I. Have. Five. Days. Left.
Holy shit. [ <-- excuse the French]
My time in Nice (and Cannes) and Barcelona was really fun. Full of sun, beach time, cool people, and magical fountains. Plus, I snuck into the VIP section of the Cannes Film Fest and felt super badass. But you'll have to ask me about that in person.... I'm currently in the beach town of Tossa De Mar (north of Barcelona), just relaxing and soaking up some rays for the majority of my last week abroad. It's extra easy to enjoy being a beach bum when you know you have to hit the ground running with work literally four days after you get back home. Le sigh. Real life can be such a slap in the face.
But really? From eight months (!) to less than one week. How did this happen? Where did my gap year/walkabout/year abroad go??
I'm sure there's a similar feeling for those of you who just finished (or are finishing, Anri) your academic year. Especially if it was your freshman year of college. Yet your endings may have had a bit more jubilation and relief attached to them, whereas my thoughts about finishing up are sort of... conflicted.
On the one hand, I'm SO ready to be home. I want to see my family and friends. I'm ready to return to the familiarity and comfort of STP. And by all means give me some free, home-cooked meals, my own room and bed to sleep in, and access to a washer and dryer 24/7. Honestly, for stretches of days at a time within the past few weeks it feels like all I've done is count the days, hours, minutes until my plane arrives back in MN. At certain points recently I've just lost the will to travel: I don't want to walk around new cities, I don't want to pay for museums, I don't want to meet new friends I'll just say goodbye to a few days later, I don't want to take advantage of my legal drinking age, just get me HOME.
...But on the other side of that equation- I don't want to stop traveling. Returning home means going back to having parents [whom I love! But nevertheless it'll retract a bit of my complete independence], to beginning jobs and having responsibilities, to doing chores, to sinking back into "real life." No more exploring large, new, foreign cities at night with a crew of other travelers; no more "playing tourist" in the hopes of riding the metro for free; no more recounting travel tales without feeling like I'm bragging, and no longer will my biggest problem be whether or not the sun will stay out long enough for me to get five hours of beach time in instead of four....
As I've been discussing with other travelers recently, being away from your normal routine for an extended period of time is always an amazing, surreal experience. Yet once you get back, sure there's some culture shock or whatever, but soon enough you've settled back into your old ways of life, and you think to yourself "Did I actually do that? Was I really drinking Long Island iced teas in the south of France only one month ago?" It's depressing. I don't want to believe an experience like this- and especially one so [dare I say it?] life-changing- could just fade into a fond, dreamlike memory.
Because I can honestly say that this year- this decision to embark on a year abroad- has been the best thing I've ever done. I've learned so much about myself, about being self-sufficient, about how life really IS what you make of it. I've met incredible, fun, inspiring people, people who became my best friends for days, weeks, and months. I've had amazing, new experiences. I've seen beautiful, historic, breathtaking places. I [pretty much] skipped winter. I caught up a bit on my sleep debt. Traveling has lots of pros :)
I really did this by myself- was on my own, completely independent. And I've certainly grown from that. Maybe in ways that are apparent, maybe not. One thing I am sure of, though, is that I am NOT that same little, unworldly, sheltered girl who stepped naïvely onto a plane bound for Costa Rica last September.
No fucking way.
I'll see y'all soon!
xoxo, Cleome
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Friday, May 31, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Ciao Ciao
Gray day in Venice. Luckily I've got a nice apartment, five cool American chicks, and- of course- this blog post to keep me going :)
My time in Italy is up! One day more and I head for the hills. Literally- I'm going to Vienna. And gaining a travel buddy (finally) along the way. It's crazy to imagine I've been solo-but-not-alone backpacking for essentially one whole month now. And I've got basically only one month (okay, five weeks) left until I return from my time abroad. I'll have been out for eight of the past twelve months once I touch down in STP. Insane.
But it's a bit too early to get nostalgic for experiences I'm still not through with. Let's talk about Italy.
Roma
Rome I already briefed y'all about. Amazing city to walk around in, but I moved on pretty quickly [in retrospect, definitely WAY too quickly] due to my severely lacking social scene.... C'est la vie.
Firenze
Florence is where I left off in blog world. I stayed there four nights (the longest of any city in Italy- and actually in my backpacking journey so far) because I really just couldn't get enough of the city! To me, it felt like Rome on a smaller, more Cleome-friendly scale: less streets to get lost on, a bit calmer vibe, gorgeous river in the middle with actual grassy banks, and still lots of old buildings and museums to go check out.
Another reason I felt no need to rush out was thanks to the cool people I met (at last!). I met a guy studying in Rome, Max, my first night, who acted like my guide around Florence for a day. A fun group of five American girls studying in Grenoble (France) checked in the next night, and that's who I'm staying with in this apartment in Venice. And I found a museum-going buddy in Robin on my last full day in town. So a much better friend scene there, which allowed me to take my time and enjoy the sites a little less hurriedly than in Rome.
Florence is definitely near the top of my "Favorite Cities I've Seen" list.
Bologna [I think the English and Italian names are the same...]
Now this was a different type of tourist experience.
For one, I was only going to Bologna because I had a place to stay (my dad's old Italian girlfriend and family live there- not that I'd ever met them... but in traveling, any and every connection is valid). I don't even think there's a hostel there. And two, Bologna is not really set up in any way for tourists. Which is great! Makes for a very authentic Italian town experience. But for all the pros (no entrance fees, no one speaking English, no people trying to sell you stuff on the street), there are also some cons... mainly that NO ONE speaks English. Makes it tricky to, say, buy a train ticket, or, for example, understand when people are yelling at you for entering a private art showing....
But I loved walking around the city! I pretty much just walked down cool looking streets, under all the archways, and into any open door I could find. Not many large monuments, but enough to keep you occupied for a good chunk of time. Also, Bologna has parts that are incredibly green and flowery and gorgeous. Which I was able to find thanks to having a tour guide in the form of Cinzia- my mother for the two days I stayed in Bologna :)
Getting that homestay feel in the middle of traveling was an experience too great for words. In backpacking you're always in a hostel, no privacy, strangers everywhere, everything costs you money, and you feel the need to go go go. Being able to sleep in a non-bunk bed, in my own room, have my meals cooked for me and my laundry done, was almost too much. I felt immediately at home, and just went into relaxation mode. Which was desperately needed. [Though now I'm finding it hard to motivate myself to get out and do my normal eight hours of walking a day....]
So I was really sad to leave Bologna. 'Nuff said.
Venezia
Venice is one of those cities I'm pretty sure the majority of the [Western] human population wants to see. Because it's supposed to be magical- it's a floating city, for goodness sake. One that may go underwater in the not too distant future... but let's not think about that.
