest [<- pretty funny], didn't sleep much. Fun night.
Sunday, December 9
-Early morning run, another beach day with Romy and Max. More hitchhiking. Sunday BBQ at hostel. Packed and early night.
Monday, December 10
-Left for the border on chicken buses with Romy. Border crossing and parting from Romy. Sad. Sat in a bus aisle for four hours to San Jose. Made it back to Atenas after dinner.
A great trip.
Nica vs Costa
A surprising amount of animosity exists between Costa Ricans and Nicaraguans- mostly coming from the Ticos. I think this mainly has to do with how many Nicas try to enter Costa Rica illegally, but any time something bad happens in Costa Rica it's blamed on the Nicas residing with the country, so maybe their negativity is justified.... Yet despite all the teasing I received from my Tico friends about wanting to visit Nicaragua, I have to say I was quite impressed by the country and in many ways it gives Costa Rica a run for its money.
Major Differences I Observed:
I'd been thinking about what to do after my volunteer program ended the last week of November, and after much debating decided going to Nicaragua would be
1) fun
2) a chance to see a new country, and
3) not completely terrifying as I'd met a girl who was working in Granada, and so at least had one person I knew who I could go up and hang with for a bit.
While I'd been traveling nearly every weekend before my Nicaragua trip, the thought of backpacking solo still scared me up until the point that I crossed the border between countries. There's just something a little more ominous sounding about "backpacking in a different country completely alone for the first time" than "traveling for the weekend with my bestie Lindsay." At least for me there was.
But I shouldn't have worried. I survived for 10 days and made it back to Costa Rica in time to meet my family at the airport- and managed to have fun while doing so.
Nica Adventure, Cliff Notes Version
Saturday, December 1
-Left at 5:45am for San Jose. Was informed the direct buses to Granada weren't available until Monday. Decided to bus-hop instead. Met American named Sherry at the border who was also going to Granada. Had a tiff with officer in border control window- he "forgot" to stamp my passport. Was denied entrance to country by immigration official and had to return to office for another stamp. Finally boarded bus with Sherry to Granada. Arrived and split off from Sherry to go to hostel where my friend Nonny was working. Set stuff down. Went out with Nonny and friends for dinner/clubbing. Slept at Nonny's friend's house (without Nonny- looonnggg story...). Great first night in Nicaragua.
Sunday, December 2
-Recovered. Explored Granada a bit. Ate typical Nicaraguan "frito." Slept early.
Monday, December 3
-Accompanied Nonny to her volunteering project. Played with kids. Sang the Beatles. Went out for drinks. Packed.
Tuesday, December 4
-Said bye to Nonny and left Granada. Ventured to Isla Ometepe [large island home to two enormous volcanos] by chicken bus and ferry. Felt very alone. Set up volcano hike with guide and a French-Canadian guy named Julian. Tried to sleep in a hammock while listening to a man in the Russian Mafia talk about drugs. Restless night.
Wednesday, December 5
-Woke up at 4am for 5am tour. Ate a pb&banana sammich. Completed an 8-hour volcano hike [5,250 feet up, active volcano, extremely windy]. Felt accomplished and exhausted. Showered and slept.
Thursday, December 6
-Left island for the beaches of San Juan del Sur with my bodyguard, a 29-year old Brit named Romy. Super cool guy. Arrived at crazy hostel in every sense: renovated mansion= crazy luxurious, up on a hill= crazy gorgeous views, party hostel reputation= mentally crazy people. Yikes.
Friday, December 7
-Beach day with Romy! First hitchhiking experience and I was immediately obsessed. Gorgeous water, beautiful day, amazing beach. Located delicious, cheap tacos. Went to major gringo beach party.
Saturday, December 8
-Switched from hostel to dirty, sketch hotel. Switched from hotel to other hostel in town. Breathed a sigh of relief. Met new friends (Max, Simone, Astrid, drunk naked Australian dude, etc.) and walked to the Jesus statue on the hill for sunset. Most delicious shot EVER: rum in a passion fruit half with sugar on the side [thanks Romy!]. Party hopped, night swam in ocean, watched Beerfest [<- pretty funny], didn't sleep much. Fun night.
Sunday, December 9
-Early morning run, another beach day with Romy and Max. More hitchhiking. Sunday BBQ at hostel. Packed and early night.
