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
Showing posts with label hike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hike. Show all posts
Friday, March 29, 2013
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 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
Monday, November 26, 2012
Weekend #4: Montezuma [aka The Non-Existant Post]
I've written about this weekend in immaculate detail TWICE now. And both times the posts magically deleted themselves. Incredibly frustrating. I know the third time's normally the charm, but I just can't.
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
So I'm giving you a Cliff notes version instead. [And maybe someday I'll come back and write the real thing. Or you can just fill in the blanks with your imagination.]
Dates: November 2-4
Place: Montezuma- small beach community on the Pacific side
Story:
Supposed to run a marathon, plans fall through, decide to go to Montezuma since Emma [other Hogarcito volunteer] and friends were.
Continuing theme of transportation issues. Involving three buses and a ferry this time.
Lindsay and Emma sick. I share room with both. Go to sleep Friday not sure if I'll wake up.
Wake up.
Search for snorkeling tour. Boats left at 9:00am, we asked at 9:30am. Screwed. Damn.
Local man says he can take us snorkeling. Falls through.
Meet Ben from Texas.
Local man says he can take us [now six with Ben and Emma's three friends] snorkeling. Boat won't start.
Pout.
Visit waterfall by fording river and climbing through jungle. Scenic.
Jump off rocks into water. Tarzan swing.
[Insert witty bracketed comment here.]
Meet Marcos and increase crew number to seven.
Go to top of waterfall. Swim.
Lindsay is a daredevil.
Lindsay Lindsay Lindsay.
I'mobsessedwithLindsay.
35-foot jump.
Lindsay before jumping: So excited.
Me: I do not condone your actions.
Lindsay after jumping: Ouch.
[And here.]
Spotted- breathtaking view and monkeys.
Dinner. Nomnom.
Ubiquitous night out. Dancing.
Unintentionally played hide and seek. Where did everyone go?
Bed.
Lazy Sunday.
Attempted beach run. Hot & sharp rocks. Ouch.
Transport home. Problems.
Return late.
Token sarcastic ending comment.
Good time.
xoxo, Cleome
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Weekend Trip #2: La Fortuna
La Fortuna
La Fortuna is known as a tourist destination {in high-season anyway} as it is the town closest to the Arenal Volcano and its surrounding national park. The Arenal Volcano was Costa Rica´s most active volcano (and one of the top ten most active ones in the world), but since 2010 its explosions have died down, and it has been pretty quiet since {though it did erupt unexpectedly in 1968 and destroy the small town of Tabacon, so you never know...}. Lindsay, Dean, and I decided to go there because both Lindsay and I had never seen a real, live volcano before, and Arenal is quite well-known.
Dean once again took off Thursday night, saying he may or may not be traveling with us that weekend. He said if he was at the hostel on Friday night, then he´d be there, and if not we were to presume he was off at some other destination. I fully expected him to come to Arenal, but Lindsay had her doubts. We´d find out in no time, regardless.
The Journey
Friday afternoon Lindsay and I went directly from volunteering at the Hogarcito to the major bus terminal of Palmares. We´d done some research {using the handy-but-not-always-reliable busschedule.com} into transportation, and discovered that a bus left from San Ramon (a large town 10 minutes away from where we volunteer in Palmares) at 12:30pm, so we planned to take the 12:15pm bus from Palmares in order to get there on time. It probably all would have worked out, except that the 12:15pm bus from Palmares didn´t end up appearing until 12:25, meaning we missed our connection in San Ramon by about 20 minutes by the time we´d located the bus station.
After talking to a nice lady working in a small store at the bus station {she´s now become our go-to helper whenever we end up in San Ramon}, we learned the next bus to La Fortuna was at 4:00pm- meaning we had an almost three-hour period to entertain ourselves in San Ramon. Fortunately, in the never-ending search for an American-style iced coffee {have I mentioned Lindsay´s obsessed with iced coffee? In Costa Rica they always blend the ice into the coffee, and sometimes add ice cream- it results in a tasty drink, but not exactly what she´s looking for...} we happened upon a University museum with a few art and biological exhibits. We wandered around there for a bit, though once we saw a preserved human fetus in a plastic jar, we were pretty ready to get the hell out of there. We then spent the next few hours tracking down the McDonald´s we were both positive we spotted on the bus ride into town {don´t judge}. You´ve no idea how accomplished we felt when we eventually found it,and in celebration bought french fries (Lindsay) and a twist ice cream cone (me).