[Also, not sure if everyone but me realized this, but an aerial map of Venice shows that the city looks like a fish. How cool!]
I think Venice is a nice place to visit, certainly, but a few days is by far enough (for me). It's so cool walking around as there are no cars, narrow, twisting alleyways lead everywhere, and you're surrounded by water. But the city is also extremely touristy, expensive (literally everything costs money- and more euros than the rest of Italy), and has NO nightlife. I'm serious. It's like a ghost town at night. So I guess a decent spot for a family vacation, then... haha.
Walking around and stepping into church entries (so I don't have to pay <- cheap backpacker tip), plus the occasional artsy shop has been fun. And getting lost in the crazy, non-planned city streets is definitely part of the Venetian experience. But after one more full day tomorrow (in which I'll be kicked out of the apartment where I've been holing myself up...) I think I'll have gotten my fill.
Though walking around at night, having the streets to yourself and taking in the reflection of lights on the water is quite magical. Venice works well for lovers I'd say, too.
To sum up Italy, I enjoyed every place I visited for different reasons.
Rome for the history and the walking and the monuments.
Florence for the atmosphere and the people.
Bologna for its authenticity and my insider experience.
Venice for its novelty.
Italy is a terribly beautiful country that inspires romance with every scene you drink in. Incredible cities. Ancient histories. Wonderful people (locals and travelers). Delicious food.
...But traveling through this country also burned a not-so-attractive hole in my pocket. I'm ready to stop living in poverty. I'm ready for Eastern Europe!
Vienna- it's on.
xoxo, Cleome
My time in Italy is up! One day more and I head for the hills. Literally- I'm going to Vienna. And gaining a travel buddy (finally) along the way. It's crazy to imagine I've been solo-but-not-alone backpacking for essentially one whole month now. And I've got basically only one month (okay, five weeks) left until I return from my time abroad. I'll have been out for eight of the past twelve months once I touch down in STP. Insane.
But it's a bit too early to get nostalgic for experiences I'm still not through with. Let's talk about Italy.
Roma
Rome I already briefed y'all about. Amazing city to walk around in, but I moved on pretty quickly [in retrospect, definitely WAY too quickly] due to my severely lacking social scene.... C'est la vie.
Firenze
Florence is where I left off in blog world. I stayed there four nights (the longest of any city in Italy- and actually in my backpacking journey so far) because I really just couldn't get enough of the city! To me, it felt like Rome on a smaller, more Cleome-friendly scale: less streets to get lost on, a bit calmer vibe, gorgeous river in the middle with actual grassy banks, and still lots of old buildings and museums to go check out.
Another reason I felt no need to rush out was thanks to the cool people I met (at last!). I met a guy studying in Rome, Max, my first night, who acted like my guide around Florence for a day. A fun group of five American girls studying in Grenoble (France) checked in the next night, and that's who I'm staying with in this apartment in Venice. And I found a museum-going buddy in Robin on my last full day in town. So a much better friend scene there, which allowed me to take my time and enjoy the sites a little less hurriedly than in Rome.
Florence is definitely near the top of my "Favorite Cities I've Seen" list.
Bologna [I think the English and Italian names are the same...]
Now this was a different type of tourist experience.
For one, I was only going to Bologna because I had a place to stay (my dad's old Italian girlfriend and family live there- not that I'd ever met them... but in traveling, any and every connection is valid). I don't even think there's a hostel there. And two, Bologna is not really set up in any way for tourists. Which is great! Makes for a very authentic Italian town experience. But for all the pros (no entrance fees, no one speaking English, no people trying to sell you stuff on the street), there are also some cons... mainly that NO ONE speaks English. Makes it tricky to, say, buy a train ticket, or, for example, understand when people are yelling at you for entering a private art showing....
But I loved walking around the city! I pretty much just walked down cool looking streets, under all the archways, and into any open door I could find. Not many large monuments, but enough to keep you occupied for a good chunk of time. Also, Bologna has parts that are incredibly green and flowery and gorgeous. Which I was able to find thanks to having a tour guide in the form of Cinzia- my mother for the two days I stayed in Bologna :)
Getting that homestay feel in the middle of traveling was an experience too great for words. In backpacking you're always in a hostel, no privacy, strangers everywhere, everything costs you money, and you feel the need to go go go. Being able to sleep in a non-bunk bed, in my own room, have my meals cooked for me and my laundry done, was almost too much. I felt immediately at home, and just went into relaxation mode. Which was desperately needed. [Though now I'm finding it hard to motivate myself to get out and do my normal eight hours of walking a day....]
So I was really sad to leave Bologna. 'Nuff said.
Venezia
Venice is one of those cities I'm pretty sure the majority of the [Western] human population wants to see. Because it's supposed to be magical- it's a floating city, for goodness sake. One that may go underwater in the not too distant future... but let's not think about that.
[Also, not sure if everyone but me realized this, but an aerial map of Venice shows that the city looks like a fish. How cool!]
I think Venice is a nice place to visit, certainly, but a few days is by far enough (for me). It's so cool walking around as there are no cars, narrow, twisting alleyways lead everywhere, and you're surrounded by water. But the city is also extremely touristy, expensive (literally everything costs money- and more euros than the rest of Italy), and has NO nightlife. I'm serious. It's like a ghost town at night. So I guess a decent spot for a family vacation, then... haha.
Walking around and stepping into church entries (so I don't have to pay <- cheap backpacker tip), plus the occasional artsy shop has been fun. And getting lost in the crazy, non-planned city streets is definitely part of the Venetian experience. But after one more full day tomorrow (in which I'll be kicked out of the apartment where I've been holing myself up...) I think I'll have gotten my fill.
Though walking around at night, having the streets to yourself and taking in the reflection of lights on the water is quite magical. Venice works well for lovers I'd say, too.
To sum up Italy, I enjoyed every place I visited for different reasons.
Rome for the history and the walking and the monuments.
Florence for the atmosphere and the people.
Bologna for its authenticity and my insider experience.
Venice for its novelty.
Italy is a terribly beautiful country that inspires romance with every scene you drink in. Incredible cities. Ancient histories. Wonderful people (locals and travelers). Delicious food.
...But traveling through this country also burned a not-so-attractive hole in my pocket. I'm ready to stop living in poverty. I'm ready for Eastern Europe!
Vienna- it's on.
xoxo, Cleome
Saturday, April 20, 2013
[Nearly] Three Weeks In
I'm currently sitting in the reception area of a hostel in downtown Rome, minutes from the main Termini station. Since all I really have on the agenda today is to make it to Florence by mid-afternoon (as opposed to my last couple weeks of what feels like non-stop activities crammed into each and every day), I figured this was a good time to write a quick update on my solo traveling adventures. Here goes!