Monday, December 10
-Left for the border on chicken buses with Romy. Border crossing and parting from Romy. Sad. Sat in a bus aisle for four hours to San Jose. Made it back to Atenas after dinner.
A great trip.
Nica vs Costa
A surprising amount of animosity exists between Costa Ricans and Nicaraguans- mostly coming from the Ticos. I think this mainly has to do with how many Nicas try to enter Costa Rica illegally, but any time something bad happens in Costa Rica it's blamed on the Nicas residing with the country, so maybe their negativity is justified.... Yet despite all the teasing I received from my Tico friends about wanting to visit Nicaragua, I have to say I was quite impressed by the country and in many ways it gives Costa Rica a run for its money.
Major Differences I Observed:
- Accent- Nicaraguans speak Spanish slightly differently, leaving me saying "que" a lot more than in Costa Rica. I just wasn't used to it at first.
- Buses- Nicaraguan buses suck, frankly, compared to those of Costa Rica. They're converted school buses instead of greyhounds, which pretty much makes all the difference. Nica "chicken buses" have seats that are smaller, less comfortable, and much more cramped [one of the better times to be short: leg room!]. Also, there either tend to be less seats on Nica buses or just tons more people- every bus I rode was invariably packed to the brim with people. So much so that if you sat next to the aisle, you couldn't escape having one of the standing persons' asses in your face. 'Twas lovely. Also, Nica buses picked up food vendors literally every five feet, meaning there was always someone attempting to entice you into buying something. That happens on Tico buses as well, but only at designated rest stops. [Okay, to be fair some of these differences make Nica buses more fun and entertaining, but if you're existing on three hours of sleep and just trying to get home, they make the ride seem a lot longer....]
- Animals- farm animals roamed a lot more freely in Nicaragua than I've really ever seen in Costa Rica. Buses would have to weave between herds of cows, horses were ties to almost every fence post, and spotting a pig rooting in the bushes by the side of the road was not uncommon. I liked that.
- Cost- without a doubt, Nicaragua is so much easier on the wallet if you're trying to travel on a budget. Hostels, food, drinks, transport- all was MUCH cheaper than in Costa Rica. Bananas were literally $.04 <- you can bet I ate a lot of those. And there were some $.25 tacos in San Juan del Sur that were to die for. Yummmmm.
- Tourists- compared to the most visited areas of Costa Rica, the touristy parts of Nicaragua are still pretty devoid of foreigners. Of course it's not like I was the only gringo in the places I went, but the locals were much more prominent, as was their culture. Costa Rica's popularity and relative prosperity has definitely westernized the Ticos' way of life.
- Places to Go- while there are certainly some amazing places to hit in Nicaragua, there appear to be less locations than in Costa Rica. I was only in Nicaragua for 10 days and saw only three different areas of the country, but I pretty much hit all the "worth seeing" places besides one or two. In Costa Rica there are many more spots to go visit that offer significantly different environments, wildlife, and experiences from each other. I traveled to seven different location in Costa Rica over two months and still have a sizable list of areas I'd love to go check out.
Overall, both countries are amazing, of course. But for a shorter trip or one done on a more limited budget or one in which you're trying to get a taste of a significantly different culture from the US, then I'd recommend Nicaragua over Costa Rica. Costa Rica has some of the most gorgeous natural landscapes in the hemisphere, but the country is more expensive and definitely more Americanized. I'm certainly not upset about having been based in Costa Rica- I'm just saying that were my traveling situation different (i.e. not volunteering and solely backpacking), I'd probably have spent more time in Nicaragua than Costa Rica. But since I had the luxury of being based in Costa Rica and getting to explore the beautiful country, I'm extremely grateful.
I can't wait to get on the road again.
xoxo, Cleome
I can't wait to get on the road again.
xoxo, Cleome
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Weekend Trip #6: Bocas Del Toro, Panama [!]
Panama
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tourthe next that morning. The hostel ended up being too hot and loud to really get any sleep, but it's the thought that counts, right?
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Let me just preface this post by saying that mine and Lindsay´s trip to Panama is hands down my favorite travel adventure (so far). So excuse my love radiating from this recap. I just can't contain it....
