So it has been a while since we´ve updated the blog. When we last left you, we were in Flores preparing for the big trip to Tikal. We took a late bus there so that we would arrive alter 3 p.m. and our tickets would be good for two days. Upon arrival, we set up our tent in the courtyard of a fancy hotel and set out to explore the ruins.
Our guide book told us that sun rise and sun set are ¨particularly magical¨but the guides were going to charge us 50 to 60 dollars extra in order to see either. Being cheap, we snack into the ruins as they were closing and evaded the guards as they kicked everyone out. We are so cool. We could hear their motorcycles touring the ruins, but knew they wouldn´t be able to follow us up some of the steeper trails through the rainforest as the sun was going down. We climbed to the top of one of the larger ziggurats and watched the sun go down over the jungle while monkeys played in the Canopy. The stairs to the temple had been closed to preserve them, but there were stairs/ladders that you could climb to get to the top of the edifice. They were really steep, so we went down before the sun had completely set. The sunset was awesome and we could see the tops of several other temples poking out above the tops of the trees. Even so, we had to find our way out of the jungle in complete darkness. Fortunately we had brought flashlights, but it still made for a great adventure.
The next day, we woke at 6 a.m. in order to get an early tour of the ruins before the sun got too hot and there were too many tourists. We decided to go with a Spanish guide because there were fewer people than in the English group (3 versus 40). Our guide was great and it helped to improve our Spanish, too. Tikal is amazing no matter what the conditions are, but it is especially awesome when you don´t have a huge group of ridiculous tourists with you. When we walked in, the park was covered in mist and it was quite eerie as the temples appeared. Afterwards, at about 2 p.m., we ate lunch and hopped a bus to a small town called El Remate.
El Remate isn´t really a town. There is only one street and it goes along the side of the lake. There are several restaurants, tiendas, and hostels, but they´re all spread out so it takes a while to see all 8 buildings. It is absolutely beautiful and peaceful. There was one other guest at our hostel, our new German friend Michel. Like all Germans, he smokes like California forests, speaks English, and is very nice. We only stayed one night but went swimming four or five different times. The lake is warm like a bathtub and flat. Like something flat. It was a chill way to relax after hiking and camping in a rainforest.
Yesterday, we left El Remate and took a bus back to Santa Elena. It was quite shocking to once again see all the hustle and hubbub of a gross city afte so much beauty. There were so many people yelling at us to get on their bus or go to their hotel or eat at their restaurant….it will never stop being annoying. We decided we were done with Guatemala after three amazing weeks and hopped on a bus to Chiquimula, near the El Salvador border.
Chiquimula is not a tourist town, which means it has cheap food and people are confused when they see you. We stayed in a hotel that was part of the bus station in order to get to El Salvador as quickly as possible. Stew woke up and bought a bunch of food at the market. He went overboard because everything was so cheap. For about a dollar, he got a thing of orange juice (thing = plastic bag with straw) , 10 empanadas, three tacos, and two bananas. YUMM! Tori, who was sick, really appreciated the bed side breakfast.
We caught a bus over the border to El Salvador and are currently in a town called Santa Ana. Tomorrow is a mystery. It is more relaxing here and no one yells about buses. We´re happy and safe.
Love,
Us
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
trekking through mayan rainforests
Honduras is still a mess and is getting worse. Zelaya is in the Brazilian embassy in Tegucigalpa and now the embassy is under siege by Michelletti’s forces using toxic gases. The supermarkets are out of food and the situation looks grim. We’re trying to figure out if El Salvador will be a safe way to go around Honduras and get to Nicaragua. If anyone has any advice, we’d love to hear it.
We left Coban and headed to Sayaxche along the Rio de la Pasion. Sayaxche is slightly larger than Bridgewater, but has bars. It reminds Stew of Iquitos, Peru but given the scale, is more like Iquititos. There was nothing to do in the town and we arrived a little to late to get to any of the ruins nearby, which are the only reason to be there. We walked around, got our stove ready with kerosene, purchased food, and got bored. We couldn’t stand the reggaeton blasting from the building next to our hostel so we went out to walk around the town again. This time, we stopped to get a beer in hopes of delaying until the reggaeton stopped and it was late enough to go to bed. This proved fortuitous, as you will later find out.