Week 1: Jerusalem, Mitzpe Ramon (Israel)
I left my volunteer position at the Fauzi at the beginning of April- literally April 1. I, accompanied by my volunteer bestie Jake who had a few days off, headed to Jerusalem to base ourselves there for a couple of days. While there I finally got around to doing all the major touristy stuff, haha: hiked the snake path up to the ruins of Masada, swam (floated?) in the Dead Sea, and hiked through the natural oasis of Ein Gedi. I had fun, but mainly enjoyed being able to check them off my Israel to do list... they'd sort of been hanging over my head. <- And that may sound really flippant, but I think I've slightly overloaded on gorgeous treks and ancient Roman/Ottoman/Byzantine ruins. There happen to be a ton all over Israel. So while they were still nice to visit, I wasn't as wowed as a first-timer would've been, I'm sure.
Jake left me to return to Nazareth on Wednesday, and so Thursday morning I set out to my first real location where I didn't know anyone: Mitzpe Ramon, a town situated in the middle of the Negev desert. The draw of Mitzpe is that it happens to be right next to this huge crater-like thing (but it's not a crater!) called a makhtesh. Only seven makhtesh exist in the world; five in Israel and two in Jordan. I'm not exactly sure on the actual differences between a makhtesh and crater... but makhtesh aren't formed by meteors or eruptions or anything- it's all about the natural shifts of the earth that happen in a particular sequence. Anyway, I LOVED it there- stayed for three nights. I did a few different desert hikes that were just amazing, got some sun, and did I mention that the Green Backpackers hostel was incredible? Great vibe, intimate, run by accredited tour guides, and attracted the coolest people (other guests and volunteers). We had a communal dinner, movie night, poker game (which I won!), and lots of interesting conversations. I felt extremely comfortable there and was sad to leave. But I didn't stay as I had other places I really wanted to visit, too.
Week 2: Petra (Jordan), Eilat, Mishmar Haemek, Nazareth (Israel)
I managed to pick up a travel buddy in Mitzpe Ramon- this cool Argentinian named Jose who happened to be a hostel volunteer at Green Backpackers, but used his free days to travel south with me to the beaches of Eilat. We missed our bus... but it turned out for the best as we hitch hiked and arrived at the resort town earlier and for free. We spent two days just picking out beaches to hit up, playing guitar, speaking Spanish (attempting to, on my part...), snorkeling (so good there! An amazing variety of vibrant fish), and chilling on the hostel patio at night. I had a great time, and parting was bittersweet. I hope we meet up again someday.
After Eilat I joined an old person tour to the ancient Nabitian city of Petra, located about two hours over the border in Jordan. I spent two days wandering around one of the eight wonders of the ancient world, and it was an incredible, impressive sight to behold. The city was just so picturesque- and extensive! Right when you thought you'd reached the outskirts, another little path was leading you up a million stairs to some other monastery.... I spent two days there and still didn't get to see everything. A definite highlight from Petra was also getting to stay in a real hotel (part of the tour package). A non-bunk bed. My own bathroom. A full-length mirror. I was in heaven. Took full advantage of my privacy and just stripped and flung myself on the bed. It felt soooo good. <- by far the nicest place I have stayed and will stay while traveling alone.
Once I was let back into Israel (there was a bit of border iffiness, but they finally let me through), I took a series of busses over the course of eight hours to get to my friend Jess's kibbutz in the north- about one hour from Nazareth. I'd been there once before for a day, so arriving again felt a bit like coming home... or at least to a relievingly familiar place with familiar people. It was so much fun hanging out on the kibbutz for a night with Jess and her friends again. They're always a fun group to see :)
On Friday I bid farewell to the kibbutzers and headed off with Jess to Nazareth (she wanted to come back for a few hours to say hi). We arrived at the Fauzi, and that definitely felt like coming home: we knew the town, the people, and it all felt so normal. Though I have to say, returning to a place you already left always feels a bit weird. Like you're coming into another dimension's version of that area, sci-fi- everything's the same, but different, too.... Regardless, it was really nice having a place to stay, eat, and do laundry for free before leaving Israel- the next day I'd be setting off for only unfamiliar locales where I have 0 connections. Which was simultaneously freaky and exhilarating.
Goodbyes while traveling are always hard, and even more-so when it's with people you've gotten to know really well. Saying goodbye to Jess was difficult- she was my best friend in Nazareth for almost a month, and we really bonded. Our goodbye was more of a see-you-later. I sincerely hope we meet again. Plus, I'll have gotten her some cool present by that point as a thanks for her incredibly touching gift of a hamza necklace (which I haven't taken off since I got it). Love and miss you Jess! I also had to say bye to Jake, but we can meet up in the States, so. And the last person I said goodbye to was Hagai, an amazing night receptionist, even if he hates people ;) He saw me to the train station, and from there I was on my way to fly to Europe!
Week 3: Athens (Greece), Rome (Italy)
And then I got to continental Europe! My first day in Athens was more of a catch-up-on-sleep day, as I'd been ridiculously interrogated by israeli security throughout the early morning hours for whatever reason. When I finally felt like getting out, I was immediately overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness. Here's an excerpt from an email I sent my parents that first day:
"So much of a good time traveling is about meeting others. No way in hell am I going to spend 6 weeks walking around and doing everything alone. Maybe I'm not ready to be an independent backpacker. Maybe we all overestimated my abilities to get out there, be social, be alone, and SURVIVE. Or at least enjoy it.
Clearly I'm still not feeling very positive. I had a good thing going in Israel. I had friends, a community, knowledge of the transportation system and what to do in each location I visited. Out here I have nil. And a major dip in self-confidence.
Part of me wants to end this now and just come home.
I'm too afraid to hack it solo in this big world."
...So I was being a bit dramatic. But looking past the woe-is-me stuff, I actually was feeling like I'd made a huge mistake. And then literally as I was sitting in the hostel, about to write another depressed email, my knight in shining armor [hi MJ!] sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. And from there my time in Athens was bomb :)
I found myself a part of an awesome crew of two other 18-year-old girl solo travelers (!), and this Canadian dude. We had dinners together, roamed Athens at night, went off to a lake, and just had each other's backs. It was great, and though we were only together two days, it was extremely sad parting from them. But I think we met because forces in the universe wanted to give all of us young, independent girls a confidence boost: you are badass, check out these other chicks who are just as amazing as you are! Oh, and Athens itself? A really cool city. All monuments are located in one spot, the city feels extremely safe, and walking around was fun. A great intro to Europe.
And last but not least, Rome! This incredible city I've heard so much about. And boy does it live up to expectations. I literally spent two full days (at least eight hours) wandering the streets of Rome. Part of that may have to do with my lack of map-reading skills as opposed to how far everything is, but hey, it's a great way to see more of a city than you were originally planning, yeah? There are not only important historic sites every street you turn down, but some of the neighborhoods are adorable, there is so much greenery, and the street fashions make people-watching super cool.
