quick and dirty guide: the central 7 and mexico

(B this entry is for you)

I'm thinking someone should pay me to be a travel adviser, or something to that end, but maybe I will get paid back in street phad thai and good karma for all this writing I am doing.

B asked about belize/honduras versus costa rica/nicaragua which I would say are two very worthy choices to choose between and led me to think about what all the countries are like in central. I'm planning on getting to writing mini-guides on those countries that I have not yet covered but I figure I'll start with a what we might call a country briefing. I'm starting North and moving South, try to keep up. Oh and these are my opinions, nothing more.

MÉXICO

Mexico has just about everything. Rich in culture, diverse in landscape, I can't really cover it all here. But my general feeling of méxico is, 'GUAU!' It is big, it has states, and the food in INCREDIBLE.

You could spend months or years exploring it: surfing, diving, mayan ruins, climbing volcanoes, visiting pueblitos, getting yourself lost in churches, meeting the indigenous people, swimming in lakes, exploring canyons. Chiapas is fantastic, the Yucatan (and associated states) is divine, and D.F. will blow your mind.

GUATEMALA

My soul lives in Guate. Highlands, black beans, incredible textiles, gorgeous colonial cities, TIKAL, and the warmest latinos on the block, what more can you ask for? Did I mention the coffee and chocolate?

BELIZE

For a cultural shmorgasborg, postcard beaches, and lush jungle Belize takes the cake. It is small, accessible, easy to get around, and full of friendly faces. Belize combines lots of outdoor activities with a carribean attitude, plus just about everyone speaks English. It isn't as cheap as other countries, but you can do it on a budget. Most people go for the diving, end up exploring a cave or two, and maybe some nice ruins. Don't miss the Marie Sharps.

HONDURAS

Considering the current political strife, Honduras might not be your first choice. Honduras is in a word: strange. The catrachos are different from the other Latins and the Bay Islands are a world unto themselves. Copán has lovely ruins (but is more Guatemala than Honduras), las Islas Bahia have some great diving (and it is CHEAP), I've heard other places are great, but I haven't seen much. Most people stick to the islands and head on to the next place. If you want to get off the beaten track and see something new it could be a glorious adventure, but I am not making any promises. Combined with Belize it could be a cool diving vacation (there are direct flights between Belize city and San Pedro Sula).

EL SAV

Can't comment too much. Heard the coast is a great place for surfing. Pupusas seem motivation enough to check it out, but then again most people don't travel just so they can try the local food.

NICARAGUA

Could the Nicas be any nicer? Seriously. My best best best friends all live in Nicaragua. Traffic is usually caused by cows. Nicaragua is considered the next big thing though the economic crisis may have slowed that for a bit. If you want to experience almost everything Central has to offer (islands, volcanoes, diving, surfing, jungles, colonial cities) you could stay in Nicaragua and see almost everything. Boasting two of the longest coast lines in the region, two colonial gems, and decent infrastructure, it combines the variety of Costa Rica with the wildness of the other countries.

COSTA RICA

Costa Rica has grown on me. The people are unique and possess a subtle culture that will crawl into you heart and find a home, just give it time. If you like wildlife, getting outdoors and varied landscapes you will be blown away by Costa Rica. Not as safe as some people will have you think, it is still welcoming and lovely. The tourist infrastructure makes doing things a breeze, but there are still relatively undeveloped pockets, they just require 4 wheel drive and a bit more patience. Make friends with the Ticos, they know the best places and love to have a good time. Throw Nicaragua in the mix and you have an interesting balance of two very different cultures, the opportunity to do more outdoor sports than you can imagine and a hundred possibilities for adventure.

PANAMA

My Panama experience is limited to Bocas Del Toro, and I dug that. Panama City is rumored to be quite and adventure, David and the highlands come highly recommended. Plus there is always the added temptation of trying to reach Colombia overland from here. Send me a postcard if you make it!