Thus sated, we headed back to the bus station in time to catch the bus and finally begin our journey to Arenal. We arrived four hours later in the dark- no stunning view of the looming volcano for us yet. After being accosted by tour guides, we extracted ourselves and made our way to the hostel. We walked inside and were greeted by the sight of Dean {! told you so, Lindsay}, already hard at... work... hanging out with a large, rowdy group of people. Lindsay and I checked in, dropped our stuff on our bunk beds, and headed out to join the party.
Friday Night Meet & Greet
The people we saw Dean with turned out to be a fun bunch of volunteers based in San Ramon {of all places}- four Canadian guys (Bryan, Ryan, Ryan, Tiaan) and one American girl (Kelsey). Also amassed in our new group of friends was a British girl, Jo, and a Dutch guy, Floris. They all introduced themselves, and quickly invited Lindsay and I to sit down. The rest of the night is just one big, enjoyable blur. After talking and joking around for a while {and being invited to chill with them in Manuel Antonio the next weekend}, our group decided to hit the pool for a late night dip {during which chicken-fighting and the origin of our motto "Pop a tit" occurred...}. We then returned nice and soggy to the common area to meet with some more hostel guests. Everyone had stuff planned for early the next morning, though, so by 2:00am we decided to call it a night and go to bed.
On the Road to Cerro Chato (and Other Natural Wonders)
Saturday morning Lindsay, Dean, and I awoke relatively early {it´s actually ridiculously hard to sleep in in Costa Rica, thanks to the early morning sunrise and rooster crows}, and met up with Floris (from the night before) to plan our day´s adventure. We were positive that we wanted to check out the Arenal waterfall, as it was supposed to be gorgeous, and had also heard about this hike up a small, extinct volcano right next to Arenal that provided a great view of the active volcano- and a lake-filled crater existed at the top that you could swim in. The smaller volcano was known as Cerro Chato.
At Floris´s suggestion, we decided to rent bikes and ride to the entrance of the waterfall (only a 30 minute trip, or so we were told)- that idea was doomed from the beginning. We did manage to find four, seemingly functional bikes to rent in town, but our luck went downhill from there. As soon as we passed our hostel, Lindsay´s chain fell off, twice. And the second time Dean attempted to fix it {as the rest of us stood on the side of the road, sweating in the hot sun}, he cut his thumb and had to run into a nearby restaurant for some antiseptic to wash it out. After 20 minutes of fruitless tinkering, we called it quits and decided to go exchange her bike for one that actually worked. But, as our luck would have it, the rental place only had those four bikes. And the one up the hill had two bikes out front, but actually they were reserved. And the hotel over the bridge that rented bikes didn´t have any left either. Lindsay was extremely frustrated after our third unsuccessful visit, so I decided to give the guys my bike to return as well, and said we´d meet them {who were still so intent on biking} at the waterfall- the girls were taking a taxi.
Turns out our decision not to bike was the right one to make. Lindsay and I arrived at the waterfall a bit after 11:00am, a whole 1.5 hours before the boys did. As we climbed down the 493 steps to the falls, admired the beautiful 70 meter cascade of water, swam in the natural pool there, and sunbathed on the rocks nearby, Dean and Floris were {so they say} struggling up an incredibly steep, difficult hill in order to reach the entrance. I´m pretty sure they got lost and went the long, wrong way to the falls, as our cab ride was only 10 minutes and the roads we took were relatively flat. But anyway, the bike trip was apparently so exhausting that the guys could speak of nothing but how tired and sore they were the whole rest of the day. I kid you not- the. whole. day. Lindsay and I eventually just tuned them out....