Dates: Thursday, November 15- Sunday, November 18
First, let me discuss the rationale behind embarking on a nine hour trip, dealing with the hassle of leaving Costa Rica/entering Panama, and venturing to a place that was reputed to have a relatively similar atmosphere to Puerto Viejo [a place we'd already been].
1) The destination was not just Panama- it was Bocas del Toro, a collection of islands in the Caribbean off the coast of northern Panama.
2) It was Lindsay's last weekend, and we wanted to end with a memorable trip.
3) Islands=water and beaches. And we could finally get that snorkeling trip in.
4) We'd heard it was really cool.
5) Did I mention we'd be going to PANAMA? An entirely different country? <- yeah, pretty syked about that aspect.
We figured that if we were already springing for the trip by taking a day off volunteering, we may as well go extreme luxury and book a tour there as well. The tour included transportation to and from the islands [provided we got to Puerto Viejo on our own], two-nights of accommodation [we got to choose our hostel], and a 9:00am-5:00pm snorkeling/dolphin watching/catamaran trip on Saturday. We researched how much it would cost us to book all that stuff ourselves, and figured we'd be paying roughly $30 more for using a tour company. An essentially hassle-free [and hopefully transport issue-free] weekend for $30 extra? We were sold.
[I've been trying to keep my weekly spending, including on the weekends, below $125. The tour package alone cost $140, so I knew I'd be going over budget. The week ended up costing me roughly $230- but it was so worth it. Plus I made up for it by not going anywhere the next weekend.]
Setting Off
Thursday after volunteering, Lindsay and I headed straight into San Jose to catch the 2:00pm bus to Puerto Viejo. We made it to San Jose [after being passed by the first bus headed there because in trying to flag it down, I accidentally put my thumb up- international hitchhiker symbol. The bus passed us with the driver rubbing his fingers together on one hand, demonstrating that we had to pay. Oops...] with plenty of time to spare, the bus showed up on time, and no major excitement occurred on the ride down. For once, our transportation [at least the first part of it] had worked out. Good omen?
We had decided to once again stay at Rocking J's for the night, thinking we could handle the crazy party hostel if it was only for a day. But our experience there this time around was completely different from when we'd stayed there five weeks ago [wow does time fly]. For one, we got in around 6:30pm- a much more reasonable hour than last time. When we arrived only a handful of people were milling around, no tents were set up on the green, and the bar's music was much more mellow. As Lindsay and I checked in, a man of about 50 [obviously of some importance there] came over and introduced himself as J- as in the "J" of Rocking J's. He told the clerk to give us some icees, and then invited Lindsay and I to create a mosaic or a mural [or both], and to come on a tour of the mysterious building out back called the Ark. We politely declined making art, but figured a tour of the Ark couldn't hurt. Boy were we in for a surprise.
J's Ark
I'm not even sure how I can go about describing the Ark in a way that makes sense. I'm going to preface the description by saying that the Ark is a rich mad man's response to the Mayan-predicted end of the world. Amazing but incredibly insane. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me [didn't realize I'd want it], so the inside exists only in my mind. But here goes an attempted description of the Ark in all its glory.
The Ark sits behind Rocking J's, in a large, grassy area. From the outside it resembles a three-tiered, mural-covered pyramid. Its foundation is made up of seven enormous shipping crates that have been welded together so that the Ark can float. The building has been worked on for the past year and a half, and still the top two levels are under construction. But even without being finished, it's clearly the work of a mad genius.
Like I said, the Ark has three different levels. The top two make up what will become J's house, and are made completely out of handcrafted, recycled wood and mirrors. His private space includes a secret artillery room [entered by pressing some button in the living room, and fully equipped with any video game-obsessed youth's weapons/accessories wildest dreams. I'm assuming much of it is illegal...], artwork from all over the world [personalized so that every piece includes a picture of his dog], and an "ice room"- an airtight location where everything needed for a bar will be made out of ice. The public bottom level [for the lucky souls who make it onto his boat before the floods come...] has four different spaces, each located inside one of the shipping containers and entered through a trap door at the top. One serves as a medical center [complete with specialized enough equipment to perform surgeries], one currently [!] contains $15,000 worth of dried/dehydrated food in enormous bulk bins, one is a dorm with 12-15 bunks, and the final space [and most bizarre] is a recording studio- complete with expensive instruments, tie-dyed and soundproofed walls, floor to ceiling mirrors, and state-of-the-art recording equipment. Like I warned you- it's absolutely insane.