So there you go, brief, succinct, and obviously biased. Hope that gives you some insight.

chickens on the bus, fish in my stomach, nicas in the sea!

back on the train

images taken at the Copàn Ruinas, Honduras, Central America


I've been off the blog train for a while now, two weeks in fact. Which is LAME. Because even when I am not writing on the blog shit keeps going down. I like to blame the volcano trail for this sort of thing. The Volcano Trail being the fly by the seat of your zip off pants slalom through central america which I frequently end up leading. This last go round was complete with its wildness, quetzal spottings after late nights at bar amigos, a bit of diving on our stop in Utila, and some ruins visiting in Copàn.
I really dug my last group, they were hard work, but kept me on my toes. I`ve gotten kind of geeked out over birds in the last couple months and a couple of them were really into it. On this trip to Copan I spotted a turquoise crested mot-mot from a fair distances, geeky I tell you.

playing catch up

I know I have been a bit mia from the blog scene for most of october. I don't have so much of an excuse, unless having too much fun is acceptable. So I may stick with that. Mostly what happens is the choice comes down to tying myself to the tiny eee pc and writing about the stuff that has happened or going out and living life as it comes. But of course things have happened that are worth putting words to. So I will try and give you a quick and dirty sense of what october was all about...
place: seoul, korea
duration: 9 hours
mode of transport: airport shuttles, moving sidewalks, feet
Not being the most organized of travelers (a damning admission for a tour leader) I didn't realize that I was going to have a nine hour layover in Seoul until the last minute. Luckily the day before leaving Phnom Penh I had the chance to pick the brain of PCV whose family happens to live in Seoul. He mentioned there being a Kimchi museum in the city, so after checking out Korean culture at the Korean Culture exhibit in the airport and making a traditional paper dish, I jumped on a bus to the city. This of course was a far more complicated process which required talking to many a tourist office, bumbling my way through and atm, buying a bus ticket and finally escaping the airport. But I did make it out of the airport and all the way to some bizarre underground mall where all things Kimchi are housed.
The museum itself was kind of a let down. I mean I think I may have had unreasonable expectations including un montón de kimchi and maybe being able to try to make some myself. On the other hand you can pose yourself next to a mannequin so it looks like she is feeding you kimchi, but I didn't have anyone to take a photo of me doing it. I did learn about the health benefits of Kimchi and finished up the whole experience with a quick lunch of korean fried chicken and many a sauce at some packed mall cafe. Then it was back on the bus, and back to the terminal to smell every Hermes perfume I could find, and debate purchasing overpriced duty free goods.

place: marin county, california
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: gti, feet, mountain bike
It took me a couple of days to de-asia myself. Which meant washing out the Cambodian dust from all my clothes and eating sushi. I also did a ridiculous amount of online purchasing, and hung out with NAR NAR RAR! Oh and I voted. Just so you all know that, I did vote, Dan at the civic center hooked me up with a ballot and I got to practice my democratic right and darkened the bubble for OBAMA. And before I had the chance to unpack mary completely I was off again to...

place: Chicago, illinois
duration: 7 days
mode of transport: alex's merc, the L, feet, one van cab driven by a polish raver
Chicago was COLD. I spent most of my time fighting with Bubbe over how cold my feet must be, which resulted in the purchase of a pair of brown ballet slipper-esque shoes. Apparently you can't wear flips 12 months out of the year in Illinois. Alex showed off urban living mid-west stlyes, and I enjoyed my last tastes of life in the states. Things learned during my time in chicago: Milwaukee is banging, I hate urban driving, there is good mexican food in the middle of the eeuu, I should use "I" statements rather than forcing my political opinions on impressionable children, and one can make a delicious kuguel with rasin bran rather than corn flakes.

place: Antigua, Guatemala
duration: 2 days
mode of transport: taxi, foot
Upon arriving in Guate I found myself without Mary, which meant, no bag, no change of clothes and two days stuck walking around in my new shoes that at that point had caused my heels to bleed. The next two days I spent waiting for my bag, harassing taca, and eating Korean food. There is a korean restaurant in Antigua, run by a Korean guy. And there is KIMCHI. Holy hell.
Finally Mary showed up, flops were put on, and my smile was regained.

place: Xelaju, Guatemala
duration: 6 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, foot, taxi
Two chicken buses, a light coating of guatemalan dust, a quick taxi ride from Minerva to Las Flores and I found myself dancing in an embrace with ALAINA. Holy holy shit. Nothing like seeing a good friend in a bizarre location. The days were spent dancing to prince, madonna, and michael jackson, eating peanut butter by the forkful, telling stories in spanglish, practicing irregular verbs, cooking to motown, and laughter by the bucketful. Alaina, like me, is not so good with travel plans, we had to cut out of Xela a day early to meet her mom in...