The only bummer with Rome is the people. Not the Italians or anything- my personal people. The people I'm bonding with and exploring all the nooks and crannies of Rome with. The people who don't exist. [Don't get me wrong- I've met people, and even went out to get authentic Italian pasta with someone, but I have no CREW. Which is what I want and what I'm missing.]
So I'm off to Florence today. You could spend months in Rome and still not know it all, but after two days I've hit all the major sites, and think I know what the city's about. I'll come back, maybe. But for now I'm moving on.
Let's go, baby.
xoxo, Cleome
Week 1: Jerusalem, Mitzpe Ramon (Israel)
I left my volunteer position at the Fauzi at the beginning of April- literally April 1. I, accompanied by my volunteer bestie Jake who had a few days off, headed to Jerusalem to base ourselves there for a couple of days. While there I finally got around to doing all the major touristy stuff, haha: hiked the snake path up to the ruins of Masada, swam (floated?) in the Dead Sea, and hiked through the natural oasis of Ein Gedi. I had fun, but mainly enjoyed being able to check them off my Israel to do list... they'd sort of been hanging over my head. <- And that may sound really flippant, but I think I've slightly overloaded on gorgeous treks and ancient Roman/Ottoman/Byzantine ruins. There happen to be a ton all over Israel. So while they were still nice to visit, I wasn't as wowed as a first-timer would've been, I'm sure.
Jake left me to return to Nazareth on Wednesday, and so Thursday morning I set out to my first real location where I didn't know anyone: Mitzpe Ramon, a town situated in the middle of the Negev desert. The draw of Mitzpe is that it happens to be right next to this huge crater-like thing (but it's not a crater!) called a makhtesh. Only seven makhtesh exist in the world; five in Israel and two in Jordan. I'm not exactly sure on the actual differences between a makhtesh and crater... but makhtesh aren't formed by meteors or eruptions or anything- it's all about the natural shifts of the earth that happen in a particular sequence. Anyway, I LOVED it there- stayed for three nights. I did a few different desert hikes that were just amazing, got some sun, and did I mention that the Green Backpackers hostel was incredible? Great vibe, intimate, run by accredited tour guides, and attracted the coolest people (other guests and volunteers). We had a communal dinner, movie night, poker game (which I won!), and lots of interesting conversations. I felt extremely comfortable there and was sad to leave. But I didn't stay as I had other places I really wanted to visit, too.
Week 2: Petra (Jordan), Eilat, Mishmar Haemek, Nazareth (Israel)
I managed to pick up a travel buddy in Mitzpe Ramon- this cool Argentinian named Jose who happened to be a hostel volunteer at Green Backpackers, but used his free days to travel south with me to the beaches of Eilat. We missed our bus... but it turned out for the best as we hitch hiked and arrived at the resort town earlier and for free. We spent two days just picking out beaches to hit up, playing guitar, speaking Spanish (attempting to, on my part...), snorkeling (so good there! An amazing variety of vibrant fish), and chilling on the hostel patio at night. I had a great time, and parting was bittersweet. I hope we meet up again someday.
After Eilat I joined an old person tour to the ancient Nabitian city of Petra, located about two hours over the border in Jordan. I spent two days wandering around one of the eight wonders of the ancient world, and it was an incredible, impressive sight to behold. The city was just so picturesque- and extensive! Right when you thought you'd reached the outskirts, another little path was leading you up a million stairs to some other monastery.... I spent two days there and still didn't get to see everything. A definite highlight from Petra was also getting to stay in a real hotel (part of the tour package). A non-bunk bed. My own bathroom. A full-length mirror. I was in heaven. Took full advantage of my privacy and just stripped and flung myself on the bed. It felt soooo good. <- by far the nicest place I have stayed and will stay while traveling alone.
Once I was let back into Israel (there was a bit of border iffiness, but they finally let me through), I took a series of busses over the course of eight hours to get to my friend Jess's kibbutz in the north- about one hour from Nazareth. I'd been there once before for a day, so arriving again felt a bit like coming home... or at least to a relievingly familiar place with familiar people. It was so much fun hanging out on the kibbutz for a night with Jess and her friends again. They're always a fun group to see :)
On Friday I bid farewell to the kibbutzers and headed off with Jess to Nazareth (she wanted to come back for a few hours to say hi). We arrived at the Fauzi, and that definitely felt like coming home: we knew the town, the people, and it all felt so normal. Though I have to say, returning to a place you already left always feels a bit weird. Like you're coming into another dimension's version of that area, sci-fi- everything's the same, but different, too.... Regardless, it was really nice having a place to stay, eat, and do laundry for free before leaving Israel- the next day I'd be setting off for only unfamiliar locales where I have 0 connections. Which was simultaneously freaky and exhilarating.
Goodbyes while traveling are always hard, and even more-so when it's with people you've gotten to know really well. Saying goodbye to Jess was difficult- she was my best friend in Nazareth for almost a month, and we really bonded. Our goodbye was more of a see-you-later. I sincerely hope we meet again. Plus, I'll have gotten her some cool present by that point as a thanks for her incredibly touching gift of a hamza necklace (which I haven't taken off since I got it). Love and miss you Jess! I also had to say bye to Jake, but we can meet up in the States, so. And the last person I said goodbye to was Hagai, an amazing night receptionist, even if he hates people ;) He saw me to the train station, and from there I was on my way to fly to Europe!
Week 3: Athens (Greece), Rome (Italy)
And then I got to continental Europe! My first day in Athens was more of a catch-up-on-sleep day, as I'd been ridiculously interrogated by israeli security throughout the early morning hours for whatever reason. When I finally felt like getting out, I was immediately overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness. Here's an excerpt from an email I sent my parents that first day:
"So much of a good time traveling is about meeting others. No way in hell am I going to spend 6 weeks walking around and doing everything alone. Maybe I'm not ready to be an independent backpacker. Maybe we all overestimated my abilities to get out there, be social, be alone, and SURVIVE. Or at least enjoy it.
Clearly I'm still not feeling very positive. I had a good thing going in Israel. I had friends, a community, knowledge of the transportation system and what to do in each location I visited. Out here I have nil. And a major dip in self-confidence.
Part of me wants to end this now and just come home.
I'm too afraid to hack it solo in this big world."