We returned to the hotel and watched A cut Above with the owner. When it was finally 9 p.m. we went to bed. Tori’s bed had bugs in it, so she ditched and we slept in a twin. Oh college.
At 6 a.m., we got out of bed and on the road. Everyone in the town kept on giving us bad directions on how to get to Ceibal, famous Mayan ruins, and we got pretty frustrated. It is not much of a tourist town, so there are no established means to get to the various ruins. Thus, you have to find someone willing to take you and they will then try to take all of your money. Fortunately, a man we had met the day before was kind enough to convince a bus driver to give us the standard rate to a small town a couple miles down the road and somewhere between Sayaxche and Ceibal.
Side note: the nice guy who helped us is also kind of a jerk. He believes the U.S. requires a military leader to be the arbiter of the world, and thus he loved Bush and hates Obama. It is difficult to stomach this guy being the nice one. Tori was more of a diplomat than Stew, who pretended he didn’t understand Spanish. Thank God Tori is so nice.
We jumped out of the bus and started our 5 mile hike to Ceibal along a dirt path with a bunch of rocks and giant puddles. Also, monsters. We saw many toads and lizards, a trillion mosquitos, two tarantulas, and a snake.
Sidenote: Stew does not like spiders.
Here are three things that ought not be endangered *colon*
Manatees, jaguars, Honduran democracy
Here are three things that ought to be endangered *colon*
Mosquitos, spiders, and howler monkeys.
Now back to our proper punctuation. After a pretty sweaty hike through the hot and humid rainforest, we arrived at a very basic compound by the ruins. About 10 guards live there and maintain the ruins while they wait to be fully excavated. Guatemala does not have the money to excavate them, so some Japonese are going to do it. About 1 % is excavated now, or two buildings. We got to see all of the covered buildings, many carved stones, much of the jungle, and the spectacular views from the top of the Mayan market.
One finds an interesting conflict with regard to the excavation of Ceibal. First, the local communities do not want it protected. They want to use the land for agriculture because they are impoverished. More land means more food and better living conditions. So, they attack the stellae *carved rocks* with their machetes in an attempt to destroy the historic beauty and prevent any further excavation. Paradoxically, now that several years have gone by since the excavations, local communities are recreating Mayan sacrifices with chickens whenever agriculture suffers. If you sacrifice a chicken for rain and rain comes five days later, it appears to have worked. Every body wins. Unless you count chickens. They always lose in Latin America. Second, the preservation of ancient cultures is important to many for its academic value. The longer we wait to excavate, the more deteriorated the ruins become. Once these are gone, they cannot be replaced. Thirdly, the environmentalist perspective. In order to excavate the ruins requires destroying the jungle around and on top of the ruins. Central America and the world in general do not need any more jungles destroyed, as they too are difficult to replace and important for the sustainment of our environment. Oxygen and biodiversity rule. Jaguars prefer this option. Finally, Guatemala does not have the finances for it and requires international academic communities to provide the money for the excavation and preservation. However, the Japonese insist on taking all of the artifacts, thus depriving the Guatemalans of their cultural heritage and some of the benefits of excavation.
After our exciting tour by Manuel, we returned to the main site where we set up our tent. We were exhausted and mosquito bitten, so we took a nap. We later woke, made dinner, and went back to sleep. At 645. 12 hours later, we awoke again and hiked out.
Today we took a bus to Flores, a beautiful island near Tikal. We will visit the ruins of Tikal tomorrow. Word. We love history and Mayan ruins. Tonight we have a romantic date planned on the lakeside to watch the sunset over the water and eat fancy food at one of the many nice restaurants in the area.
We uploaded pictures on facebook because the computer has a scandisk drive. You’ll have to check Stew’s profile to see them because our blog loads pictures really slowly. Sorry.