place: Antigua, Guatemala again
duration: 4 days
mode of transport: chicken bus, microbus, foot
Back on the chicken bus to chetumal, than a chase for the bus to Antigua, a ramble to the hotel and we were back. Erica arrived late, but the next day we all reunited over a big fruit breakfast. Something that will forever have changed me is the perpetual availability of tropical fruit here. I get twitchy with out a frequent dose of pineapple, papaya, mango, and melon. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
My next trip started on Sunday so besides a jaunt to Santiago for the barilettes gigantes (which deserve their own post with photos) I was running from internet cafes to the korean restaurant to one of the hotels to queso y vino for most of my time back in antigua.
On sunday, the arrival day of my trip I came down with some g.i. bug. So the night before leaving for honduras Alaina held me as I shivered through the night. Big up to the Garries. I love you guys.

Time post Antigua has been mostly spent under the sea. Some of my friends out on Utila have convinced me that getting my dive masters may be the next step for me, I am pretty excited.

I'm in Granada, Nicaragua currently witnessing some pretty wild reactions to yesterdays Mayorial elections. Not quite the same as what just happened in the states. I was with my whole group eating red snapper and watching the states turn blue. It was a pretty amazing thing to witness. The most inspiring part was seeing the international reaction, I was with only one other American, and yet everyone in the bar was plastered to the tv. Change is coming man, change is coming.

More to come on giant kites, maybe some photos, and all the next adventures.

images northbound

dreaming honduras

Most of what I know of Honduras has been witnessed from a bus seat. I press my forehead to the glass and watch the landscape slip by me. It is an enjoyable place to see by bus. I have passed through the same route four times and still there are things to be discovered. Roadside pet selling near the Nicaraguan border, rice paddies, cows doing their thing, clouds doing their thing (which I must remark is often quite impressive here). Additionally Honduras has the best bus station comedor stops; Costa Rica could even learn something from these guys.
Really it is a suprising country. More so than Nicaragua I never imagined spending much time here. I don't think I had any intentions of spending any time here at all. But then Kyle introduced me to the Hondu ways back in October and, well, I just haven't been able to stay away. Maybe it is the dry pine forests that surround the high hills around tegus, or the rumpled coastline that I first caught sight of from a boat bound for the shores of guatemala. There is something terribly romantic about the scenery here, the sunsets linger, the light lengthens until it seems impossibly soft and sexy. It all screams to be photographed, especially the clouds. I haven't seen clouds like this since I was in big sky country.
As for the people I can't say I have gotten to know the Honduranios like the Ticos or Nicas. They do have funny quirks, pointing to places with their lips, preferring flour tortillas to those of maiz. But I like it. I like the way you roll in and out of this place, they have my favorite fronterras, and generally it feels the most laid back of all the central american countries, I think the islas de bahia help with this.
Utila has been my mainstay during my time in Hondu. My job keeps me there for three whole nights (which is a LOT for me). But you never hear me complaining. Utila is a mess of histories, pirates from Scotland, ex-slaves from other carribean island, mixed in with a couple of the native people. It results in that lilting island accent, and communication that happens in english, spanish, and creole, usually a mixture of at least two at a time. Plus there is the stuff happening under the water too.
Oh man, this last couple dives I got in were super tranquilo. I mean there is no other way to describe it. I´ve gotten to the point where I can float with perfect buoyancy and just let the currents cradle me. It is as close to heaven as I am getting in this lifetime. Then there are all the crabs, algaes, corals, this whole thriving world that keeps going on whether we pay it any attention or not. And man is it beautiful. One of my newest discoveries it column coral with all of its little waving fingers that look like wind blowing across hills of dry grass. I might start worshiping in the church of coral and crustaceans. Maybe I already am. And maybe I need to start writing copy for the Honduras tourism board. I will have to look in to that.

the current state of things

I still have volcanic mud embedded in my pinky toes. I am recovering from a visit to the orchid gardens on a caffeine high. And I haven't posted about anything since the islas de bahia. Shit.
I'm not even sure if at this point I can catch up on all the activity. I am thinking that photos might be the solution, but of course I have my camera with me but not the cord, and I am pretty sure that the Monteverde internet might implode under the pressure of photo uploading.

