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Looking back...

2009-01-15T23:50:00.008-05:00

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do.....Explore. Dream. Discover."

-Mark Twain

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(click on any of the red pins to see a photo and a link to a blog entry)

***

What started off as an idea that this might be the perfect time to finally make the often talked about dream trip down to Chile, ended up as a 10 month journey through three continents, 16 countries and over 20,000 miles...

With no itinerary - not even a flight home - and no real plan other than to do some camping in Patagonia, I flew from Hartford to the bottom of South America back in February. Tired and eager to see everyone, I flew home from Mexico just before Christmas. Here's a glimpse of how I passed that time in between...

Other than the flight out to the Galapagos Islands and a couple of boat rides (round trip to Antarctica, sail from Colombia to Panama and a ferry crossing here and there) every mile was covered with rubber touching the pavement or, in many cases, the dirt or gravel. Most borders were crossed independently, most adventures were unguided and most nights were spent in one of three places - my tent, a hostel or in the home of a kind couchsurfing host (costs ranged anywhere from free to around 14 bucks a night). Quetzals, Cordobas, Pesos and the like were most often withdrawn from local ATMs and always were kept in my money belt, my sock, a pillow, under the mattress, in a secret compartment behind my toiletries or, on the rare occasion, in my pocket.

Though I travelled solo, I rarely found myself alone, as meeting locals or fellow travellers was really quite simple - and wonderful. The plans that eventually did get made, were often, if not always, changed. And while I was scared for my life several times and missed friends and family a lot - especially towards the end - I would not have traded a second of the experience.

Other than some of the above, the biggest question I have been asked by friends and family is "What was your favorite place?" With so many amazing places and wonderful experiences to choose from, this is an impossible question to answer. Sure, off the top of my head, a couple places stand out - Antarctica and the Galapagos - for the sheer fact that they offer that certain something that can't be had anywhere else in the world - and my time with the kids in Bolivia for so many reasons. There were also those inspiring interactions like with my friend Pedro in Colombia, the guy who gifted his running shoes in Argentina, or the many people I met on my bike ride through Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador. But really, my favorite part of this trip and the reason I travel is all of those little things that you experience along the way.

For me, the experience of eating a warm crepe oozing with chocolate was more memorable than actually seeing the Eiffel Tower. And seeing small Bedouin children beg for pieces of paper was infinitely more impressive than a visit to the Pyramids.

What follows is a list of some of those "experiences" I was fortunate enough to have on this journey as well as a few of the different thoughts that struck me for some reason or another.

*Seeing a local's face - especially the beaming smile of a proud parent - when you show them a photo you've just taken. My favorite thing about the new digital age.

*Sunsets and, even more special for the fact that you are not sharing them with as many people, sunrises. Most people are awake to see the sun set, but there's something magical about being up for a sunrise - especially when climbing a mountain or camping.

*Falling asleep in a hammock is good. Especially since hammocks generally hang in warm, peaceful, inviting places.

*Funerals - on several occasions I found myself as an unintentional participant. Whether it was bumping into a walking procession in Colombia or passing through a wake in Nicaragua that had spilled out into the streets, these moments gave me an insight into a culture that a museum never could.

*Conversing in a foreign language for the first time in all my travels. And what a thrill to finally be able to make someone smile for what I said rather than for the awkward pronunciation with which I said it.

*Renewed Patriotism.

*Chicken buses and jam packed mini-buses. Adios personal space. It's hard to say, but I think the most crowded it got was in Guatemala when I was facing a woman that was breast feeding. Not at all out of the ordinary down there, except for the fact that in this instance, the back of the kid's head was resting on my chest.

*Never in my life have I appreciated COLD BEER like I have in Central America. After a long hard day of sweating in buses, nothing could be more satisfying.

*The kindness of strangers. I can't begin to tell all of the stories of the times I was shown the way, looked after or given a phone number to call "if you get stuck or needed anything". What a choice we all have when we meet someone, especially a visitor, for the first time. I am so thankful for all those that chose to help rather than to hide.

*Meeting a Ukranian guy in Argentina and an Italian guy in Colombia that carried less with them on their travels than I would take to the gym. Less is definitely better when traveling.

*The miles and miles and miles of jaw dropping views from the dusty windows of countless buses. And trying mightily to not take a single one of them for granted.

*Gaping holes in sidewalks, throwing TP in a basket next to the toilet, death defying cab rides, stomach rot, litter, pollution & poverty. And trying to appreciate the fact that these things are not the norm in my life at home.

*The feeling of accomplishment when achieving a goal. Whether that is reaching the peak of a 20,000 foot mountain, finishing a grueling three day bike ride or even something that would, on the surface, appear to be so simple - catching the right bus.

*Lucky to meet so many different people from so many different backgrounds. And even luckier to have some of my closest friends come join me for some of these experiences. Thank you all!!!

*The sad reality that I'll never get back to most, if not all, of the places about which I said "I'm definitely coming back here someday."

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Michael

“Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Appreciate your friends. Continue to learn. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.”
-M.A. Radmacher

Belize and Mexico...not much longer now

2008-12-18T21:42:00.015-05:00

Though ready, and extremely excited, to go home, the white sandy beaches and crystal blue waters of the Caribbean have made hanging out a little longer almost bearable (wink, wink). The world class scuba diving and ocean views from my $12 a night hotel room on tiny Caye Caulker off the coast of Belize provided a relaxing final stop before Cancun and a wonderful place to look back on where I've been over the past 10 months.

Chichicastenango...A cool market, a crazy festival and my first turkey bus

2008-12-07T21:46:00.002-05:00

Some days I wish I could be invisible. These are also the days when it seems impossible to put the camera down.

After meeting people, my favorite thing to do while traveling is taking pictures. Without the ability to paint, draw or scribble and a voice worse than Harry Caray I've often said that taking photos is the closest thing I can do to actually being artistic. And it is a day like today in a place like the Chichicastenango market where would-be photographers like myself salivate. The colors, layers, textures and sheer differentness (for lack of an actual word that i like better) of the market's wares are gimmes that could make my 2 1/2 year old nephew look like a good photographer. But it's the people that I really would love to shoot. The bright, elaborate clothes. The pensive expressions - perhaps wondering if enough money was made to feed the family. The worn faces and deep lines indicating a lifetime spent working in the sun. Ahhh, to be invisible. For now, I'll have to settle for the less invasive cut-fruit shots.

Another place I would have loved to have taken photos was on the bus into Chichi which was perhaps the most crowded I've ever taken. At some point, the cramped discomfort turns to humor. Just when you think it is physically impossible to fit one more person, the stops keep coming and people keep packing in. On this particular ride, there were NINE people filling the row (and aisle) in front of me - we could have fit all of the American League and half of the National League if we kept going - when a woman got on with a live turkey bobbing its head out the back of a blanket/backpack tied around her neck. Chicken buses are famous here in Central America, but this was my virgin turkey bus experience.

Finally, the wonderful day in Chichi was topped off with a procession/parade followed by a bizarre fireworks display that included people dancing around in a pyrotechnic costume that sent light and fire in every direction - including into the scurrying crowd. All in good fun for the Quema del Diablo (burning of the devil) festival. Time to hurry back to the "hotel" - our curfew there has been extended to 10pm for this special night - after that, the doors are locked.

Guatemala

2008-12-06T21:44:00.000-05:00

Time is winding down here and the anticipation of getting home and seeing everybody (and all the decadent food) at Christmas is growing. I feel a certain laziness at times and often have the "if I stay in one place for the rest of my trip or if I don't see anything else, that's totally fine" feeling. It's amazing, though, how this tends to make everything you do even more special. Perhaps it's because there are no expectations, perhaps it's because I feel like I am playing with house money. Regardless, I feel pretty lucky.

Guatemala is many people's favorite place to travel in Central America and it is easy to see why. Though there is a lot of crime here - mostly in the capital, but increasingly against tourists - there is also incredible scenery, great markets and a huge indigenous population - giving you a much more 'authentic' feeling than in many of the places I've visited.

From the chill colonial city of Antigua to the peaceful and photogenic shores of Lago Atitlan to the remote, awe inspiring pools of Semuc Champey, Guatemala does not disappoint.

One more stop before leaving Guatemala - the famous Maya ruins of Tikal which feature stone temples bursting through the green forest canopy with howling howler monkeys as your soundtrack.

Travesia Trinacional Montecristo - What the hell was I thinking?

2008-11-30T10:56:00.003-05:00

So as fate would have it, serious rain and flooding forced an audible that I wasn´t super excited about. Instead of making my way to the famous Bay Islands off the Caribbean coast of Honduras for some more relaxing, snorkeling and world class scuba diving, I stayed inland and headed west to the small town of Copan Ruinas near the Guatemalan border. After a long travel day of jumping on and off chicken buses, I ended up in this quaint little pueblo on Thanksgiving afternoon. At the local tourist office, I saw a poster advertising something to do with biking that looked like it started the next day and appeared to be taking place in three countries simultaneously. After inquiring, the kind info desk lady handed me a phone and said that Tiko could give me some more info. Deciphering the mix of English and Spanish, I understood that this was a mountain bike tour that was three days long and passed from Honduras to Guatemala to El Salvador. Though my time on a bike in the last year has been essentially non-existent (probably less than 10 hours total-most of which was bombing downhill in Bolivia over three months ago), I decided to humor myself and ask where I could rent a bike. ¨Oh, there are no bike rentals in this town, it´s too hilly for tourists to bike,¨ Tiko replied. He was, however, kind enough to give me the name and address of a hardware store in town that might have a couple bikes for sale and told me he´d see me at the pre-ride dinner that night. Ummm, okay. After various unsuccessful attempts and several wild turkey chases (it is thanksgiving after all) around town, I showed up at the 7pm meeting, steedless, hoping that, having given it my all, I could forget the ride and relax a little in my final weeks here on the road. Unfortunately, Tiko had found a rider with a second bike and welcomed me to the ride. Never mind that the bike was 6-8 inches short for me, really old and had brakes that were barely sufficient for riding around the town´s central square, I guess I was in.