The entire tour [which consisted of Lindsay and I, and a neighbor couple of J's], Lindsay and I would make incredulous eye contact and whisper either "I'm scared," [Lindsay] "This guy is crazy," [Lindsay again] or "Don't let him hear. We'll discuss this later," [me]. The tour lasted two hours, and by 9:00pm we were not only sufficiently freaked out, but starving as well. We thanked J for the... incredible... tour, and hurried out of the hostel to grab some dinner.
The night was insanely calm for Rocking J's [pretty much a normal hostel where people shut up and went to bed by 10:00pm]. The only excitement of the night occurred when Lindsay spotted a cockroach in her bag, and proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes alternating between shrieking and reaching into her bag to pull stuff out. I was quite helpful and held the flashlight over her backpack.... Plus said encouraging things. She eventually found and squashed the offending insect, and then we headed to our hammocks for a surprisingly decent night's sleep.
Border Crossing [My First on Foot!]
7:30am the shuttle pulled up to Rocking J's, and Lindsay and I crawled in. We were joined by two Australian surfer dudes [Kain with his three boards, while Zac only brought two], and a Swiss German guy, Kevin- while none of us talked all that much on the way to the border, we'd end up hanging out quite a bit over the weekend. It took about an hour to reach the border, and I think all of were surprised when we finally hit it. It didn't appear at all like you'd expect the division between countries to look [maybe this was just my American ignorance coming into play, but I was expecting barbed wire, policemen, and guard dogs.... Oh, and also a luggage-checking station]. The entire crossing process consisted of a small office on the Costa Rican side where you filled out an immigration form and got an exit stamp, a rickety ex-train bridge with planks missing that you walked over, and an office on the Panamanian side where you got an entry stamp. The Costa Rican side moved along fairly quickly, but the Panamanian side was experiencing... difficulties, and the line literally did not move for over an hour. Finally the window opened, though, we got our stamps, and were whisked off in another shuttle.
We arrived at the dock around 11:00am, and after waiting for a bit, were shown into the least ferry-like ferry I've ever seen. Compared to the huge boat we'd taken getting to Montezuma [three stories, with the bottom level large enough to transport multiple semi trucks], taking this "ferry" was essentially the equivalent of hopping in the back of an already-crowded pickup truck- except on water. Not only was the boat the size of a large van, but our trip included a large group of [intoxicated] local teenagers toting booze, who spent the ride shouting to each other and singing at the top of their lungs. That's not even taking into account the actual ride itself- a jolting, bumpy experience where I more than once feared we'd capsize [Lindsay and I later agreed the trip felt like you were falling down stairs on your butt]. I was quite relieved when we made it to Isla Colon- the main island- in one piece.
Bocas
When we arrived at midday, the islands' Independence Day celebration had already begun: parades, gunshots, fireworks, you name it. While it was tempting to stick around and watch, hunger and the need to be relieved of our backpacks won out, so the five of us decided to catch a water taxi to the island where our hostel, Aqua Lounge, was located- a $1, minute-long trip.
Before booking our tour, Lindsay and I had done a bit of research on places to stay. Aqua Lounge topped the list on most sites we checked out. It's essentially the Rocking J's of Bocas- a major party hostel, best known for its crazy nights, and THE water trampoline. There turned out not to be that many beds in the hostel, though, so our party was lucky and scored the last few spots when we turned up. Lindsay and I ended up in a dorm with a large group of Israeli guys, some French dudes, and a pair of 18-year-old surfers [Jordan from Canada, and Yotom from Israel]. We said hi to everyone as we put our stuff away, but left right away to find a place to eat. On our way out the back door we ran into Ben from Montezuma- we'd been in communication with him about our plans to go to Bocas and thought there was a 50/50 chance he'd show up. It was nice to see another familiar face; the three of us headed out to grab some lunch.
After lunch [a laborious process of finding a restaurant and waiting for food that took us until 3:00pm], we just hung out at the hostel, talked with the guys we'd ridden down with, swam, and relaxed. Around 6:00pm, Lindsay and I decided to head to the main island for some exploring/dinner, and managed to convince Ben, Kain, Zac, and Kevin to come along. Turned out to be a good thing we left for dinner so early- we wouldn't end up eating for another three hours anyway.