What is a girl to do???
My only solution, which is my always solution is go with randomness...
From the paraiso of utila we shot down south to the stunning metropolis of Tegus. I feel bad because I have never had the time to give Tegus a chance, Kyle tells me it is a kind of cool place to hang out but I have lost my tolerance for central american cities so I think the relationship will continue to be limited to watching tv at the hotel and eating at Los Toros. Our roll on from Tegus to Granada was upgraded from the terror of four buses and a coaster to an air conditioned van including a stop at a texaco that sold reese's peanutbutter cups ( a candy which i had previously believed was endemic to the eeuu). Upon arrival to Granada the day was only improved by the news that we were staying at a nicer hotel.
This was my fifth visit to Granada. I feel like I have developed a love hate relationship with the place. I hate Granada during the day time unless the Garden Cafe is open. I love Granada as soon as the sun sets. I hate the smell of Granada, in the heat it is only worse, and I really hate hate hate that bullshit traditional dance with the giant lady and her tiny tiny pirate husband that is accompanied by the loudest drumming ever. But I can't keep that sourness in my heart for a place that has two wood fire pizza places, one of which serves pizza with potatoes and rosemary. I actually ended up eating pizza two nights in a row, the first time post-volcano/bat/porcupine, and the second time in a wind storm.
Maybe the best thing other than the pizza that happened while I was there was buying new conditioner. I ran out of conditioner in Belize and my hair had been suffering through the last three countries. I finally cracked in Granada and have been using obscene amounts since then. And I shaved my legs... it was a big day for me. Nothing like random hair care and hair removal to make you feel like a girl.
After spending most of monday in and out of the garden cafe, and eating my farewell to Granada breakfast there we headed off to Ometepe. Ooooooo weee. Nestor picked us up after a particularly rough boat ride in his ever being repaired 31 year old van. Less than a hour later we arrived at the shores of Cocibolca to our fly covered hotel.
For some reason all of southern Nicaragua is covered in swarms of the most useless flies ever. They die way too easily to be of any use, and any time I asked about them I received the same answer, "it is fly season." The good thing is the damn flies don't hang out in the cloud forest, and my full day on Ometepe was spent climbing the cloud forest covered Volcan Madera. It was pretty sweet, the center of the volcano has been filled up by water and turned into a lagoon. The cloud forest was particularly cloudy that day so we only caught sight of parts of the far shore, but the overall vibe was very LOTR, plus I saw some pink ferns (which made up for my disappointing sea horse encounter).
Post-volcano recovery included two mugs of black tea and a steamroller nap which left me feeling more tender than I had started. The next day was off to Costa Rica with a 5 am wake up. OOOOOfffftah... ferry, taxi, and then the dreaded evil penas blancas. I HATE Penas Blancas. It is hot, dusty, inconvenient, and no I will not give you a regalo so that I won't have to stand in line for an immigration form where everywhere else in the world just hands them out freely. And why does Tica bus have their own immigration forms? Yarrrgh. The only bright spot in the whole situation is the fact that the Costa Rican office is air conditioned otherwise the whole exercise is evil.
The nice thing is that 1 hour and 20 minutes from the border is Liberia. Liberia is either heaven or Babylon. I can't figure out which, but it has soft serve, mineral water, aguacate and freshly baked bread. And I always make Don Taco stop there for lunch. From there it is a crazy jaunt to the cool air of Monteverde, where I find myself now.

cpr and sea horses

Ummm.... so I am like a rescue diver now. Which I think is freaking cool. I spent the last three days hanging out in the water on the bay island Utila in Honduras. This all happened because I keep getting these crazy ideas in my head that I might get my ass back to Koh Tao and spend some months becoming a dive master, or I am just a glutton for waterborne punishment. Honestly it could be either.