₌
We left Coban and headed to Sayaxche along the Rio de la Pasion. Sayaxche is slightly larger than Bridgewater, but has bars. It reminds Stew of Iquitos, Peru but given the scale, is more like Iquititos. There was nothing to do in the town and we arrived a little to late to get to any of the ruins nearby, which are the only reason to be there. We walked around, got our stove ready with kerosene, purchased food, and got bored. We couldn’t stand the reggaeton blasting from the building next to our hostel so we went out to walk around the town again. This time, we stopped to get a beer in hopes of delaying until the reggaeton stopped and it was late enough to go to bed. This proved fortuitous, as you will later find out.
We returned to the hotel and watched A cut Above with the owner. When it was finally 9 p.m. we went to bed. Tori’s bed had bugs in it, so she ditched and we slept in a twin. Oh college.
At 6 a.m., we got out of bed and on the road. Everyone in the town kept on giving us bad directions on how to get to Ceibal, famous Mayan ruins, and we got pretty frustrated. It is not much of a tourist town, so there are no established means to get to the various ruins. Thus, you have to find someone willing to take you and they will then try to take all of your money. Fortunately, a man we had met the day before was kind enough to convince a bus driver to give us the standard rate to a small town a couple miles down the road and somewhere between Sayaxche and Ceibal.
Side note: the nice guy who helped us is also kind of a jerk. He believes the U.S. requires a military leader to be the arbiter of the world, and thus he loved Bush and hates Obama. It is difficult to stomach this guy being the nice one. Tori was more of a diplomat than Stew, who pretended he didn’t understand Spanish. Thank God Tori is so nice.
We jumped out of the bus and started our 5 mile hike to Ceibal along a dirt path with a bunch of rocks and giant puddles. Also, monsters. We saw many toads and lizards, a trillion mosquitos, two tarantulas, and a snake.
Sidenote: Stew does not like spiders.
Here are three things that ought not be endangered *colon*
Manatees, jaguars, Honduran democracy
Here are three things that ought to be endangered *colon*
Mosquitos, spiders, and howler monkeys.
Now back to our proper punctuation. After a pretty sweaty hike through the hot and humid rainforest, we arrived at a very basic compound by the ruins. About 10 guards live there and maintain the ruins while they wait to be fully excavated. Guatemala does not have the money to excavate them, so some Japonese are going to do it. About 1 % is excavated now, or two buildings. We got to see all of the covered buildings, many carved stones, much of the jungle, and the spectacular views from the top of the Mayan market.
One finds an interesting conflict with regard to the excavation of Ceibal. First, the local communities do not want it protected. They want to use the land for agriculture because they are impoverished. More land means more food and better living conditions. So, they attack the stellae *carved rocks* with their machetes in an attempt to destroy the historic beauty and prevent any further excavation. Paradoxically, now that several years have gone by since the excavations, local communities are recreating Mayan sacrifices with chickens whenever agriculture suffers. If you sacrifice a chicken for rain and rain comes five days later, it appears to have worked. Every body wins. Unless you count chickens. They always lose in Latin America. Second, the preservation of ancient cultures is important to many for its academic value. The longer we wait to excavate, the more deteriorated the ruins become. Once these are gone, they cannot be replaced. Thirdly, the environmentalist perspective. In order to excavate the ruins requires destroying the jungle around and on top of the ruins. Central America and the world in general do not need any more jungles destroyed, as they too are difficult to replace and important for the sustainment of our environment. Oxygen and biodiversity rule. Jaguars prefer this option. Finally, Guatemala does not have the finances for it and requires international academic communities to provide the money for the excavation and preservation. However, the Japonese insist on taking all of the artifacts, thus depriving the Guatemalans of their cultural heritage and some of the benefits of excavation.
After our exciting tour by Manuel, we returned to the main site where we set up our tent. We were exhausted and mosquito bitten, so we took a nap. We later woke, made dinner, and went back to sleep. At 645. 12 hours later, we awoke again and hiked out.
Today we took a bus to Flores, a beautiful island near Tikal. We will visit the ruins of Tikal tomorrow. Word. We love history and Mayan ruins. Tonight we have a romantic date planned on the lakeside to watch the sunset over the water and eat fancy food at one of the many nice restaurants in the area.