Little did I know what I was getting into or what kind of experience I was about to have. For starters, the ride turned out to be 150 kilometers of getting my ass kicked on some of the craziest hills I´ve ever mountain-biked on. Less than a third of the way into day one, I was worried about not making it to the end of the day, never mind the end of three days. (It didn´t help that the most popular question I received all day and all weekend, after 'where are you from?', was `how many days are you going to ride?´ Apparently many people join this ride for only a day or two and me, with my ¨bike¨and lack of technical wear, must have looked like the 1 or 2 day type.) After having to bail out into a rocky, barbed-wired ditch to avoid going over the edge of a bridge after a steep downhill, I decided I´d have my almost non-existent brakes fixed that night. ¨They´re better¨ the mechanic said, ¨but they´re too old to be really good.¨ Despite significant swelling from my crash that caused a serious limp on night one, things were looking up on day two. This was the `easiest´ day and it was desperately needed - for the legs and for the confidence. Day three brought a crazy amount of climbing and a descent that, despite the organizers countless warnings to be careful, sent two guys (out of 51 riders) to the hospital. Thank God for those `better´ brakes. It´s hard to say how difficult this ride really was, but with my (lack of) fitness level and equipment I was really psyched to make it to the end. More importantly, however, this turned out to be one of the best experiences I´ve had on this entire trip. I can think of no better way to explore not one, but three countries, than by climbing and descending these barely passable 4x4 roads through villages where tourists never go. The river crossings. The unspoilt scenery. The bewildered looks on farmers faces. The excited waves from little children. The three national anthems and priest's benediction given pre-ride (and to think, I used to think two anthems at Whalers/Nordiques games was a bonus). The grand welcomes at the end of each day that made us feel like we were in the Tour de France. The camaraderie between riders and the friendship shown me by Hondurans, Salvadorians and Guatemalans alike. The pain and joy of working towards and making it to a goal. These are things I could not get visiting a tourist site and are memories I will never, ever forget.

Official Race photos...

El Salvador - sticks and stones may break my bones, but bags of urine...

2008-11-24T10:42:00.012-05:00

It's really cool when things you do as an afterthought turn out to be better than things you put a lot of planning into. I decided to check out the famous-for-its-warring country of El Salvador kind of as an afterthought. A friend who volunteered there with his wife told me not to bother unless I was going to surf. Other travelers had told me that they only stopped in the capital, San Salvador, for a night on there way to or from Guatemala. So I guess my expectations for this little country wedged into the Pacific coast between Honduras and Guatemala were not high. Maybe that's a good thing.

I arrived just short of the Salvadorian border after hitching my way from the Nicaraguan border across Honduras in the back of a pick-up with a one-eyed dude, a bundle of bananas and an off-duty security guy armed with a shotgun. Security guys with shotguns are as common here as 15 year olds with cellphones back home, so I wasn't particularly worried. And as Central America, and especially this region, is notorious for its dangerous highways due to the gangs and drug-runners that ply these roads, I just kept telling myself that having a shotgun made us safer. It was especially hard, however, to convince myself of this whenever my co-passenger would fidget with the safety...ON. OFF. ON. OFF. Please don't point that thing at me!

Once in San Salvador, I caught up with my CS host and we made our way to the stadium to catch another World Cup Qualifier. Though tickets were only six bucks for the cheap seats, we had to buy El Salvador jerseys for another five to avoid getting pummeled by insults and, considerably worse, bags of urine. It's also a 'rule' that bringing a woman to this rambunctious section, also know as general or Vietnam is a no-no and the price of saving a few bucks is more urine, water and endless hurling of insults at both the cheapskate and his date or wife or even daughter. We stayed (relatively) dry, but ES lost a nail biter to Costa Rica.

The rest of my time was spent at the beach watching other people surf in El Tunco, hanging out with some really cool folks and real life revolutionaries in one of El Salvador's most famous (and beautiful) revolutionary towns of Suchitoto and relaxing for a couple days at an off-the-beaten-path beach of Playa San Diego and hostel called El Roble. Like Colombia, the people here in ES were super friendly and eager to share the fact that their country offers so much more than gangs, war and violence. This afterthought of a visit turned out to be a wonderful surprise. Sometimes its best not to plan.

Nicaragua - back to where it all started

2008-11-24T10:41:00.011-05:00

After a crazy, sweaty day on 6 different buses and a nutty border crossing, I made it up to Granada, Nicaragua with a smile on my face. The towns I crossed through, the adventure of trying to figure it out, and the people I met along the way made for an invigorating day... That was the scene last January when I took a little detour (from a 2 week Costa Rican vacation)up to Nicaragua and was pretty much the time and place where I said, ¨I need to throw the backpack on and get out there on the road again.¨ A few weeks later I was off to Argentina for the beginning of this journey. Now, almost 10 months later, I made the same northward trip from Costa Rica and went straight to Granada for old times sake. Its amazing how much easier and more comfortable a place is when visiting it for a second time.

After Granada, I went up to another beautiful (more for its charm than for its colorful buildings) colonial town of Leon where I stayed in a hostel with an interesting mix of ´backpackers´. First there was John, a cool, 72 year old retired engineer from California who was in Nicaragua for a month because his retirement check ¨goes a lot further here¨. There was a couple in their 50's from Nevada, a 60 something German guy named Hans, a 34 year old mother who also happened to be fitness competitor (5th in the world last year) and a 40 year old American cycling from the states down to South America. What made him most interesting was that, among the limited number of things he could carry with him on his bike, he brought a clothes iron. ¨I like to be able to look nice when I get to a new town¨ he remarked when he saw the puzzled look on my face. The 19 year old German kid spending time between high school and college must have wondered if he had taken a wrong turn off the backpacker trail somewhere in middle Nicaragua to end up with this crew. A visit to the Tisey nature reserve outside of Esteli in the north of the country provided an opportunity to meet with Don Alberto, a photogenic old guy that took up carving figures into the local mountainside as a way to give up drinking.

Like many places I´ve been through over the past 9 months, Nicaragua was going through some interesting political times and, in fact, was the fourth country I´ve been in that was holding elections while I was there. By now I've gotten use to several things here in South and Central America...corruption is prevalent, people are passionate and informed about politics and the fact that drinking of any alcohol is against the law in the days leading up to the elections.

Costa Rica - more familiar faces

2008-11-14T16:28:00.007-05:00

As if catching up with a couple good friends from DC wasn´t enough, the joy of seeing Zach and Bart was made all the greater by the fact that they were waiting for me in a dry house and had cold beer at the ready. I got off a bus on the side of a dark road near where I thought Bart´s house was and ran a few hundred yards in a torrential downpour to meet them. After a long day of travel up from Panama, seeing the guys was awesome. For the next week, we did lots of getting hammered by waves, relaxing around the pool and watching CNN & Fox News. After being detached from the inundation of campaign coverage for so long, I was actually excited to catch up on as much election news as I could. What a change from past years when I normally can´t wait to get away from it all.

Near the end of the week, we headed out into the Monteverde and Volcano Arenal areas for some hiking, swimming and hours of ´bet you can´t hit that thing with a rock´. We even found a 10k race in San Jose which was a very cool way to spend our last day together before parting ways.

I absolutely love traveling solo, but it´s been really cool to have had visits from such good friends along the way. Now that the visits are over, I can't wait to get home and see everyone else.

Bocas del Toro, Panama - a unique place to run

2008-11-13T19:21:00.006-05:00

¨The best place is out at the airport just after the last flight of the day takes off.¨

The responses are always interesting whenever I ask a local for advice on where to go running. From the most common reply, a puzzled ¨You mean you want to run, just to run?¨ to the odd, yet intriguing one ¨There´s a group of old folks that jogs in that (1/4 mile around) park every morning at 4 AM¨, I never know what to expect. This latest suggestion, in Bocas Del Toro, seemed way too good to pass up. So, at 5:05 PM after Air Panama flight #1726 took off for Panama City, I headed out to the tarmac and joined several locals running down the incredibly flat, incredibly straight stretch of asphalt while a couple different groups played some pick-up fútbol. I´m not sure when I´ll ever get a chance to do that again or if I´d ever care to run on a (long, flat, straight) runway again, but it was a pretty cool ¨couldn´t do that in the states¨ experience.While not running at Bocas Del Toro International, I took the muddiest 5 mile bike ride of my life, snorkeled a bit and hung out at red frog beach. And yes, Halloween, complete with all the trimmings (including costumes) is everywhere.

Sailing to the San Blas Islands (Panama) and that canal thingy

2008-11-12T20:00:00.005-05:00

Paradise Part II. After Parque Tayrona, it was hard to imagine anything coming close in the ¨wow, so this is what paradise looks like¨ category. The San Blas Islands off the Caribbean coast of Panama did so in a big way.

After making it up from the bottom of South America completely by bus (with the exception of the Galapagos detour), a boat was required to continue on into Central America. I guess required is a bit of a stretch, as there is actually land connecting the two Americas, but it´s a commonly known fact down here that if you try crossing by land, you´ll die. That being said, hopping on a boat headed for a place that many veteran sailors call their favorite place on earth, is not all that bad. After some searching, we decided on the larger 40 meter long Stahlratte which would provide plenty of opportunity to jump, dive and swing from high places as well as time to get away from the other 20 people (13 pax, 7 crew) if desired. After some crappy weather leading up to our arrival in the San Blas, the local bureau of tourism seemed to know we were there because they delivered welcoming, clear skies for a an amazing bienvenido to paradise. Seconds after the anchor was dropped, people started flying off the boat like recently caught fish trying to make their way back to aquatic safety. For me, it was time to finally make the sketchy climb up the crows nest (that I had been eyeing since we left Colombia) to get some photos from above before going for a swim.

Great food which included lots of tropical fruit and fresh fish and lobster helped keep us energized for the sunny days filled with lots of swinging, snorkeling and exploring, while cold cerveza and a little music was all we needed to enjoy the slightly cooler evenings.

Eventually we had to say goodbye to our new friends and the comfortable sway of the boat to make our way to Panama City, but not before staying a night with the friendly Kuna tribe in their island village. Showers here consisted of buckets of water and the toilets consisted of a seat over a hole which dropped directly into the ocean (for the record, we didn´t swim here). Finally, it was back to non-paradise as we stopped in Panama City to check out the pretty cool canal and to get Liza on a flight back to reality.

Ahh, the Caribbean...Parque Tayrona & Cartagena (Colombia)

2008-11-11T19:45:00.003-05:00

For months I´ve been waiting for this. As much as I was eagerly awaiting my arrival into Colombia, I longed for its Caribbean coast even more. The combination of wonderful people, warm weather and refreshing water that had been beckoning, was finally here. In addition to all of this, a good friend from DC was coming down to visit and join me for the sail over to Panama. So exciting to see a familiar face!