After letting the guys rest and take in the exquisiteness that was the waterfall, Lindsay and I told them we were heading back up the 493 steps to the top in order to start the hike up Cerro Chato. They moaned and groaned and acted like big babies, but eventually convinced each other that, though they already done the equivalent of 15 workouts thanks to the bike ride, they could probably make it up Cerro Chato. I think they mostly just were afraid of being showed up by two girls {and possibly missing out on something really cool}.
We payed our entrance fee and met another American couple who were also starting the hike at the same time, so the six of us set out up the volcano around 1:00pm. All of us had heard that the hike was steep, grueling, and would take about two hours to make it each way; we initially scoffed at that- WE were young, fit, and determined. How hard could this hike actually be? Answer: very.
Okay, so the beginning of the climb was fine. We all joked about how, if this was considered hard, we'd be back in an hour. We kept up a good pace and admired the great views we were getting, as well as the lush trail we were following. Then, about 20 minutes in, it began to sprinkle. And everything went to hell.
The Hike from Hell
Right after it started sprinkling {which was actually welcomed at first, as we were all damp with sweat at that point anyway}, we hit the part of the hike that switched from a relatively flat, well-defined path, to steeper, grass- and mud-covered hills. By a bit into that portion of the hike, the rain had increased to a pretty heavy downpour, so rain was not only dripping off us in rivulets, but coming down the hill in small streams as well. Conversation dropped off, and we all focused on making it up the hill without slipping and falling on our asses. Eventually we had climbed high enough to where we'd reached the jungle near the summit of the mountain. Unfortunately, it was also the most challenging part of the hike.
Imagine doing a lunge up a stair. Then another. And another. Endlessly. Now, let's be creative and add in some other fun stuff. Torrential rain? Check. Waterfalls cascading down each step? Got that too. Slippery mud, trippable tree roots, extreme elevation? Yes x3. Now take how you'd imagine you'd be feeling after 45 minutes of that, multiply it by 50, and you'll be close to how I felt. It got to the point where I seriously contemplated turning around- Dean and Floris had after 15 minutes of being in the jungle portion- and all that kept me going was the promise of a lake-filled crater at the top {and the ability to brag about making it all the way up later. Assuming I actually survived the journey}.
Finally, relieving-ly, we reached a flat spot at the top of Cerro Chato from which you climbed down through the forest for only about five minutes to reach the crater lake. We came into the clearing at the beach on the lake, and gasped in amazement: the water was bright green. I'd never seen anything like it before. It was so beautiful I wish I could show you what it looked like, but of course my camera had run out of battery 10 minutes into the hike.... The four of us: Lindsay, the couple, and I {the champions who made it ;)}, stripped down to our undies and dove in. We had a group of local kids- the only other people there- take some pictures of us, and then decided we should head back before it got dark. Regretfully we began the climb back, but when we reached the flat spot at the very tip again, it was as though the clouds had been waiting for our arrival to clear. We had the most breathtaking view of the Arenal volcano- it was such a serendipitous moment, and it made the entire, hellish climb worth it {the lake was cool, but I was a bit underwhelmed}. I still have a hard time believing that happened.
The climb back down was exhilarating in its own way. Luckily it had stopped raining by then, but the steps {not to mention our clothes/shoes} were sopping wet and muddy, making our "climb" down more of a jump-from-step-to-step-and-hope-you-don't-end-up-slipping-all-the-way-down sort of game. {We took a clue from the local kids who literally ran down the mountain, every once in a while falling and laughing hysterically- the Costa Rican version of skiing, I suppose.} We made it back to where we´d started about four hours after we began. In one piece, but a lot more worse for the wear.
The couple was nice enough to give us a ride to our hostel in their rental car, and once we arrived we both headed straight to the showers {my first hot shower in over a month, and it was glorious}. Lindsay and I headed out to grab dinner in town with a few other girls from the hostel. We both ordered HUGE casados (the typical Costa Rican dish: rice, beans, fried plantains, meat, steamed veggies, and a green salad. This one was premium and included mashed potatoes with cheese, tortilla chips, a tuna salad, and a beet salad, as well}, and you better believed we devoured them all in record time. The other girls sort of exchanged horrified glances at our maniac eating until we explained that we'd had nothing but raw green beans since breakfast, had gone on this incredibly exhausting hike, and were therefore starving. They understood after that. That night we were supposed to go out dancing around 11:00pm with a group of guys we´d met at the waterfall... but we had both fallen asleep by 8:30pm, and didn't wake up until morning. Oops.