The course includes a lot of being shoved under water by a DMT, practicing rescue breaths, and very very very little actual diving. That being said the time I did get to spend swimming with the fishies was pretty awesome stuff. Saw some cool sand eels that look like sea grass until you get up close and see their little eyes, at which point they retreat back into their holes. Saw a very mossy looking sea horse, which was exciting, except that in my head sea horses are brightly colored and shiny and if you are really lucky might even wink at you. I really thought the one I saw was dead, but I guess they just dig on being covered in algae and are slow slow moving.

san lo y el cuerpo de paz

What have I been getting my self into? Well, Mc Gyvering up some Thai curry for my peace corps friends, watching Honduran soldiers learn how to use condoms, reading the enlightening book ¨Mongo¨, eating local Mangrove clams dug out of the mud by peasents and plotting on mercy killings for the local street dogs. That has all been punctuated by washing my clothes and dishes in Kyle´s almost empty pila and taking bucket showers. So it goes in San Lo.
I have been enjoying my days here, it has given me perspective on the life of Peace corps volunteers, and life in regular non-traveler gringofied Honduras.
San Lorenzo is the main port for Honduras, it is set back from the Pacific protected from the coastal weather by chains of mangrove islands. From the waterfront you can see two volcanoes, the names of which escape me. Views of volcáns at sunset, the moon coming up over the horizon as big as a dinner plate, lush hills with backgrounds of photo worthy clouds, it is pretty beautiful down here.
Kyle has been touring me around the place on foot mostly, though we took a chicken bus (an old bluebird school bus that has been re-born in central america to drag whoever and whatever they are carrying to various locales) out to the local military base. We walked the hour back into town along the Panamerican highway. Things like walking along the highway are, I am coming to learn, some of my favorite parts of traveling. They are unexpected and somewhat mundane, and yet suprisingly satifsying. You see more at walking speed, swarms of swirling vultures above town, the old sugar factory, getting to watch the new shipment of toyotas roll down the road headed to the capital. Along the way we took a break under a big acacia and talked for a while, just to get a break from the heat.
Where I am off to next is up for debate especially as I am now down my only pair of closed toe shoes. I sacraficed my new keens to the Tica bus, a sad sad relization. Traveling is a constant lesson in not getting too attached to your earthly possessions.

¿donde estoy?

So my fair and dedicated readers. I am now in San Lo(renzo), Honduras which is in the southern part of the country sandwiched between El Salvador and Nicaragua. How did I get here? The long and short of it is the tica bus, but the long of it is where the story lies my friends.
My last full day in Granada I spent mostly going to, walking around, and getting home from the markets in Masaya. I headed off on my own, and doing as I do got there with no real sense of where exactly the markets are in the town. Masaya is home to two markets, the local Munincipal market, and the Market Viejo, which means that they sell tourist toot. I found the Munincipal market first, which was overwhelming, muddy, loud, filled with bananas and people. It was so chaotic and busy that I could barely stand it. I´m sure some neo-zen buddhist in some stoned stupor might come up with Masaya Market Meditation, where one focuses on finding their center in the middle of the munincipal market. It is a lesson in semi-organized chaos. Beautiful in its own right, but not the type of place one feels comfortable pulling out a camera and taking photos. Carts were stacked with melons, pithaya, oranges, limes, people were selling underwear from baskets, carts were filled with pirated dvds. The low-ceilinged and leaky back side is occupied by the artesians, shoe makers, hammock sellers, and Nicas selling guatemalan textiles.
After purchasing a pair of leather chancletas (sandals, see Carlos´spanish lessons are coming in handy) for 75 cordoba I headed down the road to the toot market. The Market Viejo is located in something that looks not unlike a decaying fortress of some kind. It is chock full of same-same but different crafts, cheap t-shirts, corona bottles with their necks stretched out (i´m not sure how you would ever get one of those home), all the usual tourist necessities.
That evening after a dinner of Mexican, I settled into bed only to be awoken at four in the morning to Aliens taking over my g.i. system. After an early morning of emptying my body of any last vestiges of food or liquid I managed to pack and drag my sorry self to Nicaragua´s capital, Managua. My plan, which has miraculously worked, was to take the Tica bus from there to San Lorenzo the next morning. I spent the afternoon in Managua hiding from the heat and rolling blackouts in the Interplaza, which is a huge american mall. I watched a movie in an empty theater with two teenage nicas, and then rolled home to a night of sleep set to thunderstorms.
Tuesday morning, only 24 hours after my alien encounter I boarded the Tica bus to Honduras. The ride was gorgeous, jewel green hills and valleys swathed in gray fog; huge clouds stacked up over volcanoes; cows and donkeys munching on grass in wide fields. The ride was easy and I got dropped off right outside of town. Now I am crashing with a friend of Mandy´s and getting to experience a bit of Hoduras that is not on traveler path, my favorite.
Off to watch my new friend Kyle make pizza dough.