I spent a couple days awaiting Liza´s arrival by relaxing, hiking and exploring the dense, cactus-filled mountainsides around the coastal town of Taganga. That last part was not planned nor appreciated - my hands and legs are filled with cactus needles collected while trying to escape the prickly incarceration. Once together, Liza and I went scuba diving and drank pitchers of smoothies and daiquiris made from papaya, mango, passion fruit, strawberry, Banana, blackberry and whatever else we could find. Sufficiently plied with tropical beverages, we then headed to a place that can only be described as paradise. I had heard so many good things about Parque Tayrona that it was almost certain to disappoint. Incredibly, the serenity and beauty of this boulder-filled, palm tree-lined beach/park surpassed anything I could have imagined. From our accommodations (hammocks under a thatched gazebo perched directly over the crashing waves below) we watched the most spectacular electrical storm I´ve ever seen. Wow!

Unfortunately we eventually had to continue on (via an absolutely loco boat ride) towards Cartagena to try and set up a sailboat ride to Panama. This colonial city, filled with colorful buildings, colorful people and colorful sunsets provided a perfect backdrop for my sad goodbye to this amazing country. A couple photos of the city skyline from our boat and Colombia was quickly only a memory...

Villa de Leyva, Colombia - Old School Couchsurfing

2008-11-10T16:48:00.001-05:00

Little did I know that helping negotiate a mazorca transaction would lead to such a wonderful experience. While making a quick stop in a small town just North of Bogota, I hopped off the bus to buy one of my new favorite foods - a grilled (like almost charred), salted, butter slathered corn on the cob on steroids called mazorca. The chewy kernelled tastiness was too much for me to pass up and apparently for the local looking local hanging out the back window of the bus, as well. ¨Amigo¨, yelled Señor Pedro as he waved a note out the window indicating he wanted a little mazorca action as well. A ¨gracias¨ and ¨de nada¨ while making the money for corn exchange was the extent of our conversation until I stepped off the bus in Villa de Leyva and asked the driver to point me towards the main square. Señor Pedro, waiting to grab his bag from the roof of the bus, indicated the direction and said he was also heading that way if I wanted to join him. This former communist and revolutionary turned born again Christian and artist spoke decent English but humored me in my attempts to practice Spanish. As we approached the crowded main square, he informed me that this was a holiday weekend and therefore throngs of Bogateños were in town escaping the city grind. ¨Come with me to drop off my bag (at the restaurant his wife was working at) and I´ll help you find a place to stay¨ he assured me. Cool. After meeting his wife, we inquired unsuccessfully at five or six places that were all full and eventually returned back to the restaurant. After some discussion (or possibly argument) that I could not understand, Señor Pedro grabbed his bag and we headed off for his house where he insisted I would stay the night. Wow. Overwhelmed by the generosity, I had to at least draw the line when he suggested I take their bed and they would sleep on a mattress in the living room (I´m just a nice guy like that). While giving me the tour of the pueblo that night and the next morning, I would have sworn that Señor Pedro was the mayor of Villa de Leyva as he seemed to know, and be liked, by everyone we encountered.

The beautiful little town and the surrounding area combined with this, not in the guidebooks, encounter with Señor Pedro made this one of the coolest experiences of my whole trip and helped reaffirm all of the wonderful things I have heard about Colombia and its people.

Salento, Colombia - Zona Cafetera

2008-11-09T16:46:00.001-05:00

Somewhere down the line after drugs, guerrillas and kidnapping, coffee probably comes to mind when you think of Colombia. And in this case, it´s for good reason. They have lots of coffee here and they drink even more. Men strolling the streets with thermoses of tinto to sell are more common here than beer guys at Lambeau Field. For about a tenth of what you´d pay at Starbucks, you can get yourself a small cup of this tasty black coffee anytime, anywhere. Unfortunately, for those frothy, skim, mocha, latte, frappuccino fans, you´ll probably have to actually find a Starbucks as your choices on the street are black, black or black.

A visit to the coffee region, called the zona cafetera, is a requirement for foreign tourists and locals alike. For whatever reason, I always find it odd when I end up in a really touristy spot that´s actually filled with local tourists and not gringos. Wow, you mean Colombians go on vacation, too?? Salento is definitely one of those places that people from all over the country flock to for beautiful vistas, tranquilo settings and its famous (farm raised) trout. That farm raised thing confused me a bit, but I am assuming, at one point the famous trout here actually came from a river and not swimming pool. In addition to chilling, drinking jitters inducing levels of jo and taking a coffee tour from the couldn´t look more like a coffee grower, coffee grower, Don Elias and his apprentice grandson, I took a day hike through the absolutely stunning Valle de Corcora. Once again, Colombia delivered with warm, friendly people and jaw-dropping scenery. It´s easy to see why people don´t want to leave.

(Parents, want to instill a little discipline in the kids? Try the playground pictured below.)

Almost forgot...I finally had my first go at Tejo, the national sport of Colombia. This game, resembling horseshoes, but much cooler because there is exploding gunpowder involved, could easily be more dangerous than my all-time favorite, jarts. What tejo lacks in potential for impaling a teammate or competitor, it definitely makes up for in likeliness that a novice will throw the extremely heavy disc well off course and onto a neighboring lane. That and the fact, that you can´t play tejo without drinking beer. (can somebody say, Mallard Point?)

Dangerous Colombia! Drugs, guerillas and kidnapping.

2008-11-08T15:00:00.007-05:00

It´s hard to imagine a country with a worse reputation for violence than Colombia. Okay, so maybe it only makes the top 10, but you get the picture. When people at home hear you are planning to visit, their immediate response is generally something like ¨Isn´t it dangerous there?¨ or ¨Be careful...don´t get kidnapped!¨. When fellow, in-the-know travellers who have experienced Colombia´s present day magic hear you are going, the common responses are ¨Man, I can´t wait to go back there¨ or ¨Be careful...you may not want to leave.¨ Indeed Colombia has even stolen that sentiment for it´s new tourism campaign...¨Colombia, the only danger is you may not want to leave.¨ Having heard all of these positive stories in the months leading up to my arrival in Bogotá, I could not wait to get there.

After another long, multiple bus journey from Quito I arrived in Bogotá and met up with Clara, my CS host for the next few days. I also met her two children - Juana (age 7) and David (age 5). What an incredible way to travel and to learn about (real) local people and places. Two days turned into a week here in Colombia´s capital and could have easily turned into a month had I not a few more countries to see before Christmas. I spent a lot of time hanging out with Clara, her friends and even spent a night at her parent´s house. On a couple occasions, we took the family car out with her sister and explored some cool little pueblos outside of the city. They were even kind enough to show me the corner in Bogotá where the drug-dealing, prostitute mariachi bands hang out. No joke. Finally, on my last night in town we grabbed the Colombian flag and went to another World Cup Qualifier - versus Paraguay.

It is immediately apparent that Colombia is a beautiful country. The stunning landscapes, the
soaring mountains, and the colorful colonial buildings are all incredible. What is even more apparent, however, is the kindness of its people and their desire to make you enjoy your time here. I have never been anywhere in the world where locals were so interested in what you think of their country. There is such an eagerness to show the world how amazing their country is that you can feel it. After only a week, I´m convinced. And it won´t be long before you start seeing newspaper and magazine articles popping up everywhere about this beautiful place and its beautiful people. And about the dangers of not wanting to leave.

Quito and Canoa

2008-11-07T13:35:00.003-05:00

¨Look at that building!¨ ¨Notice the doors on that church!¨ ¨Oh, how beautiful!¨ You´d swear that Mrs. Risnero was the one visiting the old city of Quito for the first time, but in fact she was just a proud local excited to share her amazingly restored city with a tourist. Felipe, my CS host for the next couple nights had given me directions to meet him at a coffee shop. Upon arrival at one of, what turned out to be, his three coffee shops in Quito, he and his mom asked me if I wanted to take a night tour of the beautiful old city. As we drove around checking out the sites with his enthusiastic mom giving the tour in Spanish from the back seat, I could not help but think of the time when Mom and I met a German au pair in DC and gave her a tour of our favorite spots. This was my introduction to Quito and another wonderful CS experience. I ended up spending 10 days here seeing the sites, doing the requisite equatorial tour of the Mitad del Mundo, meeting many of Felipe´s family members, teaching (?) Ecuadorian girls how to Gringo Salsa and checking out another futbol match - this time a World Cup Qualifier with Bolivia. One of the neatest things to do in Quito is climbing to the roof and towers of the old cathedral and scurrying around the outside ledges. Definitely cooler and scarier than most amusement park rides and fits neatly into the ¨wow, they wouldn´t allow this in the states¨ category. Though Quito has a reputation of being a little dangerous, I absolutely loved my time here.

After Quito, I ventured off to the tranquilo little beach town of Canoa to relax for a couple days before heading to the Galapagos. Due to some miscommunication (okay, so the bus company lied to me), I had to stay in a little town in the middle of nowhere for a night because there were no more buses to Canoa. Though disappointing at first, it actually turned out to be a great experience being completely away from the tourist route for a little bit and I met a really nice family at their tiny little street side restaurant. Once in Canoa, the chillness of the place did not disappoint. What a great place to relax and do nothing but surf, swim, walk on the beach and...eat burritos while watching a cockfight in the shadows of a 10 piece mariachi band. It turns out that it was Mexico´s Independence day and one of the owners of the hostel I was staying in was Mexican. This is a tiny little town, more like a village, where word travels fast. No one from miles around dared miss out on the opportunity to have a beer while listening to the sweet sound of mariachi.

As an interesting (or maybe not) side note, the Ecuadorian government controversially changed currencies to the US dollar a few years back and it was a little weird to all of a sudden be using dollars, quarters and pennies again.

An American (admittedly left leaning) perspective abroad

2008-11-06T15:02:00.007-05:00

Over the past 8+ months of travel here in South and Central America I have found myself defending my country and my government more than I ever have in the past. The latter would fall into the "I can say bad things about my government, but the hell if I am going to stand around and listen to some Norwegian or Belgian bash us" category.