Sunday
After a nice, relaxing brunch with Floris, Jo, and an Australian named Lucy, Dean, Lindsay, and I packed up our stuff, said our goodbyes, and headed out to catch the bus back to Atenas. No major horror stories about transportation this time- though the bus situation didn't go exactly according to plan, the longest we had to wait for a connection was only an hour, and we made it back to Atenas by dinner time. The worst part of the trip home was having to stand on the bus for the 45 minute ride from where we got off on the side of the highway {a sketchy stop, but it saves us an hour of going into and then back out of the city of Alajuela} to Atenas.
All in all, a fun, successful weekend. Though my thighs could feel that hike for days after.
Ouch.
xoxo, Cleome
La Fortuna is known as a tourist destination {in high-season anyway} as it is the town closest to the Arenal Volcano and its surrounding national park. The Arenal Volcano was Costa Rica´s most active volcano (and one of the top ten most active ones in the world), but since 2010 its explosions have died down, and it has been pretty quiet since {though it did erupt unexpectedly in 1968 and destroy the small town of Tabacon, so you never know...}. Lindsay, Dean, and I decided to go there because both Lindsay and I had never seen a real, live volcano before, and Arenal is quite well-known.
Dean once again took off Thursday night, saying he may or may not be traveling with us that weekend. He said if he was at the hostel on Friday night, then he´d be there, and if not we were to presume he was off at some other destination. I fully expected him to come to Arenal, but Lindsay had her doubts. We´d find out in no time, regardless.
The Journey
Friday afternoon Lindsay and I went directly from volunteering at the Hogarcito to the major bus terminal of Palmares. We´d done some research {using the handy-but-not-always-reliable busschedule.com} into transportation, and discovered that a bus left from San Ramon (a large town 10 minutes away from where we volunteer in Palmares) at 12:30pm, so we planned to take the 12:15pm bus from Palmares in order to get there on time. It probably all would have worked out, except that the 12:15pm bus from Palmares didn´t end up appearing until 12:25, meaning we missed our connection in San Ramon by about 20 minutes by the time we´d located the bus station.
After talking to a nice lady working in a small store at the bus station {she´s now become our go-to helper whenever we end up in San Ramon}, we learned the next bus to La Fortuna was at 4:00pm- meaning we had an almost three-hour period to entertain ourselves in San Ramon. Fortunately, in the never-ending search for an American-style iced coffee {have I mentioned Lindsay´s obsessed with iced coffee? In Costa Rica they always blend the ice into the coffee, and sometimes add ice cream- it results in a tasty drink, but not exactly what she´s looking for...} we happened upon a University museum with a few art and biological exhibits. We wandered around there for a bit, though once we saw a preserved human fetus in a plastic jar, we were pretty ready to get the hell out of there. We then spent the next few hours tracking down the McDonald´s we were both positive we spotted on the bus ride into town {don´t judge}. You´ve no idea how accomplished we felt when we eventually found it,and in celebration bought french fries (Lindsay) and a twist ice cream cone (me).
Thus sated, we headed back to the bus station in time to catch the bus and finally begin our journey to Arenal. We arrived four hours later in the dark- no stunning view of the looming volcano for us yet. After being accosted by tour guides, we extracted ourselves and made our way to the hostel. We walked inside and were greeted by the sight of Dean {! told you so, Lindsay}, already hard at... work... hanging out with a large, rowdy group of people. Lindsay and I checked in, dropped our stuff on our bunk beds, and headed out to join the party.