Celebration!
We manage to arrive on Isla Colon at the exact perfect moment to watch the Independence Day Parade. The streets were swarming with people- everyone from every island had come to congregate on Isla Colon for the evening. The parade was made up of at least five separate groups of baton twirlers/drum lines [each with their own distinctive outfits], and in between each group, random guys would be walking around spraying fire from a can [seriously], or lighting off fireworks in the middle of the crowd- one batch of pyromaniacs lit theirs off so close to us, I could feel the hot ash raining down. The atmosphere was incredibly festive, and the music was so invigorating I don't think any of us stopped bobbing to the beat the entire two and a half hours we stood there. Our group definitely stood out- some of the only foreigners, and consistently exclaiming about something in the parade. We were probably just as interesting a spectacle for the Panamanians as the performers....
Eventually it got late enough that we needed food- fast. We searched the main road for a cheap rotisserie chicken place that had been recommended to us, and after successfully annoying the workers [mainly thanks to Kain's "chicken dance" while attempting to convey his order...], we sat down to the best chicken I can remember having. Ever. The delicious French fries that accompanied the meal didn't hurt, either. Having satisfied our bellies, we wandered back up the street to catch the parade's finale, in the process simultaneously meeting another group of travelers and losing Kevin. After pacing the streets shouting "Kevin from Switzerland!" at the top of our lungs for 20 unsuccessful minutes, we gave up looking for him [<- terrible travel buddies, I know], and headed to a local bar/dance club. [Hey, Kevin eventually made his way there as well, so it all turned out okay. Stop with the guilting.]
Ended up seeing most of the others from Aqua Lounge at the bar, and we danced insanely for a few hours. Hot, sweaty, crowded- and so much fun. Eventually Lindsay and I headed back to the hostel, though, to try and get some sleep before our tour
Yes I Will Lounge on a Catamaran for Seven Hours
^That's exactly what Lindsay and I did from 9:00am-4:00pm on Saturday. With a bit of dolphin watching [I saw one's back] and snorkeling [for, like, 20 minutes] thrown in. But the day was spent mostly sunbathing [and burning] on a catamaran. We lucked out with the weather- apparently it was the first gloriously sunny day in over a week. Success!
Saturday evening Lindsay and I showered and headed into town for an early dinner. We had okay sushi, but really delicious martinis, so overall dinner was good ;) Then we headed back to Aqua Lounge because that's where the big party was going to be. Plus it was Ladies' Night, which in Latin America means free drinks for girls for an hour. I ended up heading back to Isla Colon for about an hour with Jordan and Yotom- searching for an Internet cafe for Yotom- and we made it back to the hostel at the very end of Ladies' Night [literally, we arrived at 10:33pm, when free drinks were supposed to end at 10:30pm]. But somehow I managed to squeeze in getting three free drinks- two of which I gave to the guys, no worries Mom.
Saturday night was essentially a repeat of Friday- but much more fun, for some reason. Lots of dancing, meeting people, good music, etc. The bar closed at 3:00am and all non-guests were kicked out, but the rest of us staying at the hostel continued to hang out. I ended up crawling into bed around 5:00am, while Lindsay didn't come into the dorm until 6:20am- 20 minutes before we had to wake up to catch our ferry back to Costa Rica.... We both were feeling really great when the alarm went off at 6:45am.
Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig
Ferry to dock, shuttle to border, second shuttle to Puerto Viejo, just missed early bus to San Jose, waited for five hours until 4:00pm for bus to the capital, waited at sketchy station until 10:00pm for bus back to Atenas. Was asleep before head hit the pillow, and waking up Monday was brutal.
I feel like our trip to Bocas del Toro was my favorite because it had all the aspects of what traveling should be like. Parades, fireworks, music, dancing, delicious & cheap food, fun people to group up with, gorgeous scenery, late nights, and a bit of relaxation, just for kicks. In one word: amazing.
And did I mention we went to PANAMA???
xoxo, Cleome
Monday, November 26, 2012
Weekend #4: Montezuma [aka The Non-Existant Post]
I've written about this weekend in immaculate detail TWICE now. And both times the posts magically deleted themselves. Incredibly frustrating. I know the third time's normally the charm, but I just can't.
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
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