...So I was being a bit dramatic. But looking past the woe-is-me stuff, I actually was feeling like I'd made a huge mistake. And then literally as I was sitting in the hostel, about to write another depressed email, my knight in shining armor [hi MJ!] sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. And from there my time in Athens was bomb :)
I found myself a part of an awesome crew of two other 18-year-old girl solo travelers (!), and this Canadian dude. We had dinners together, roamed Athens at night, went off to a lake, and just had each other's backs. It was great, and though we were only together two days, it was extremely sad parting from them. But I think we met because forces in the universe wanted to give all of us young, independent girls a confidence boost: you are badass, check out these other chicks who are just as amazing as you are! Oh, and Athens itself? A really cool city. All monuments are located in one spot, the city feels extremely safe, and walking around was fun. A great intro to Europe.
And last but not least, Rome! This incredible city I've heard so much about. And boy does it live up to expectations. I literally spent two full days (at least eight hours) wandering the streets of Rome. Part of that may have to do with my lack of map-reading skills as opposed to how far everything is, but hey, it's a great way to see more of a city than you were originally planning, yeah? There are not only important historic sites every street you turn down, but some of the neighborhoods are adorable, there is so much greenery, and the street fashions make people-watching super cool.
The only bummer with Rome is the people. Not the Italians or anything- my personal people. The people I'm bonding with and exploring all the nooks and crannies of Rome with. The people who don't exist. [Don't get me wrong- I've met people, and even went out to get authentic Italian pasta with someone, but I have no CREW. Which is what I want and what I'm missing.]
So I'm off to Florence today. You could spend months in Rome and still not know it all, but after two days I've hit all the major sites, and think I know what the city's about. I'll come back, maybe. But for now I'm moving on.
Let's go, baby.
xoxo, Cleome
Friday, March 29, 2013
Highlights, High Fives, and High Hopes
Alright, because I've been so lame about posting on the blog for the past month (or two...), I'm going to hit you with a long-yet-relatively-undescriptive list of Cleome's Favorite Things while having been a volunteer at the Fauzi Azar Inn.
Which I figured I should do before I set off on my true backpacking adventure on Sunday (!)
Cleome's Favorite Israeli [fill-in-the-blank]:
Ruins~
•Caesarea- Huge city complex from Caesar's era.
•Megiddo- Where "Armageddon" is supposed to take place.
•Arbel Castle- Crusader castle carved out of the cliffs. A real-life Treasure Island playground.
•Heridion- Kind Herod's castle on (and under) a hill.
Museums~
•Yad Vashem- Holocaust museum. Surprisingly not as depressing as I'd been expecting.
•Israel Museum- Lots of exhibits and art about/from Israel (duh).
People~
•Guests
- ones I learned from
- ones with crazy adventures
- ones I connected with and were fun to talk to
- ones that became possible contacts throughout the world
• My Israeli family I'd seen only once before (and definitely didn't remember). So cool to have relatives in other countries!
• Locals. Extremely hospitable and interested in showing off their culture. Extremely friendly, for the most part.
• Other volunteers/staff members. Of course. Who I worked with and chilled with. They're the ones with the most impact on making this experience what it was. Shout out to Jess, Pat, Mike, Jake, Hagai, Elisa, Linda, Yafit, Marwa, Norhan, Maoz, Suraida, Gangaanai, and James.
Hikes and Nature~
•Yehudea- Golan Heights nature reserve with amazing natural pools and views.
•Arbel Cliffs- Crusader castles.
•Jesus trail- Varied landscapes on a fairly easy (but long) hike.
•walk from kibbutz to Nazareth- a six hour/30 kilometer walk I'm very proud of having accomplished completely on my own due to the lack of public transportation on Saturdays. And I still made it back in time for my shift. Booyah!
Events~
•going out (Patra, tel aviv, Jerusalem)- always fun
•visiting Jess- I stayed at her Kibbutz for a day and had a blast seeing her again :)
•peanut butter find- yes, I am including inheriting two jars of peanut butter left by guests as one of my favorite events. Stereotypical American, what can I say?
•learning Arabic- sort of...
•guitar playing at the Fauzi- I have been practicing, Dad.
Extended Trips~
•Jerusalem- Breaking the Silence tour of the South Hebron Hills, seeing Israeli family, free official pub crawl, stalking Obama, visiting museums, walking around, seeing Bethlehem & Banksy originals
•Tel Aviv- meeting cool people, getting a taste of the nightlife, visiting the old port city of Jaffa
First Times~
•smoking hookah/nargila- didn't really like it, but was definitely entranced by the smoke rings others could make.
•official pub crawl- at 18. In Jerusalem. Totally free. Yeah.
•hitch-hiking alone- during daylight and picked up by a girl. Stop freaking out Mom.
•visiting west bank- my second week I went to the town of Jenin with Jess. It really stuck with me as I honestly hadn't even imagined I'd feel safe enough to go to the West Bank. Clearly perspectives change when you actually arrive in a place you'd heard nothing but negative things about before...
•staying on a kibbutz- yeah, I really liked the night I spent on the kibbutz with Jess. Do I think I could live on one (or even volunteer there for a couple months)? Probably not. But for a short visit it was incredibly fun to experience a different way of life.
And those are just the highlights I could come up with off the top of my head. I've had an amazing time being based in Nazareth, and am conflicted about leaving in a handful of days. On one hand, I've grown comfortable here and have a community, friends, and bed to sleep in that I can call my own. Alternatively, I think my life here is now too familiar. I more or less have a daily routine, talk to the same people (mainly), and have lost the motivation to explore/go on day trips [though being sick the last week may have contributed to that also...]. Anyway, I think it's a good time to be moving on. I'm not yet sick of the place, but I am getting there. Some days have been almost boring, and at times I've wanted to punch a few people in the face I was so annoyed by them... so it's probably best I'm on my way soon ;)
Being a hostel volunteer at the Fauzi has been by far my favorite volunteer experience I've had on my year abroad- I've met some incredible people and had some unparalleled experiences. I can't imagine having chosen anything more fun or beneficial, and I know what I've learned here will help ease me into traveling on my own [regardless of how terrifying that still seems].
I thank the Fauzi, Nazareth, and all the incredible friends I've made for a great two months volunteering.
And here's to a fucking awesome final two months of my walkabout- bring on the backpacking!
xoxo, Cleome
Which I figured I should do before I set off on my true backpacking adventure on Sunday (!)
Cleome's Favorite Israeli [fill-in-the-blank]:
Ruins~
•Caesarea- Huge city complex from Caesar's era.
•Megiddo- Where "Armageddon" is supposed to take place.
•Arbel Castle- Crusader castle carved out of the cliffs. A real-life Treasure Island playground.
•Heridion- Kind Herod's castle on (and under) a hill.
Museums~
•Yad Vashem- Holocaust museum. Surprisingly not as depressing as I'd been expecting.
•Israel Museum- Lots of exhibits and art about/from Israel (duh).
People~
•Guests
- ones I learned from
- ones with crazy adventures
- ones I connected with and were fun to talk to
- ones that became possible contacts throughout the world
• My Israeli family I'd seen only once before (and definitely didn't remember). So cool to have relatives in other countries!