On election day here in Jaco, Costa Rica, a couple friends and I settled in early to watch the pundits on CNN & Fox News gush their last minute ¨insight¨ and eventually deliver news of the early returns. It was great to hear about the high number of voter turnouts and reminded me of the patriotic feeling I had in 2004 while waiting for my turn to cast my vote.

As it looked more and more likely that Obama was going to win and win big, I felt a sense of relief, not only that he would prevail, but also that there would be no controversy, lawsuits or long delays in determining a winner. As we watched John McCain's concession speech I was impressed with his graciousness and more aware of the impact of what had just happened. As we saw the incredible joy that Americans were displaying in cities all over the country - because of an election - and the sight of the tens of thousands gathered in Chicago in front of the impressive stage of American flags, I felt myself smiling out loud. In no way did I expect to be, or for that matter, care to be greatly moved by the events of the day, but it suddenly began to hit me like I never could have predicted. The patriotism began to build and finally overwhelmed me during Obama`s acceptance speech. I was proud to be an American. For the first time on this trip, I was really, really proud to be an American. (photo from Sept 2007)

Lobos y Tortugas y Boobies, o mi! - The Galapagos Islands

2008-10-03T12:19:00.025-04:00

(Sea) Lions, tortoises and blue-footed boobies were just a few of the spectacular sights I witnessed here in one of the most unique archipelagos in the world. Located about 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands are famous for their many, seemingly fearless, animal species. Incredible scenery, warm weather, beaches, and the ability to get up close to one of the craziest animals I have ever seen - the giant tortoise- made for an unforgettable time. In fact, I had such a difficult time leaving this special place I moved my flight back twice. In the end, I ended up spending a little under two weeks here swimming/playing with sea lions (amazing), hiking, scuba diving with a school of 20 hammerhead sharks, and snorkeling with sea turtles.

Baños - Hiking, biking, waterfalls, volcanoes and other stuff

2008-09-03T01:11:00.016-04:00

Baños, meaning baths, is famous for its hot tubs, but has so much more. I arrived here with Christian, a friend from Paris I met down in Riobamba, and we quickly made our way to the famous baths underneath a beautiful170 foot waterfall. The next day was time to check out the city from above and hike to a volcanic lookout point where we met an old man whose job it was to watch the volcano for activity. A little weird, we thought, as some type of seismic sensing equipment would seem to do a better job, but perhaps this is another example of creating jobs for people that I`ve seen a lot here in South America. In any event, the guy, Señor Carlos, was a super cool old man and told us how he hung out under the tree (and tree house) watching the last eruption. Though rocks destroyed his roof and solar panels, he assured us he was protected by a helmet and a gas mask. Ha! More hiking, getting lost, swimming in waterfalls and bike riding made this one of the more enjoyable stops I`ve made on this trip.

Into Ecuador - Vilcabamba, Cuenca & Riobamba

2008-09-02T17:36:00.019-04:00

Since I had been to Peru before and was eager to get to Ecuador, I went from La Paz all the way through Peru and into southern Ecuador in just a couple days. It was an exhausting myriad of taxis, shuttles, little buses and big buses, but it was cheap. Once I finally got to Vilcabamba, it was all worth it. This small town nestled in the mountains is the definition of tranquility. My room had a huge window with a view of the mountains and a church in the foreground and breakfast was served outside on a balcony with another beautiful view. The hiking was amazing if not a little scary on some of the high ridges.

After Vilcabamba I went up to the beautiful colonial city of Cuenca where I was given a tour by a local girl I met through the couchsurfing (CS) website I mentioned a while back. It´s my goal to use this site as much as possible over the remainder of my trip as its a great way to meet locals and to practice my Spanish.

After a short visit I made my way north to Riobamba for a CS-Ecuador meeting. About twenty of us from all over Ecuador and the world were hosted by a young Ecuadorian guy very enthusiastic to share his culture and beautiful country with fellow travellers. Over the weekend we tried many local delicacies including pig for breakfast (see photo) and had a couple great days of hiking in the area. The weirdest point of the weekend came when we made it to a mountain refugio on a local volcano and saw a plaque in memory of a group of climbers that had been killed in an avalanche fifteen years ago. Unbeknownst to most of us until that point, one of the men killed was the father of one of the guys we were with. Wow.

La paz, Copacabana & Isla del Sol

2008-09-01T18:16:00.004-04:00

After a month of fairly intensive Spanish classes, it was time for a break. With Lisa, a fellow student from Switzerland, I headed North to the other capital of Bolivia, La Paz. The view of this city from above is breathtaking (literally, at 12,000 feet above sea level) and unlike any I have ever seen. Looking into the city from the El Alto area high above the city center is like looking down at the 50 yard line from the nosebleed seats. Picture an 800,000 seat Rose Bowl. Unfortunately, with the smog-filled air, it was tough to get a good picture.

After some time exploring the (cold) city, we headed off towards the sleepy town of Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca where we would catch a boat to the Isla del Sol. People from all over Bolivia and Peru come to Copacabana to have their cars, buses, bikes and whatever else blessed by the local priest. We randomly ran into some (gringo) folks we knew who were here to join in and get their VW van anointed. When in Rome, I guess.

The sunsets and the tranquility of this place were a welcome respite from the craziness of La Paz, but paled in comparison the the paradisaical feel of the Isla. After a day hiking from the North to the South, we arrived in time to have one of the best tasting beers I`ve ever had. The sunset and sunrise here were enough to make me never want to leave. Ahhhhhhhhhh.

Virgen de Urkupiña - Quillacollo, Bolivia

2008-08-26T16:49:00.007-04:00

An amazing Carnaval-esque pilgrimage full of colorful costumes, music and dancing that brings folks from all over.

The Death Road

2008-08-17T21:35:00.014-04:00

"El mas barrato, por favor." The cheapest one, please. After I said it, I realized my response to which level of bike I wanted for our trip down "The World's Most Dangerous Road" probably wasn't the smartest thing I've ever said. Oh well, what's the worst that could happen on the road also known as "The Death Road"?

This road, so named for the 100 or so folks that fall to their deaths here annually, has become famous among visitors to Bolivia and one of the "must-dos" on a visit to La Paz. Nobody died in our group (three backpackers have ended their trips here this year), but it was easy to see how this road has become so (in)famous. It was absolutely nuts (and a complete blast) in many places.

(Many of these photos need a closer look to get the full effect - ie.- the shot of the van driving above the area where two other trucks/buses have slid down the mountain)

La Colonia - A truly amazing place

2008-08-12T11:53:00.011-04:00

Thirty kids. All the time. Another 100 during the day. This is the life that Kiko & Carmen have chosen. Thirteen years ago, this incredible couple began what is now way more than a full time job. The children are either abandoned or had such a dire circumstances at home that they have come to La Colonia for a better life. Food, a bed, focus on schoolwork, love. All of this and more is what these kids receive here. This is not an institution, it is a home. And for Kiko and Carmen, it is not a job, it is their family.

I`ve been lucky enough to spend the last month here helping out in any way I can. Mostly I`ve been playing with the kids or helping with their homework, but have also helped build a climbing wall, marched with them in an independence day parade and helped make dinner for 40 people. Without question, working at La Colonia has been a highlight of my trip to South America and something I will never forget.

(Post Script - Leaving the Colonia on Friday was also the hardest thing I`ve done on this trip. Its a tradition when any volunteer leaves for everyone to gather around and some of the kids offer to say a few words of thanks and give us cards they have made. One of the older girls started to talk but had to stop because she started crying. It would have been hard enough for me to say goodbye to my new friends in English, but trying it in a new language with a lump in my throat was nearly impossible.)

19,974 feet...Mt. Huayna Potosi kicked my....

2008-07-19T18:15:00.019-04:00

One of the popular hikes to do here in Bolivia is the 6000+ meter Huayna Potosi. It´s extremely popular because of its accessibility - it is rare to find a peak this high, higher than any peak in Europe in fact, that can be scaled within a couple of days. Though the climb requires crampons, ice axes and ropes, it is not super technical. Despite it´s relative accessibility, however, the peak is at almost 20,000 feet which can make things very difficult....

It seemed that most people chose the 3 day tour which basically allows a little more time for acclimatization. When dealing with high altitudes your biggest friend is time - and taking lots of it to acclimatize. The more time you take working your way up a mountain, the better chance you have of escaping altitude sickness. Alternatively, you can convince yourself that you have been there before (Kilimanjaro), live at altitude (Cochabamba is at 2500 m) and have been at a decent altitude (La Paz = 3800 m) for a few days, in order to save the time and money of that 3rd day. Foolishly, as it would turn out, I chose this two day tour and paid heavily.

The first day was great - the weather was beautiful, I felt strong and the scenery was nothing short of spectacular. After some confusion of where we would sleep (all the refugios were full and we didn`t have a reservation for some reason), we were fed and given about 24 inches of padded floor to ¨sleep¨ on. As it turns out, this would be a place to rest my eyes for a few hours instead of actually sleeping. The combination of cramped quarters, a little anxiety and the extreme difficulty of sleeping at 5000+ m prevented even a minutes sleep before the 1am ¨wake-up¨ call. I was happy to be able to get up and finally get out there and climb. Because we were not officially supposed to be in the refugio, we had had the pleasure of having our bread and tea outside in the cold. Brrr. Due to the ease of the previous day`s hike, I was excited for a difficult but rewarding day up to the summit. Ha! After the chilly breakfast, we (my guide and I) put our crampons on, roped ourselves together and started up the mountain after the other 40 or so climbers. While we quickly passed most of them, I think this pace, at this altitude, eventually proved a costly mistake. About midway up one ridge (which was probably the scariest 30 minutes of my life), I started to feel nauseous and extremely lethargic. I was finally able to sit down for a brief `pausa´after making it up the ridge (steeper than any double black I`ve ever skied) where we were at the most 2-3 feet from a 200+ foot drop. Though the guide spoke almost no English, I think he could sense my apprehension when he said ¨trust the crampons¨. From that point on, it was a march of 5 meters followed by a small rest for the final few hundred meters to the top. It was possibly the worst I`ve ever felt in my life. Upon reaching the summit (which I had thought impossible for the past couple hours), I did not even have the energy to smile never mind high-fiving and getting up to take pictures. The descent was a bit easier, though the lethargy and throbbing headache did not disappear until well after I reached the bottom. The entire hike I kept thinking ´this can´t be, I´m normally stronger than this´. Ahh, the beauty of altitude. The good news is that I decided, during this hike, that I truly have no desire to ever try Everest. Like the "never going to run another marathon" proclamation sworn so many times around mile 20, however, I reserve the right to change my mind on this one .