Friday Night Meet & Greet
The people we saw Dean with turned out to be a fun bunch of volunteers based in San Ramon {of all places}- four Canadian guys (Bryan, Ryan, Ryan, Tiaan) and one American girl (Kelsey). Also amassed in our new group of friends was a British girl, Jo, and a Dutch guy, Floris. They all introduced themselves, and quickly invited Lindsay and I to sit down. The rest of the night is just one big, enjoyable blur. After talking and joking around for a while {and being invited to chill with them in Manuel Antonio the next weekend}, our group decided to hit the pool for a late night dip {during which chicken-fighting and the origin of our motto "Pop a tit" occurred...}. We then returned nice and soggy to the common area to meet with some more hostel guests. Everyone had stuff planned for early the next morning, though, so by 2:00am we decided to call it a night and go to bed.
On the Road to Cerro Chato (and Other Natural Wonders)
Saturday morning Lindsay, Dean, and I awoke relatively early {it´s actually ridiculously hard to sleep in in Costa Rica, thanks to the early morning sunrise and rooster crows}, and met up with Floris (from the night before) to plan our day´s adventure. We were positive that we wanted to check out the Arenal waterfall, as it was supposed to be gorgeous, and had also heard about this hike up a small, extinct volcano right next to Arenal that provided a great view of the active volcano- and a lake-filled crater existed at the top that you could swim in. The smaller volcano was known as Cerro Chato.
At Floris´s suggestion, we decided to rent bikes and ride to the entrance of the waterfall (only a 30 minute trip, or so we were told)- that idea was doomed from the beginning. We did manage to find four, seemingly functional bikes to rent in town, but our luck went downhill from there. As soon as we passed our hostel, Lindsay´s chain fell off, twice. And the second time Dean attempted to fix it {as the rest of us stood on the side of the road, sweating in the hot sun}, he cut his thumb and had to run into a nearby restaurant for some antiseptic to wash it out. After 20 minutes of fruitless tinkering, we called it quits and decided to go exchange her bike for one that actually worked. But, as our luck would have it, the rental place only had those four bikes. And the one up the hill had two bikes out front, but actually they were reserved. And the hotel over the bridge that rented bikes didn´t have any left either. Lindsay was extremely frustrated after our third unsuccessful visit, so I decided to give the guys my bike to return as well, and said we´d meet them {who were still so intent on biking} at the waterfall- the girls were taking a taxi.
Turns out our decision not to bike was the right one to make. Lindsay and I arrived at the waterfall a bit after 11:00am, a whole 1.5 hours before the boys did. As we climbed down the 493 steps to the falls, admired the beautiful 70 meter cascade of water, swam in the natural pool there, and sunbathed on the rocks nearby, Dean and Floris were {so they say} struggling up an incredibly steep, difficult hill in order to reach the entrance. I´m pretty sure they got lost and went the long, wrong way to the falls, as our cab ride was only 10 minutes and the roads we took were relatively flat. But anyway, the bike trip was apparently so exhausting that the guys could speak of nothing but how tired and sore they were the whole rest of the day. I kid you not- the. whole. day. Lindsay and I eventually just tuned them out....
After letting the guys rest and take in the exquisiteness that was the waterfall, Lindsay and I told them we were heading back up the 493 steps to the top in order to start the hike up Cerro Chato. They moaned and groaned and acted like big babies, but eventually convinced each other that, though they already done the equivalent of 15 workouts thanks to the bike ride, they could probably make it up Cerro Chato. I think they mostly just were afraid of being showed up by two girls {and possibly missing out on something really cool}.
We payed our entrance fee and met another American couple who were also starting the hike at the same time, so the six of us set out up the volcano around 1:00pm. All of us had heard that the hike was steep, grueling, and would take about two hours to make it each way; we initially scoffed at that- WE were young, fit, and determined. How hard could this hike actually be? Answer: very.
Okay, so the beginning of the climb was fine. We all joked about how, if this was considered hard, we'd be back in an hour. We kept up a good pace and admired the great views we were getting, as well as the lush trail we were following. Then, about 20 minutes in, it began to sprinkle. And everything went to hell.