• Locals. Extremely hospitable and interested in showing off their culture. Extremely friendly, for the most part.
• Other volunteers/staff members. Of course. Who I worked with and chilled with. They're the ones with the most impact on making this experience what it was. Shout out to Jess, Pat, Mike, Jake, Hagai, Elisa, Linda, Yafit, Marwa, Norhan, Maoz, Suraida, Gangaanai, and James.
Hikes and Nature~
•Yehudea- Golan Heights nature reserve with amazing natural pools and views.
•Arbel Cliffs- Crusader castles.
•Jesus trail- Varied landscapes on a fairly easy (but long) hike.
•walk from kibbutz to Nazareth- a six hour/30 kilometer walk I'm very proud of having accomplished completely on my own due to the lack of public transportation on Saturdays. And I still made it back in time for my shift. Booyah!
Events~
•going out (Patra, tel aviv, Jerusalem)- always fun
•visiting Jess- I stayed at her Kibbutz for a day and had a blast seeing her again :)
•peanut butter find- yes, I am including inheriting two jars of peanut butter left by guests as one of my favorite events. Stereotypical American, what can I say?
•learning Arabic- sort of...
•guitar playing at the Fauzi- I have been practicing, Dad.
Extended Trips~
•Jerusalem- Breaking the Silence tour of the South Hebron Hills, seeing Israeli family, free official pub crawl, stalking Obama, visiting museums, walking around, seeing Bethlehem & Banksy originals
•Tel Aviv- meeting cool people, getting a taste of the nightlife, visiting the old port city of Jaffa
First Times~
•smoking hookah/nargila- didn't really like it, but was definitely entranced by the smoke rings others could make.
•official pub crawl- at 18. In Jerusalem. Totally free. Yeah.
•hitch-hiking alone- during daylight and picked up by a girl. Stop freaking out Mom.
•visiting west bank- my second week I went to the town of Jenin with Jess. It really stuck with me as I honestly hadn't even imagined I'd feel safe enough to go to the West Bank. Clearly perspectives change when you actually arrive in a place you'd heard nothing but negative things about before...
•staying on a kibbutz- yeah, I really liked the night I spent on the kibbutz with Jess. Do I think I could live on one (or even volunteer there for a couple months)? Probably not. But for a short visit it was incredibly fun to experience a different way of life.
And those are just the highlights I could come up with off the top of my head. I've had an amazing time being based in Nazareth, and am conflicted about leaving in a handful of days. On one hand, I've grown comfortable here and have a community, friends, and bed to sleep in that I can call my own. Alternatively, I think my life here is now too familiar. I more or less have a daily routine, talk to the same people (mainly), and have lost the motivation to explore/go on day trips [though being sick the last week may have contributed to that also...]. Anyway, I think it's a good time to be moving on. I'm not yet sick of the place, but I am getting there. Some days have been almost boring, and at times I've wanted to punch a few people in the face I was so annoyed by them... so it's probably best I'm on my way soon ;)
Being a hostel volunteer at the Fauzi has been by far my favorite volunteer experience I've had on my year abroad- I've met some incredible people and had some unparalleled experiences. I can't imagine having chosen anything more fun or beneficial, and I know what I've learned here will help ease me into traveling on my own [regardless of how terrifying that still seems].
I thank the Fauzi, Nazareth, and all the incredible friends I've made for a great two months volunteering.
And here's to a fucking awesome final two months of my walkabout- bring on the backpacking!
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
Monday, January 21, 2013
Things I'm Missing About Latin America (?)
-The unpredictable bus schedule that consistently demanded improvization in order to figure out what the hell I needed to do to get where I was supposed to go.
-Bus trips that inevitably took at least three hours longer than anticipated.
-Not possessing a key to the lock or the front gate, and therefore being effectively locked in or out of my own home.
-Paying for public bathroom use.
-Rice and beans 3x each day.
-Needing to throw the toilet paper in the waste basket instead of the toilet.
-Roosters and dogs being my 5:00am alarm clock.
-"Cold" and "extremely cold" showers being the only temperature options.
-The intense whiff of cologne that accompanied the passing of every single male.
-The lack of sunset/sunrise [yay for being almost directly on the equator].
-Inevitably spending anywhere from 16-20 hours of any weekend trip on a bus/waiting for one.
-Ants everywhere. Even somehow in my contact solution container....
-My nighttime gecko friends that lived in the walls of my room and scurried around at night, making unexpected noises.
-Meeting cool travelers.
-Never knowing what was going to happen.
-Making new friends every day.
-Going out dancing.
-Hearing/speaking a language other than English.
-Experiencing another culture.
-Rarely being bored.
-Warmth.
I want to be out again.
xoxo, Cleome
-Bus trips that inevitably took at least three hours longer than anticipated.
-Not possessing a key to the lock or the front gate, and therefore being effectively locked in or out of my own home.
-Paying for public bathroom use.
-Rice and beans 3x each day.
-Needing to throw the toilet paper in the waste basket instead of the toilet.
-Roosters and dogs being my 5:00am alarm clock.
-"Cold" and "extremely cold" showers being the only temperature options.
-The intense whiff of cologne that accompanied the passing of every single male.
-The lack of sunset/sunrise [yay for being almost directly on the equator].
-Inevitably spending anywhere from 16-20 hours of any weekend trip on a bus/waiting for one.
-Ants everywhere. Even somehow in my contact solution container....
-My nighttime gecko friends that lived in the walls of my room and scurried around at night, making unexpected noises.
-Meeting cool travelers.
-Never knowing what was going to happen.
-Making new friends every day.
-Going out dancing.
-Hearing/speaking a language other than English.
-Experiencing another culture.
-Rarely being bored.
-Warmth.
I want to be out again.
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
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Weekend Trip #3: Manuel Antonio
I've realized since I'm posting about these weekends so long after they happened, maybe dates would be a helpful detail. Right? My Manuel Antonio adventure took place the weekend of October 26, 27, and 28. [I realize this is almost a month behind, but bear with me- I'm slowly but surely working on becoming up-to-date.]
Manuel Antonio
Manuel Antonio is one of the most well-known national parks in Costa Rica. It's famed for the abundant amount of wildlife you can see there, as well as its three gorgeous beaches. While there are about a gagillion national parks in Costa Rica one could visit, the reason Lindsay and I [by this point Dean had gone] chose Manuel Antonio was because the large group of other volunteers we'd met the weekend before at La Fortuna (plus Floris, Jo, and this guy Sindre they'd picked up) were all going to be there as well. It was going to be one big reunion party. With a bit of nature on the side.