Intiwatana - Festival of the solstice - La sangre de la llama

2008-06-24T17:44:00.016-04:00

(warning: this gets a little gruesome at the end, so if you are a bit squeamish, you may want to stop reading when I give the warning)

Instead of heading on a school organized excursion to a local peak of just under 16,000 feet, I, along with two other classmates, decided to opt for the ´cultural experience´ of the Intiwatana. This is a festival used to celebrate the Andino new year. As opposed to our calendar where we just celebrated the beginning of the year 2008 AD, the Andino new year is now 5016. And unlike our Western celebrations of crystal balls dropping into overcrowded municipal squares, many folks here (mostly indigenous) celebrate by drinking all night, welcoming (with outstretched hands) the new sun and then sacrificing llamas. How could we NOT go to check this out?

We knew we were about to witness something pretty unique, but we also thought we were headed to a cultural center with lots of people and many other tourists since the director of our school gave us a detailed agenda of events that were to take place at this cultural center throughout the evening. Ha! Our taxi pulled up to a group of people standing outside a slightly crumbling, mud-ish building and the driver asked where the ´centro cultura´was. ¨Aqui!¨, the slightly bemused folks answered. (It was not until later that we realized why the people had such a curious look on their faces) ¨Great¨, we thought ¨that was easy¨. As the taxi pulled away, we were welcomed and each given a turn to pour some chicha over the altar table. After pouring a small amount of this beer-like alcohol (which is actually prepared by fermenting ground maize with the saliva of the preparer) onto the fire-heated stone, we dutifully drank the remainder of the gourd. Tasting a lot like a fraternity house basement smells, this was not exactly an ¨ahh, coca-cola¨ moment, but sure made us feel like we were part of the show. As we proceeded inside, we discovered why these kind folks were so curious as to how we heard about this meeting. It turns out the agenda we were given was two years old and instead of a large public gathering, this night was to be a very intimate discussion of beliefs and preparation for the next days celebration. Despite this, we were welcomed quite warmly; especially since two of us spoke third grade Spanish and understood even less. After more passing of the chicha gourd (yummm), a couple times ´cleansing´ourselves with the smoke of incense and listening to these folks share stories of why this was such an important day, we hopped in a taxi just before midnight and headed...somewhere.

Excited by the really cool experience we just had, but a bit disappointed by not staying up all night and watching a llama sacrifice, we decided to head into the city for a few beers before finding another locale to continue our `culturing´. At about 4am, we called a taxi (as this is theoretically much safer than hopping in any taxi on the street here in Cochabamba) and headed toward the ruins near Sipe Sipe. Naturally, the driver tried to charge us 80 Bolivianos for this 45 minute cab ride, but knowing better, we paid the standard fare of 40Bs ($5.50). From there, we paid another 5Bs for a 45 minute ride up to the top of this mountain where many revelers had spent the night drinking, dancing and sitting around one of the 50+ fires that people had built. The moment I had been waiting for was almost near...my first llama sacrifice. Before that would happen, however, we would await the first sun of the new year to warm us. During this process, there was a lot of chanting which seemed to follow the ¨Prayers of the Faithful¨ (Lord hear our prayer) pattern where one person would yell out something (I think I heard ¨things like ¨peace¨, ¨unity of Bolivia¨, etc.) and the rest of the gathered would yell some sort of affirmation. All pretty cool.

Then came the event I had been waiting for. (AND ONE THAT YOU MAY NOT CARE TO READ ABOUT) This would prove to be an event that, although excited to have been able to witness, I don´t ever care to see again. After the sun was sufficiently welcomed, three live llamas had their necks slit with little more than a steak knife. I watched as one llama struggled in pain while its neck was cut with the back and forth motion you would use to cut a loaf of Italian bread. A bucket was held under it´s neck to collect the streaming blood which would later be scattered on the earth and onto the people watching - all for good luck in the year ahead. Being so close, I knew there was a chance that I, too, could be showered with ´good luck´, but the first feeling of moisture on my face caught me completely off guard. I am still not sure where that first spurt of blood came from, but I suspect it was straight from the neck of the llama rather than from the ensuing gourdfuls that were thrown into the crowd. As the crimson showers continued, I quickly decided I had seen (and felt) enough and headed for safe ground further from the ritual. After watching a little more dancing and traditional music, I caught up with my friends and we headed back to our barrio for some much needed sleep. Preceded by a shower of course.

Cochabamba, Bolivia... .

2008-06-20T14:41:00.012-04:00

(only some photos for now)

Sucre

2008-06-08T15:35:00.008-04:00

Sucre, one of the two disputed capitals of Bolivia, was said to be a beautiful city and a great place to chill. And chill I did. I was a bit in shock when I went to pay my hostel ¨tab¨and was told I had been there 12 days. Oh well, it was good to relax and do nothing for a while before heading up to Cochabamba to tax my stale brain with fours hours of Spanish a day for the next month. My ¨doing nothing¨consisted of lots of walking around, sitting in the park talking with the shoeshine boys and eating lots of street-za (the name I gave the yummy pizza cooked and sold by mobile vendors). The hostel I stayed at was one of the most comfortable places I've stayed on this trip and was a hell of a deal for 40 Bolivianos ($5+) per night for my own room. There was a good group of ´long timers´ there studying Spanish and the family that ran the place was great - especially the newly turned 6 year old chess prodigy, Antonio. I got my first look at the Bolivian birthday tradition that includes cake and singing at breakfast and the ´lucky´
one with the birthday having their face shoved in to the cake (glad I´ll be gone by December). Another highlight was the grand 'entrada' that lasted for hours and hours. It was great to finally see my friend Samarah come dancing through the square well after midnight. Though really cool (amazing costumes and a fantastic disregard for public safety), I'll be fine if I don't watch another parade for a long time.

Potosi...a glimpse into the difficult life of a Bolivian miner

2008-05-28T14:50:00.014-04:00

Potosi is a city famous not only because of its altitude of over 13,000 feet, but (more importantly) for its mining history. Because of these silver mines, Potosi was the largest and wealthiest city in Latin America

hundreds of years ago under Spanish rule. It is incredible to think of this fact while driving through today's impoverished city. Today, despite the fact that the mines are greatly depleted, thousands still work in medieval conditions that most of us would have trouble imagining. The mines have become a popular attraction for backpackers looking to find out a little bit about this way of life. We were given a tour by Willie, a former miner who was lucky enough to get out of the business after seeing his father and grandfather both die there. (It is said that due to the noxious chemicals these guys breathe in, ones life expectancy can be as short as 10 years after making that first fateful step into the mines) Willie gave us great insight into the beliefs of the miners and how difficult a life they lead. Though most of the miners share Christian beliefs outside of the mines, they all worship and give thanks to 'Tio' (the devil) while inside the mines for allowing them to work and earn a living in his lair. We also got to meet some of the miners and give them gifts of coca leaves, cigarettes, alcohol and dynamite that we had purchased in the miners market. We also bought some dynamite for ourselves to blow up outside the mine.
Another requisite stop in this town is the Casa de la Moneda museum which was a former mint of Spanish coins back during the town's heydey. Ironically, these days Bolivian coins are made in Spain.

Salar d´Uyuni - Salt Flats (Bolivia)

2008-05-25T12:51:00.013-04:00

Wow again. Many people had said that visiting the Salt Flats around Uyuni was a must do when traveling in South America, but I had no idea what I was actually in store for. With a Canadian couple, a Swiss girl and a guy from London, we headed out from Tupiza in a beat up old Toyota Land Cruiser.

Much like my earlier visit to Antarctica, I was constantly in a state of amazement over the four days here in Southern Bolivia. The landscape, which was mostly over 12,000 feet in altitude, was ever changing and one site after another provided scenes more amazing then the last. Each day seemed to build on itself like a thrilling mystery or a piano concerto. From hair raising mountain roads, to intriguing ruins, to red and green and blue lakes, to steaming, bubbling geysers it was hard to believe that the climax or crescendo could actually live up to the previous few days. Alas, the final day´s sunrise on the eerily white salt flats did not disappoint. While driving across the salt flats (think hard rock made of pure white salt), you could not help feel like you were crossing a frozen lake up in Minnesota. It would not have surprised me in the least to see a snowmobile come flying past our jeep leaving a wake of snow. After the sunrise, we visited a cactus island and took the cliche salt flat photos that are a requisite for a visit here. Other highlights were staying in a salt hotel, wandering through ruins at sunrise and seeing rock formations that seemed to be straight out of a Dali painting. All in all, this four day journey will definitely go down as one of the coolest things I have ever done.

Salta & Cafayate (Argentina) across the border to Tupiza (Bolivia)

2008-05-20T12:51:00.018-04:00

After a hectic journey from Iguazu, I was ready for a little relaxation and Salta provided the perfect place to take it easy for a while. Here I was able to catch up with Jody (a friend I had met in Pucon), see a couple great museums and get some laundry done. One day Jody and I ended up eating empanaditos at a local hole in the wall (or more accurately, hole in the sidewalk)

where we ended up talking (in poor Español) with the family that owned the restaurant for over 30 minutes. The children (ages 8 and 5) were curious to learn English and to know things like if we had a car at home. These are the travel experiences I will never forget.

One day, I took a tour down to Cafayate which is a really small town known almost as much for the amazing road that leads there as for its true claim to fame - vino. It was another incredible day with more photo opportunities than you could really stand. After arriving back from the tour at 10:30pm, we hurried to the bus terminal for a bus to the Argentinian border town of La Quiaca.

To say that it was an uncomfortable ride would be an understatement. At one point I opened my eyes to see the front and side windows of the upper level of this bus covered in ice. On the inside. This was a sure sign that we had left the warmer, lower altitude and were headed into Bolivia which, for the most part, is all at altitude. After putting on 4 more layers at the Argentinian border, we walked a kilometer to the Bolivian border town of Villazon where we officially entered Bolivia and quickly caught a bus to the town of Tupiza. Tupiza was a brilliant introduction to Bolivia. Things here, as in the rest of this country, are cheap. Five dollars for a place to stay (including breakfast), two or three bucks for dinner, etc. I took a horseback tour through the beautiful red mountains surrounding town and got to really run with a horse for the first time in my life. A bit scary at first, I soon could not get enough.