The Hike from Hell
Right after it started sprinkling {which was actually welcomed at first, as we were all damp with sweat at that point anyway}, we hit the part of the hike that switched from a relatively flat, well-defined path, to steeper, grass- and mud-covered hills. By a bit into that portion of the hike, the rain had increased to a pretty heavy downpour, so rain was not only dripping off us in rivulets, but coming down the hill in small streams as well. Conversation dropped off, and we all focused on making it up the hill without slipping and falling on our asses. Eventually we had climbed high enough to where we'd reached the jungle near the summit of the mountain. Unfortunately, it was also the most challenging part of the hike.
Imagine doing a lunge up a stair. Then another. And another. Endlessly. Now, let's be creative and add in some other fun stuff. Torrential rain? Check. Waterfalls cascading down each step? Got that too. Slippery mud, trippable tree roots, extreme elevation? Yes x3. Now take how you'd imagine you'd be feeling after 45 minutes of that, multiply it by 50, and you'll be close to how I felt. It got to the point where I seriously contemplated turning around- Dean and Floris had after 15 minutes of being in the jungle portion- and all that kept me going was the promise of a lake-filled crater at the top {and the ability to brag about making it all the way up later. Assuming I actually survived the journey}.
Finally, relieving-ly, we reached a flat spot at the top of Cerro Chato from which you climbed down through the forest for only about five minutes to reach the crater lake. We came into the clearing at the beach on the lake, and gasped in amazement: the water was bright green. I'd never seen anything like it before. It was so beautiful I wish I could show you what it looked like, but of course my camera had run out of battery 10 minutes into the hike.... The four of us: Lindsay, the couple, and I {the champions who made it ;)}, stripped down to our undies and dove in. We had a group of local kids- the only other people there- take some pictures of us, and then decided we should head back before it got dark. Regretfully we began the climb back, but when we reached the flat spot at the very tip again, it was as though the clouds had been waiting for our arrival to clear. We had the most breathtaking view of the Arenal volcano- it was such a serendipitous moment, and it made the entire, hellish climb worth it {the lake was cool, but I was a bit underwhelmed}. I still have a hard time believing that happened.
The climb back down was exhilarating in its own way. Luckily it had stopped raining by then, but the steps {not to mention our clothes/shoes} were sopping wet and muddy, making our "climb" down more of a jump-from-step-to-step-and-hope-you-don't-end-up-slipping-all-the-way-down sort of game. {We took a clue from the local kids who literally ran down the mountain, every once in a while falling and laughing hysterically- the Costa Rican version of skiing, I suppose.} We made it back to where we´d started about four hours after we began. In one piece, but a lot more worse for the wear.
The couple was nice enough to give us a ride to our hostel in their rental car, and once we arrived we both headed straight to the showers {my first hot shower in over a month, and it was glorious}. Lindsay and I headed out to grab dinner in town with a few other girls from the hostel. We both ordered HUGE casados (the typical Costa Rican dish: rice, beans, fried plantains, meat, steamed veggies, and a green salad. This one was premium and included mashed potatoes with cheese, tortilla chips, a tuna salad, and a beet salad, as well}, and you better believed we devoured them all in record time. The other girls sort of exchanged horrified glances at our maniac eating until we explained that we'd had nothing but raw green beans since breakfast, had gone on this incredibly exhausting hike, and were therefore starving. They understood after that. That night we were supposed to go out dancing around 11:00pm with a group of guys we´d met at the waterfall... but we had both fallen asleep by 8:30pm, and didn't wake up until morning. Oops.
Sunday
After a nice, relaxing brunch with Floris, Jo, and an Australian named Lucy, Dean, Lindsay, and I packed up our stuff, said our goodbyes, and headed out to catch the bus back to Atenas. No major horror stories about transportation this time- though the bus situation didn't go exactly according to plan, the longest we had to wait for a connection was only an hour, and we made it back to Atenas by dinner time. The worst part of the trip home was having to stand on the bus for the 45 minute ride from where we got off on the side of the highway {a sketchy stop, but it saves us an hour of going into and then back out of the city of Alajuela} to Atenas.
All in all, a fun, successful weekend. Though my thighs could feel that hike for days after.
Ouch.
xoxo, Cleome
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