Getting There aka The Worst Travel Mishap of Them All
That title up there doesn't sound too promising, huh? Well you can decide for yourself after reading about how you'd categorize it. Here's what happened: So using our young, intelligent, technologically-capable brains, Lindsay and I had looked up buses from Atenas to Manuel Antonio on our friend thebusschedule.com, and had learned of the existence of a direct bus, leaving Atenas at 3:00pm. So we did our normal volunteering on Friday, got home and had lunch, and met up around 2:45pm at the corner to walk to the bus terminal together. Of course [having the amazing transportation luck that we do], it turns out the Manuel Antonio bus didn't stop at the central bus station. No, you had to flag it down on the side of the highway on the edge of town, whenever it happened to pass by. Hearing this, we raced to the highway stop, just in time to see a bus zoom past two seconds before we got there. Damn.
Obviously at that point we were not in our clearest frames of mind. We'd just witnessed the only bus of the day to our destination whiz past, and had no idea what to do. So naturally, we panicked, causing us to make a rash decision- one that would cost us three hours of needless travel time. We ended up flagging down a bus to San Jose that pulled up a few minutes after we got to the stop. We just jumped on, not really paying attention to the fact that the Manuel Antonio bus was heading in the opposite direstion of San Jose- we just figured that we could get anywhere from San Jose [which is true, so our wits hadn't completely fled us]. After an unhappy hour-long ride to the capital [filled with attempting to communicate in Spanish via texting with Lindsay's host sister about bus schedules], we arrived and jumped off the bus, racing over to the police stationed at the stop and asked how to get to Manuel Antonio. We learned that we'd want to find a bus to Quepos [a town 15 minutes from Manuel Antonio], but those buses left from a station all the way across town... great. Luckily the police guy we talked to was nice enough to find us a cab and tell him where to go [which also hopefully deterred him from cheating us]. The cab ride was not fun: it was through a clogged, noisy San Jose on a Friday afternoon; the cabbie appeared to be taking the longest route possible, and Lindsay and I were both still worried about actually finding a bus to take us there- at that point we were just hoping something would work out.
Our luck finally improved when we hit the bus station. The cab driver accepted less money than the meter said [we were only a few bucks short], there was a bus to Quepos that was leaving at 5:00pm [right when we arrived], and we got the bus to ourselves. No joke. An entire greyhound for just the two of us. It felt a bit creepy, but we just shook our heads and went with it. [While the bus eventually picked up some other people, by the time we were two hours into our four-hour ride we were once again the only two passengers.] We both kicked ourselves when the bus passed Atenas around 6:40pm, since it meant we'd wasted three hours and $10, but maybe it was meant to be, becuase thanks to being essentially chauffeured to Quepos, the bus driver was fine with stopping for us at a gas station when we had to pee.
The [Real] Weekend Begins
We got into Quepos around 9:00pm, caught the bus to Manuel Antonio at 9:30pm, and aririved at our hostel [and into a welcoming party] just before check-in time ended at 10:00pm. After putting our stuff away in the dorm room we were sharing with Floris, Jo, and Sindre [whom we were introduced to], all 10 of us [our dorm and the Canadians] headed out to a nearby bar for Ladies' Night. We all had a fun time talking and dancing, and headed back to the dorms around 2:00am for some much needed sleep.
Satuday was national park/beach day! After a free breakfast of flies with a side of pancakes [not kidding, unfortunately], we all suited up to get out in the gorgeous day. We wandered through the national park trails for about half an hour [being cheap and just listening in on groups that had paid for guides]. We saw snakes, lizards, spiders, monkeys, birds, and a racoon. But nothing too impressive [though at the end we saw a sloth with its baby, so that was really cool]. Then we checked out the three beaches contained in the park. The first was nice, but crowded. The second was small and secluded, but not very good for swimming. The third was perfect: empty, big, good-sized waves, warm water, and beautiful white sand. We spent a while there, doing flips, chicken fighting, and body surfing. By that point we all were pretty hungry, so we decided to leave the park and grab some lunch before heading back to the hostel to wash up.
Crocodile Crossing
In order to leave Manuel Antonio through the back entrance, you need to cross over a 10-foot wide river. There are rowboats sitting there to take you across, and you're supposed to tip the guys who give you a lift. Fair enough. However, the boat handlers that day were feeling a bit tricky, and when we climbed in they informed us it'd be $10 to cross this stream that looked like you could nearly jump over. We all looked at each other in disbelief, and hauled ass out of the boat. While the guys informed us it was way too deep to wade through, an adventurous member of our group hoisted his backpack and shoes over his head, and made it to the other side no problem. The rest of us followed suit- we were already in our bathing suits, so who cares if we got wet. [Me being shorter than the average guy did find the crossing a little harder- at its deepest the water came up to my chin- but I made it just fine.]. It was only when we hit the other side of the river, connected to the public beach and main road, that we saw the signs that said "Peligro: Cocodrillos" Danger: Crocodiles. Ooohhh. Well if one of us had gotten attacked, we probably would've regretted not paying the $10, but seeing as it all turned out okay, it was definitely worth getting wet.
Lunch was where everyone got their tans from that day. It was HOT. And very sunny. Towels were used as very attractive head coverings, and the sun even inspired three of the girls to go into a nearby store and buy fedoras [only $10! Don't tell...]. After a loooong wait, we got our food, were charged a ridiculous amount of "tax," and headed back to our hostel to relax a bit before nighttime hit. We ended up cooking at the hostel- a delicious mish-mash of food that included guacamole, pineapple (cut by yours truly), tortilla chips and cheese dip, and sausages. Oh, and Lindsay bought me a ginormous carrot, because I asked for it [thanks sister!]. Tiaan said grace [?] and then we dug in, polishing off the huge spread. We then played some card games, swung on the Tarzan swing, and danced down on the pool grounds. Eventually [it was Halloween weekend after all] we headed out to a costume party at a nearby bar [sans costumes, unfortunately- we were so under dressed]. We listened to the live band and had a good time, knowing that in the morning we'd have to say goodbye for probably the last time- we were all headed separate ways/half the group was leaving Costa Rica soon.
Sunday morning we once again chowed down our free breakfast of pancakes & flies, and then had a leisurely pack up/goodbye time before hitting the bus to Quepos. We hooked a direct bus from Quepos to San Jose [though we were planning on getting off at the roadside near Atenas], and zoned out for the four hours it took to get back "home." <- one of the few weekends we made it back before dark
A fun time, withthe sunburn to prove it just kidding, Mom ;)
xoxo, Cleome
Manuel Antonio
Manuel Antonio is one of the most well-known national parks in Costa Rica. It's famed for the abundant amount of wildlife you can see there, as well as its three gorgeous beaches. While there are about a gagillion national parks in Costa Rica one could visit, the reason Lindsay and I [by this point Dean had gone] chose Manuel Antonio was because the large group of other volunteers we'd met the weekend before at La Fortuna (plus Floris, Jo, and this guy Sindre they'd picked up) were all going to be there as well. It was going to be one big reunion party. With a bit of nature on the side.