Iguazu Falls (Argentina and Brazil)

2008-05-15T12:29:00.022-04:00

Brendan and I took an 18 hour overnight bus ride up to what everyone describes as a ¨must see¨ if you are in the Buenos Aires vicinity - Iguazu Falls. Bus rides can actually be quite comfortable down here depending on the class of service you choose. For about $8 more, we upgraded to Cama service which includes a bigger, more horizontal seat, dinner (with wine), a scotch on the rocks nightcap and breakfast.

We were actually quite rested upon arrival and after checking in I went over to the Brazilian side of the falls while Brendan, thwarted at the border for not having the $100 visa (none needed with my Irish passport), checked out town. After a full day exploring the amazing Argentinian side of these falls the next day, Brendan and I sadly parted ways. He's returning to BA for a couple days before heading back to Colorado and I've decided to forgo Paraguay and am headed west to northern Argentina. It was really great to be able to travel with such a great friend for a couple weeks.

(travel note - After leaving Iguazu, I was headed for Resistencia, Argentina but due to a farmer's strike (they happen all the time here) blocking the road, I had to stop short in Corrientes and book another night bus to Salta. Somehow in the confusion, I lost my shoes and now am traveling with only flip flops.)

Uruguay...Colonia, Montevideo & Punta del Este

2008-05-10T22:12:00.013-04:00

A three hour ferry ride (50 minutes if you pay for the fast boat) from Buenos Aires brought us to the super-picturesque colonial city of Colonia, Uruguay. Things were very quiet here as it´s the start of winter, but during the summer, Porteños (folks from Buenos Aires) flock here for weekends and holidays. From Colonia we took a bus to the capital city of Montevideo. Though not nearly as picturesque as Colonia, we still had a good time wandering around the city, exploring the port and eating more meat (they love their bbqs down here). One of the strangest sites were the garbagemen that travelled the busy city streets in archaic, horse drawn carts. For a change of pace (getting lost, meeting the gas station guys & seeing more than the main roads), Brendan and I rented a car in Montevideo and headed to the huge beach town of Punta del Este. It was really quiet due to the time of year, but easy to imagine these beaches/marinas packed with sun & sea worshippers during the height of summer.

Superclásico - Spanish for simply amazing?

2008-05-04T22:26:00.009-04:00

Wow, wow & wow. Today was an amazing day. First off, my good friend Brendan arrived from Colorado to join in for some fun. I am really psyched to see, and travel with, him. After meeting up at the airport and checking in to the hostel we headed out towards the Boca neighborhood of Buenos Aires for a futból (soccer) match known simply as the Superclásico. This match between fierce rivals Boca Juniors and River Plate, is regarded round the soccer world as the most exciting and intense of all rivalries. The English newspaper ´The Observer´put the Superclásico at the top of their list of 50 sporting things you must do before you die (think Superbowl, game 7 of the World Series, etc and intensify the feelings of the fans). Around Buenos Aires, certainly, this match is the only thing locals can talk about in the days and weeks leading up to the game. After getting off the bus at the stop we were warned against getting off at because of the likelyhood of running into hooligans (Brendan said it would be more fun), we made our way towards the stadium. Things were relatively quiet as it was still several hours before game time. This is another recommendation given all tourists so that they avoid the absolute craziness that ensues closer to the start of the match. After waiting in several different lines and being frisked by officers 3 or 4 times in the streets leading up to the stadium, we finally made our way through the line (and frisked once more) that actually got us into the stadium. Once inside we made way to our section and picked out some good seats - as it is open seating, the good seats are the ones located underneath the overhang. Though this might be a good idea in the States to stay out of the sun, it is much more important at La Bombonera (the Famous Boca Juniors stadium) where being under the overhang protects you from the routine urine showers that rain down from the fans in the ¨Away¨ section up above ours. Describing the energy of the crowd is impossible. Everyone stood for the entire game. Enthusiastic songs, chants & cheers DID NOT stop the entire time except for part of halftime when people tried to catch their breath. There was more paper, streamers and confetti in the air than in Times Square on New Years Eve. People were allowed to climb fences, set off smoke bombs and generally act in a way that we would probably consider riotous. All of this, and no beer. Crazy, but when you think about it, it's a really good idea. And fortunately, the home team Juniors won 1-0 adding to the excitement around the stadium post match. After the final whistle, fans are dismissed from the stadium one section at a time to prevent riots. For thirty minutes following the game fans in our section sang taunting songs to the urinating, seat throwing (yes this was happening) River Plate fans up above. It's easy to see why we were kept in our seats for an hour before being let out. All in all, this was the craziest, most exciting sporting event I've ever been to in my life. (these photos, courtesy of Brendan, who was brave enough to bring his camera, are worth a closer, more detailed look)

Buenos Aires...Futból, Tango, Carne y mas

2008-05-02T23:09:00.012-04:00

Where to begin with this city?? The province of Buenos Aires is home to a third of the population of Argentina. The city is huge. And incredible. It seems that you can ride the subté (BA´s underground) for 20 minutes in any direction and when you get out you feel like you are smack dab in the middle of the city. It is a city, like New York et al., where you could easily spend a month and not see everything. I arrived in the city on an overnight bus from Mendoza and immediately threw the running shoes on to explore a bit. I was fortunate enough to run into a woman who invited me to run with her and a friend of hers. So with only two hours under my belt in BA, I had run 10 miles, explored a good part of the neighborhood of Palermo and met a couple of very nice locals. The rest of the 10+ days in BA held much of the same... exploring parks, going to a couple of soccer matches, meeting locals, eating lots and staying up late - I probably ate dinner after 1:00 am 3 times and my average time to call it a night was somewhere in the 5am neighborhood. I was also lucky enough to have my good friend Brendan in town to explore.

One night I met up with Brad & Kim (friends of the family from CT) for an amazing feast of meat, meat and more meat. Not only was the food amazing, but I also had the opportunity to discuss all things Whalers with a fellow fanatic in Brad. Other highlights included an interesting visit to a massive BINGO parlor (trying to play the first game in Spanish at a hellish pace was like trying to learn Calculus in Japanese), the Clasico which is described later, a tango show (who knew), a visit to a cemetery (who knew again), an amazing bookshop inside of an old theatre, helping a couple locals change a flat and walking for miles and miles throughout this truly amazing city. It was extremely difficult to leave Buenos Aires, but there´s something in the back of my head that says I´ll be back here sometime soon...

Mendoza - Argentinian wine country

2008-05-01T23:09:00.007-04:00

Mendoza sits almost directly between Santiago and Buenos Aires and provided a nice break between these two large cities. I basically spent the time here chilling out with some friends, enjoying the weekend nightlife in an Argentinian city and exploring some of the many vineyards by bicycle. Surreal was also redefined as we watched a Guns 'N Roses cover band tear it up at a club one night on the outskirts of town.

(It is pretty amazing, though I am used to it by now, that wherever I go, I run into people I've met somewhere else on this continent. On one day in Mendoza, I ran into friends I had made in three other cities including an Israeli couple I had spent a day hiking with in Ushuaia two months and two thousand miles before.)

Santiago and Valparaiso Chile

2008-04-25T23:08:00.011-04:00

After so much beauty, wilderness and tranquility down South, Santiago was a bit of a shock. On the bus approaching the city, I had to switch to a city frame of mind. Ironically, while my awareness of my surroundings was now heightened (for safety purposes), the visibility of my surroundings (the snow capped mountains that shroud the city) was virtually non-existent due to the huge amount of smog here.

Needless to say, it was very different being in a big city for the first time in a couple of months. Other than a couple walks around town, I didn't do much here other than catch up on this blog, pictures, etc.

Valparaiso offered somewhat of a reprieve from the big city feel thanks to Pablo Neruda´s house, some really cool, colorfully painted buildings and the beach setting in nearby Viña del Mar. Upon my 10pm arrival in Valpo, I wandered the streets around the bus station for a bit before dropping into a shop to make a call to a hostel I had read about in my book. My small amount of Spanish seemed to convince the (non-English speaking) ladies here that I should not be wandering the streets in the area because it was ¨muy peligroso¨ (very dangerous). My Español is at least good enough to know when to take a warning, so I took their suggestion and followed the nice lady to a door on the same block. After some yelling back and forth up the stairs the lady wished me luck and said if I didn't like it, I could come use the phone. Or I am assuming this is what she was saying anyway. The Hospedaje was amazing. Okay, so it was a bit weird, but it did have hot water (see photo) and one of the smilingest grandmothers I've ever met. Though she didn't speak any English, we still enjoyed watching Seinfeld together. Being the first American and one of only a few backpackers to ever stay here, I had to stay a couple nights.

Pucon, Chile - Ascent of Volcan Villarica

2008-04-19T14:40:00.013-04:00

One of my favorite things about traveling solo and without a real plan is the ability to make it up as I go. I had planned to stay here in this little town of Pucon for only a couple days before heading North to my first real city, Santiago. It's now been 6 days and I'm finally leaving. I wandered into a great hostel with some very nice people and haven't been able to leave. I took one day to climb Volcan Villarica which, although not super difficult, requires a guide, ice axe and crampons. After a beautiful day with some spectacular views (including an ever-smoking volcano), I've been hiking, relaxing and enjoying the scenery that surrounds a famous half-ironman triathlon course. It´s supposed to a very difficult course so I could not resist going for a long run yesterday to see what it was all about. Difficult, but beautiful - I would definitely love to come back and do the race some year.

Un otro carrera...Offroad Duathlon in San Martin de los Andes, Argentina

2008-04-13T17:08:00.001-04:00

Once in San Martin, I was a bit disappointed to find out that the Ascent of Volcan Lanin could only be done with a guide and the price would be somewhere in the $300 range. Deciding that this was not in the budget, I planned to head straight up towards Pucon, Chile to try another climb. Until I saw the sign posted in a bike shop window advertising an off-road duathlon, that is. After such a great experience running the road race in Bariloche and meeting many locals, I decided that I HAD to do this race. Never mind that I have only been on a bike once in the past 6 months, have never done an off-road duathlon, and am completely ill-equipped (no bike, bad running shoes, lack of race clothing, etc) to compete in such a race. As I realized I would not be winning this particular race, I went into it fairly relaxed (read - I got back from the bars at 5am as you do in Argentina on the weekends. After all, dinner is not until 11pm). Fortunately, organizers are aware of such behavior and this race started at 11am unlike the races that start at 7 or 8am in the states. Anyway, with an old, borrowed bike (complete with the ever-aerodynamic kickstand), I struggled through the first part, felt surprisingly strong on the run and finished third in my age group. Okay, so there were only 3 people in my age group, but c'mon. After the race, I was invited to lunch by a group of local racers/volunteers. Again, it was so great to meet and hang out with not only locals, but locals with a similar passion for sports, racing, etc. One of the girls even offered to take me to Pucon the next day as she was heading that way (the 5 hour ride was much more pleasant than sitting on another bus).
Apart from the race experience, I absolutely loved San Martin and the many people I met. It is a resort town (ski area nearby) that felt very much like a Breckenridge or a Telluride. Over 5 days here, I spent time with 2 Argentinian girls, a German guy and a couple of Americans.

Villa La Angostura....saying farewell to a friend

2008-04-07T14:35:00.001-04:00

Instead of heading too far, I decided to stop over in a small town that a Canadian couple said looked "pretty neat". Here in Villa La Angostura, there are tourist options abound, but in a much more "tranquilo" way than other towns like El Calafate. I ended up in a hostel with 6 Argentinians, traveling separately, and a couple gringos (a Dutch girl and an American guy). Everyone there spoke Spanish except for me which was great. It was a great opportunity to listen, learn and practice. This is not generally the case in most hostels as English is the default language spoken 95% of the time. I went hiking with a couple of the girls from Buenos Aires which was helpful with my Spanish practice, and also very entertaining to hear some of the English phrases they would quote from movies they had seen. Also entertaining, were the three stray dogs that followed us from town, up to a waterfall and lookout, all the back to town, to the grocery store (where they waited for twenty minutes) and back to our hostel. This is not an odd occurrence in the Southern part of Argentina as there are stray dogs everywhere.
Finally, one of the guys from Buenos Aires had an electric razor which gave me the opportunity to bid farewell to the ginger beard (as the folks from England call it). I could not resist taking a photo midway through the process. Notice the Lanus jersey I'm wearing in the photo that was given to me by Nati the Portena (term used for a girl from BA). I guess I am now a huge Lanus (Argentinian Soccer team) fan.

Back to Bariloche

2008-04-06T22:06:00.005-04:00

After departing Hippieville, I made my way back to Bariloche for a couple more days before heading further North into the Argentinian Lake District. Despite the rainy/cold weather that confirmed winter was moving North, I was able to get in a nice bike ride around some of the many lakes in the area. This heavily touristed route known as the Circuito Chico (small loop)offered great views (rated top 10 in the world by National Geographic), the opportunity to exercise new muscles (first time on a bike in months) and another opportunity to get lost in a foreign country. Time to head north a bit and try to find the remnants of summer...

El Bolson - Hippies, Hippies everywhere

2008-04-04T18:55:00.008-04:00

I decided to make a quick stop in El Bolson (ARG) which is known most for its abundance of laid-back, artsy folk and groovy market. Though both of these were appreciated (the hippies for picking me up while hitchhiking and the market for the amazing locally grown and made food), a hike up to Cerro Hielo Azul (blue ice) and the higher Barta Negra (black something or other) made this stopover an unbelievable experience. A soon-to-be med student from Iowa and I somehow managed to get lost several times over the couple days of this trek, but the 360* views from Barta Negra's peak were incredible. To get there, we crossed the sketchiest bridge I've ever been on and met a great family (girl in wheelbarrow) that ran the mountain-top refugio where we camped. Eating lunch atop a 6000 foot peak with giant condors riding past on up-drafts is something I will never forget. I only wish I had better pictures of these majestic birds (which can have a 9 foot wingspan in length), but I was too in awe to grab my camera. El Bolson also marked the beginning of my ¨Couch Surfing Experience¨. CS is a website used worldwide that connects travellers and couches (or floors, beds, rooms, etc). It is a way for travellers to find a free place to stay, but more importantly to connect people of different nationalities. For my first experience, we (Iowa guy and myself) camped in Fede´s (40 year old Argentinian guy named Federico) yard after hanging out with him, his daughter and his mother for a night. More CS stories to come I hope.

Carrera de Miguel

2008-04-01T18:33:00.007-04:00

Though hardly in shape for anything more than hiking up a mountain with a 27 kilo bag on my back, i was excited to see a sign on a storefront window here in Bariloche (ARG) for the ¨Carrera de Miguel¨. ¨The race of Michael¨, how could I resist? After a little further research, I found out that there was a 5k for las chicas and a 10k for los chicos. I guess Title IX hasn't made it down here yet. Despite the fact that I haven't run a mile since the RnR Arizona Marathon two months ago and all I had to wear were my destroyed hiking/trail running shoes, I figured 'what the hell'? So after shoveling down the hostel breakfast of three sugar covered pastries (basically donuts) and a couple cups of coffee, I ran down to the race start. If nothing else I figured I would be sure to bag a ¨drinking wine ´til 2am, donuts for breakfast 30 minutes to race time, South American 10K¨ PR. To my relief, my understanding of Spanish proved unworthy and I misunderstood the format. As it turns out all were welcome to enter either the 5 or 10k. ''Oh,bueno'' I said to the guy at registration, ¨cinqo mille metres es mehor para mi!¨ With my horrible vocabulary/accent, I probably told him that I don't like eggs, but at least I felt like I would be giving my feet a little break by pounding the pavement in crappy shoes for only 3 miles.

After signing up (oddly enough, there was no entry fee) we were given a 15 minute talk and headed to the race start where I met an Israeli guy and a couple from Hawaii - the only other gringos in the race. The 3.1 miles went fairly quickly despite the cramps and general grogginess and and we mingled for a bit watching the rest of the pack cross the line. While we waited we talked (in our broken Spanish) to the kid who won the 10k. This guy absolutely smoked the field despite the fact that his ¨running¨ shoes looked to be about 7 years old and one of them was literally about to fall off his foot. Seeing this, the guy from Hawaii discretely went over and traded him his fancy white and orange Mizuno Waves for the tattered pair of Nikes. With the look of disbelief, the young Argentinian runner said ¨how much¨? ¨Free, just have fun running.¨ Nice. Later at the awards ceremony, after descending the podium, this kid came over to the Hawaiian and placed his champions medal around the American's neck and gave him a big hug. One of the coolest moments I have ever witnessed at a race.

The wonder of this day continued as we learned who the ¨Miguel¨ of the race's title was. Without getting into too much history, on March 24, 1976 a lot of bad stuff started going down here in Argentina and many young people who had been rebelling against the crooked dictatorship were kidnapped, tortured and presumed killed. Miguel Sanchez, an Argentinian runner, was one of these people kidnapped here and never found. This race, is held to pay homage to Miguel and others that were lost as well as to keep alive memories of what all Argentinians went through. Accordingly, there were a couple of mothers/grandmothers of kidnapped citizens that gave a visibly moving welcome and thanks to the crowd of runners gathered at the awards ceremony. All of this in addition to the fact that one of the prizes in the post-race raffle was a used Donna Summer CD (you can't make that up), made for a truly unforgettable day. Kind of a neat change compared to all of the high tech gear, sponsorship and commercialization that we are used to at most races in the states.

A safe place to sleep?

2008-03-30T18:13:00.005-04:00

After a glorious time camping around El Chalten, it was time to make the first of what I am sure will be many long haul bus rides here in South America. For the trip from El Chalten to Bariloche, I decided to go along the historic Ruta 40 which is Argentina's version of our Route 66. Normally a 30 hour ride over roads mostly of gravel, my bus would stop for a night in Perito Moreno dividing the ride almost in half.

At the end of an actually enjoyable day 1, we ended up in Perito Moreno around 10pm and had to find a place to stay for the night. Though most had pre-booked a room, there were five of us trying to decide whether to camp somewhere or find a cheap hostel. Alas, a search was not needed as a little Argentinian man (Raul)with a flashlight was offering to take us to his place where we could stay in a cabina for 10 pesos a night. With 5 of us there (for safety) and a price of just over three dollars, it seemed like a no-brainer. So, off went the five of us - a young Ukranian guy traveling through South America with only a small handbag, a 66 year old environmental journalism professor from Maine, a tree counter (that's actually his job) from California with dreadlocks longer than Raul, an American med student and myself.

Who would have thunk it? This ¨cabina¨was actually a round, orange and white bomb shelter that Raul had acquired from the local airport. Probably the coolest and, dare I say, safest place I've ever stayed for $3 a night!

El Chalten, Argentina - Mount Fitzroy

2008-03-29T21:58:00.003-04:00

While visiting Southern Patagonia, a must see after Torres del Paine are the majestic snowcapped peaks of the Fitz Roy range. These views are accessed through the tiny, yet rapidly expanding, town of El Chalten. There are no paved roads here and the town basically shuts down once winter comes and the tourists have all fled for warmer climes. All of the park's trails begin right in town so there is no hassling with buses or taxis - just get out and walk. I met four Spanish girls on the bus ride to El Chalten and spent a couple days with them before camping and hiking with various other folks from around the globe. Despite some mice that inhabited one of the campsites, I absolutely loved this park's vibe and hated to leave. It is scary to think what this tiny little hamlet of a town will look like in ten years - glad I saw it when I did.

El Calafate - Perito Moreno Glacier

2008-03-28T22:01:00.000-04:00

El Calafate is another touristy town in Patagonia Argentina filled with fancy chocolate shops, clothing boutiques and a casino that actually charges admission just so you can get inside and lose your money gambling. Needless to stay, this has not been my favorite stop here in South America. There is one really amazing site here, however, and that is the 60 meter high Perito Moreno glacier which is spectacular enough to look at, but made even more incredible as it is constantly shedding huge chunks of itself thunderously into the freezing waters below. It is a live show that hundreds of tourists a day fork over their pesos to witness. I did encounter this budding photographer as well which was pretty neat.

Into Patagonia... Torres del Paine

2008-03-27T18:10:00.020-04:00

After such an unbelievable start to this trip in Tierra del Fuego and Antarctica, it was hard to imagine that it can get any better. And I hadn't even gotten to one of the biggest reasons I chose to come to South America...Parque National Torres del Paine.