Getting There aka The Worst Travel Mishap of Them All
That title up there doesn't sound too promising, huh? Well you can decide for yourself after reading about how you'd categorize it. Here's what happened: So using our young, intelligent, technologically-capable brains, Lindsay and I had looked up buses from Atenas to Manuel Antonio on our friend thebusschedule.com, and had learned of the existence of a direct bus, leaving Atenas at 3:00pm. So we did our normal volunteering on Friday, got home and had lunch, and met up around 2:45pm at the corner to walk to the bus terminal together. Of course [having the amazing transportation luck that we do], it turns out the Manuel Antonio bus didn't stop at the central bus station. No, you had to flag it down on the side of the highway on the edge of town, whenever it happened to pass by. Hearing this, we raced to the highway stop, just in time to see a bus zoom past two seconds before we got there. Damn.
Obviously at that point we were not in our clearest frames of mind. We'd just witnessed the only bus of the day to our destination whiz past, and had no idea what to do. So naturally, we panicked, causing us to make a rash decision- one that would cost us three hours of needless travel time. We ended up flagging down a bus to San Jose that pulled up a few minutes after we got to the stop. We just jumped on, not really paying attention to the fact that the Manuel Antonio bus was heading in the opposite direstion of San Jose- we just figured that we could get anywhere from San Jose [which is true, so our wits hadn't completely fled us]. After an unhappy hour-long ride to the capital [filled with attempting to communicate in Spanish via texting with Lindsay's host sister about bus schedules], we arrived and jumped off the bus, racing over to the police stationed at the stop and asked how to get to Manuel Antonio. We learned that we'd want to find a bus to Quepos [a town 15 minutes from Manuel Antonio], but those buses left from a station all the way across town... great. Luckily the police guy we talked to was nice enough to find us a cab and tell him where to go [which also hopefully deterred him from cheating us]. The cab ride was not fun: it was through a clogged, noisy San Jose on a Friday afternoon; the cabbie appeared to be taking the longest route possible, and Lindsay and I were both still worried about actually finding a bus to take us there- at that point we were just hoping something would work out.
Our luck finally improved when we hit the bus station. The cab driver accepted less money than the meter said [we were only a few bucks short], there was a bus to Quepos that was leaving at 5:00pm [right when we arrived], and we got the bus to ourselves. No joke. An entire greyhound for just the two of us. It felt a bit creepy, but we just shook our heads and went with it. [While the bus eventually picked up some other people, by the time we were two hours into our four-hour ride we were once again the only two passengers.] We both kicked ourselves when the bus passed Atenas around 6:40pm, since it meant we'd wasted three hours and $10, but maybe it was meant to be, becuase thanks to being essentially chauffeured to Quepos, the bus driver was fine with stopping for us at a gas station when we had to pee.
The [Real] Weekend Begins
We got into Quepos around 9:00pm, caught the bus to Manuel Antonio at 9:30pm, and aririved at our hostel [and into a welcoming party] just before check-in time ended at 10:00pm. After putting our stuff away in the dorm room we were sharing with Floris, Jo, and Sindre [whom we were introduced to], all 10 of us [our dorm and the Canadians] headed out to a nearby bar for Ladies' Night. We all had a fun time talking and dancing, and headed back to the dorms around 2:00am for some much needed sleep.
Satuday was national park/beach day! After a free breakfast of flies with a side of pancakes [not kidding, unfortunately], we all suited up to get out in the gorgeous day. We wandered through the national park trails for about half an hour [being cheap and just listening in on groups that had paid for guides]. We saw snakes, lizards, spiders, monkeys, birds, and a racoon. But nothing too impressive [though at the end we saw a sloth with its baby, so that was really cool]. Then we checked out the three beaches contained in the park. The first was nice, but crowded. The second was small and secluded, but not very good for swimming. The third was perfect: empty, big, good-sized waves, warm water, and beautiful white sand. We spent a while there, doing flips, chicken fighting, and body surfing. By that point we all were pretty hungry, so we decided to leave the park and grab some lunch before heading back to the hostel to wash up.
Crocodile Crossing
In order to leave Manuel Antonio through the back entrance, you need to cross over a 10-foot wide river. There are rowboats sitting there to take you across, and you're supposed to tip the guys who give you a lift. Fair enough. However, the boat handlers that day were feeling a bit tricky, and when we climbed in they informed us it'd be $10 to cross this stream that looked like you could nearly jump over. We all looked at each other in disbelief, and hauled ass out of the boat. While the guys informed us it was way too deep to wade through, an adventurous member of our group hoisted his backpack and shoes over his head, and made it to the other side no problem. The rest of us followed suit- we were already in our bathing suits, so who cares if we got wet. [Me being shorter than the average guy did find the crossing a little harder- at its deepest the water came up to my chin- but I made it just fine.]. It was only when we hit the other side of the river, connected to the public beach and main road, that we saw the signs that said "Peligro: Cocodrillos" Danger: Crocodiles. Ooohhh. Well if one of us had gotten attacked, we probably would've regretted not paying the $10, but seeing as it all turned out okay, it was definitely worth getting wet.
Lunch was where everyone got their tans from that day. It was HOT. And very sunny. Towels were used as very attractive head coverings, and the sun even inspired three of the girls to go into a nearby store and buy fedoras [only $10! Don't tell...]. After a loooong wait, we got our food, were charged a ridiculous amount of "tax," and headed back to our hostel to relax a bit before nighttime hit. We ended up cooking at the hostel- a delicious mish-mash of food that included guacamole, pineapple (cut by yours truly), tortilla chips and cheese dip, and sausages. Oh, and Lindsay bought me a ginormous carrot, because I asked for it [thanks sister!]. Tiaan said grace [?] and then we dug in, polishing off the huge spread. We then played some card games, swung on the Tarzan swing, and danced down on the pool grounds. Eventually [it was Halloween weekend after all] we headed out to a costume party at a nearby bar [sans costumes, unfortunately- we were so under dressed]. We listened to the live band and had a good time, knowing that in the morning we'd have to say goodbye for probably the last time- we were all headed separate ways/half the group was leaving Costa Rica soon.
Sunday morning we once again chowed down our free breakfast of pancakes & flies, and then had a leisurely pack up/goodbye time before hitting the bus to Quepos. We hooked a direct bus from Quepos to San Jose [though we were planning on getting off at the roadside near Atenas], and zoned out for the four hours it took to get back "home." <- one of the few weekends we made it back before dark
A fun time, with
xoxo, Cleome
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