Torres is a park in the Patagonia region of Chile that is world renowned for its incredible trekking - hiking and camping.

After making final preparations in the Puerto Natales, I hopped on a bus with a backpack that contained 27 kilos (about 60 pounds) of food and camp gear (stove, tent, sleeping bag, etc) that could sustain me for 10 days out in the park. The first couple days were tough as my body adjusted from sitting on a boat eating all day to lugging my pack over mountain passes, but I eventually got into a groove and felt stronger as the days went on. And as the pack lightened with every meal I ate. Those meals generally consisted of oatmeal with dried fruit and coffee for breakfast, cheese, salami and bread for lunch and some sort of pasta for dinner. Cookies and granola bars filled in holes throughout the days and spices (salt, sugar, garlic, oregano, chili. etc) were the key to keeping things tasty.

At the first camp, I met three other solo travelers (out of 8 total people) and we informally formed a group that I ended up hanging out with for the rest of the trek. Tatiana (Australia), Benny (Paris) and Bill (Canada) all with their own unique stories proved great company over what turned out to be 7 more days in the park. We also spent a lot of time at each camp with a Belgium couple and a Swiss couple. Near the end of the trip, I even met two Anglophonic Quebeccers...who knew?
It was great to be around so many folks with a passion for the outdoors! Patagonian weather, famed for its potential ferocity and complete lack of dependability, actually treated us quite well. Aside from a few moments of crazy (40-50 mph) winds, some cold nights and a little sunrise snowstorm, mother nature allowed for a calm 8 day hike through the park. The highlights were too many to mention and the pictures, again, will surely fail to capture the beauty that was experienced, but needless to say, Torres del Paine did not disappoint.

Antarctica

2008-03-19T18:49:00.033-04:00

Majestic icebergs, silly penguins, and awe-inspiring whales highlighted the past 10 days aboard the Polaris - a 64 passenger, double hulled cruise ship built for ice-strewn arctic waters and recently brought down here to the Antarctic. The ship, we're assured by one of the expedition staff aboard, has the highest rating available for those traveling in iceberg filled waters. He also noted, with a small grin, that the Explorer also had this high rating. The Explorer, as everyone aboard was well aware of, was the ship that sank in Antarctica back in November. Many were acutely aware of this as they were originally booked on the Explorer. As that ship is now 1100 metres deep in icy waters, Gap, the company that owned the Explorer, had to find a new boat quickly to accommodate the passengers that had already booked. Though I normally prefer traveling independently, that is not exactly possible here at the bottom of the world. Fortunately, I was able to do the next best thing by traveling with Gap. They are an 'adventure' travel company that focuses on sustainability and their staff made great efforts to share those philosophies with us - especially important or relevant in this precious place. They, along with the Russian crew were a lot of fun.

Basically our trip consisted of traveling for 2-3 days across the Drake Passage to get down to Antarctica, spending 4 days making landings on the continent and then a couple days back. Our landings were made by rubber boats called Zodiacs and would have us getting out into a foot or two of water on the edge of the ice or land. On these landings, we were treated to one spectacular scene after another...elephant seals weighing up to 5000 pounds, penguins chasing each other around the ice, watching from a cliff as whale after whale breached the surface of the icy waters below and many more.

One day we stopped at a Brazilian research station called Feraz which gave us the opportunity to talk to people that actually live on Antarctica year round - crazy, as it was really cold there now which is the middle of the summer. In addition to absolutely incredible scenery, it was great to spend 10 days with the same group of people(from 15 different countries), many of which I am certain I will see again somewhere in their home countries or in the states. Probably my favorite part of travel is meeting people from all over the world and while normally new people come and go every day or so it was kind of neat to really get to know folks.

Many hours were spent on the ship`s bridge hanging out with the Russian crew looking out for whales, icebergs and whatever else one looks for from a ship's bridge.

A trip to a place called Whalers Bay was a highlight for me, though I was a little disappointed that this was actually a place where they did a lot of whaling and not the summer home of America's favorite hockey team. We also determined that Scotch does indeed taste better when served over a single (large) Antarctic ice cube that is hundreds or thousands of years old. Mmmmm. Oh yeah, about half of us also went for a (brief) swim at one of our Antarctic landings.

Unfortunately photos can not do this place justice, but here's a glimpse (i took well over a thousand photos)....

Tierra del Fuego - WOW!

2008-02-26T20:13:00.012-05:00

Two things have immediately struck me here at the bottom of the world. One, they eat dinner really late here. Like 10 or 11pm, late. The second, which seems to fit nicely with the first one, is that it stays light here during the summer (now, in the Southern Hemisphere) very late. Also 10 or 11pm. This is good because after eating at 11pm when I arrived my first night in Ushuaia and hanging out talking with people at my hostel, I went to bed late and slept in (way in) the next morning, er, afternoon. Anyway, despite waking up well into the afternoon hours, there was still time to gather up some supplies and head out on a 6 hour hike into Tierra del Fuego National Park where I'd spend my second night here in Ushuaia. I met a guy at the hostel from Oregon who was heading out trekking for a couple days and decided to join him. Why wait? All I kept thinking during that first day's hike is WOW! The hike took us through some of the most stunning scenery I have ever seen. All of this on my first real day of my trip. How could it get any better?

In between hiking every day, and camping several nights, over the next 5 days I booked a last minute deal on a trip to Antarctica that I had been looking at just before leaving CT. Even better news was that an old friend from CO decided to come down and join me for this 10 day cruise to the frozen continent. I cant wait!!!!

Ushuaia, Argentina...finally the ¨Fin del Mundo¨

2008-02-22T19:12:00.006-05:00

Well, I've finally made it to Argentina after a couple of long days of travel. Ushuaia is at the very bottom of South America and the people here refer to their city as the Fin del Mundo (Spanish for end of the world) because it is the Southernmost city in the world. It sure feels like I've been traveling long enough to be at the end of the world...

Wow. When you use frequent flier miles to book a ticket to South America one week before going, you can't be too picky about how you get there. My trip took me from Hartford to Detroit to Houston to Buenos Aires. Oh well, at least I could shower and get some sleep in Buenos Aires before heading out the next morning for the final leg of my trip to Ushuaia. Well, that was the plan anyway. As I watched the baggage carousel creep past with less and less luggage on it I had that feeling I've had many times before...what if my bag doesn´t arrive? Well, for the first time in all the flights I've taken, this feeling was justified and I would spend the night in B.A. without my backpack. Unfortunately, it was 90 degrees outside and I was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. As I was already fairly ripe after 20 hours of travel, I decided not to venture out into the humidity and risk total meltdown. Rather, I'd hang out in the ¨relative¨ cool of the airport until I left (sans luggage) at 5:30 the next morning for Ushuaia. It'd be the third airport I've slept in over the past month and it beats having to wake up at a hostel at 4am. Right? Right? Well, it made sense at the time. After a lot of people-watching and nodding off on various benches throughout Terminal B, I checked in for my flight at 4:30 and went to the gate. There was some confusion near the gate as an Aerolineas Argentina employee explained (i couldn't understand his Spanish - or any Spanish for that matter -, but could tell people were not happy) that the pilots had gone on strike at midnight and therefore we would not be leaving at 5:30. That was it. No other info on when or if we'd be departing. Long story short, there were 144 angry people on my flight after repeated delays had us finally taking off 13 hours late. Make that 143. Despite this added delay making my trip time well over 50 hours, I was thrilled. The airline gave us free breakfast, free lunch and by the time we took off, my backpack had arrived from Houston. Okay, things are looking up. Can't wait for my adventure to begin. (photos: my things while packing, my things while stuck in airport for over a day, unhappy Argentinians, view from the plane before landing in Ushuaia, finally, ahhh...)

My first attempt at blogging (Costa Rica / Nicaragua)

2008-02-16T11:00:00.013-05:00

Apparently a blog is like a journal or a diary but it's put on the internet for the whole world to see. I'm guessing the whole world won't care too much what I've been up to, but perhaps you are curious.

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I went down to Costa Rica to meet up with friends. A good friend from college was going to be down there with his wife, father and sister for a 60th birthday fishing trip and another friend from Washington was going down to look at a new house he had just built. That these two separate groups were both going to be in Costa Rica at the same time, seemed too convenient. So, I found a cheap flight from New Haven to San Jose (via Philadelphia, Washington and Charlotte - I said it was cheap!) and left the cold of New England for the warm waters and beaches of Central America. After meeting up with friends Todd and Curt in San Jose, we made our way westward to Jaco and Quepos to find the beach, the waves and the monkeys at Manuel Antonio National Park. I then met up with Ben, Elaine, Emily and Butch for a couple days of catching up, landing my first sailfish (AMAZING!) and eating some great food. I had such a good time with them, it was sad to say goodbye, but I was excited to catch back up with the crew, which now included my friend Bart, and to go check out his new house - our home for the next week. As it turned out, the house was not completely finished, so the developers put us up in the model home which came complete with a pool, a waterfall, a 24 hour guard, and a maid that did our laundry everyday - basically, we were roughing it. We spent hours each day relaxing, drinking coffee and playing in the waves. We also tried a new activity - Zip-lining, which is basically where you go high up a mountain and then work your way down by "zipping" along a wire that is suspended between two platforms as much as 6oo feet apart. Not quite the rush of bungee jumping or skydiving, but fun, nonetheless. When the guys were headed home, I decided to make my way up to Nicaragua for the remaining five days of my trip. A crazy 13 hour day of travel that included a missed "grande bus", a "poco bus" ride, two more big bus rides, a taxi ride with the happiest, most smilingest cabbie (Chino) that I've ever met and finally a ride on one of the infamous "chicken buses" into Granada had me completely exhausted yet totally exhilarated. It was great to be back on the road again - challenged by a foreign language, third world conditions and a completely new environment. Sleeping in a 12 bed dorm room in a hostel was certainly not as glamorous as hanging in a house with our own maid, but it provided such an amazing environment to meet new and different people from all over the world. I spent a day hiking with a great girl from Portland and then a couple more days on the volcanic island of Ometepe which included a wonderful (and MUDDY!) hike with two young dutch girls, a 50 year old Quebecois and a really nice guy from Switzerland. I had such a great time putting the backpack on again that I pretty much made up my mind that I was going to turn around, almost as soon as I got back to Connecticut, and make a trip that I've dreamed about for a long time....

Link to Costa Rica / Nicaragua photo album