We uploaded pictures on facebook because the computer has a scandisk drive. You’ll have to check Stew’s profile to see them because our blog loads pictures really slowly. Sorry.
₌
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Honduras
Is not going so well. So we won´t be going there to volunteer, which is sad. Much sadder is the plight of the Honduran people who, no matter which side of the political spectrum you or they are on, will lose.
Take the time to read some news and educate yourself on this issue as this is probably only the beginning of a much bigger and very sad situation.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8271309.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8267982.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8269073.stm
From what we´ve read, there is a lot of posturing on both sides and neither will negotiate. They are both committed to gaining power and are unwilling to compromise. Regardless of who is the rightful, democratic, or best leader for Honduras, this does not bode well for the Honduran people who are torn between two political extremes. We hope for the best and a peaceful resolution, but given Zelaya´s demands for either ¨patria, restitucion, or sangre¨and Michelletti´s use of armed weapons against protestors, an ideal resolution seems unlikely.
We´re not sure how the English news is portraying it, but the paper in Guatemala paints a grim picture. We won´t be going there anymore, which is unfortunate for us and the children we had hoped to aid.
Take the time to read some news and educate yourself on this issue as this is probably only the beginning of a much bigger and very sad situation.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8271309.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8267982.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8269073.stm
From what we´ve read, there is a lot of posturing on both sides and neither will negotiate. They are both committed to gaining power and are unwilling to compromise. Regardless of who is the rightful, democratic, or best leader for Honduras, this does not bode well for the Honduran people who are torn between two political extremes. We hope for the best and a peaceful resolution, but given Zelaya´s demands for either ¨patria, restitucion, or sangre¨and Michelletti´s use of armed weapons against protestors, an ideal resolution seems unlikely.
We´re not sure how the English news is portraying it, but the paper in Guatemala paints a grim picture. We won´t be going there anymore, which is unfortunate for us and the children we had hoped to aid.
Caves, waterfalls, and pozas!
When we last left off, we were hitting the hay early in preparation for a 6 a.m. wake up in order to get to Las Grutas del Rey Marcos before the crowd. It turns out there is no crowd and we were the only ones going to these off the beaten path caves, but it was still nice to get an early start. The day lasts a lot longer that way.
First, we took a micro bus with a bunch of locals to a small town called Chalmeco, where we picked up another micro. Micros, by the way, are normal sized American vans (8 passengers) with an extra row of seating and three to four times the appropriate number of people (ok, only 23 at last count, but that is still crazy). The second one dropped us off at a fork in mud road. We proceeded to walk 3 km up a hill past indigenas farms until we arrived at the caves.
The setting was beautiful: waterfalls, natural swimming pools, orchids, a fountain, several small cabana structures, and a giant heart shaped rock in the river inscribed with the Ten commandments of Mother Nature. The caves had a tiny entrance: about the size of a dorm room refrigerator. Stew was confused and hit his head a lot, but was wearing a helmet so he didn´t get hurt, just more confused. The caves eventually (after a perilous climb that required stalactite grabbing for safety and lots of emphatic grunting for emphasis) opened up and revealed a rushing underground river. We had to cross it carefully, as it is a sacred religious Mayan site and also a rushing underground river. Fortunately there was a rope. There was a giant final room where we turned off our lights to contemplate the total darkness and become scared. Afterwards, we went swimming and took pictures standing in a waterfall. We´re planning on starting a TLC coverband when we get back and needed album artwork.
These aren´t our photos because our cable was stolen but they´re photos. We´re trying.
http://www.grutasdelreymarcos.com/galerias.htm
We hiked back down the road and eventually caught a taxi back to Coban (about an hour ride) for less than a dollar each. Tori is a great negotiator. She also made friends with the driver and taught him how to sing reggaeton songs in English, which they were both excited about. Stew demonstrated his comprehension by agreeing ¨Si¨ or ¨esta bien¨ every five minutes.
We caught a micro to Lanquin which was only mildly less crazy than our ride the day before. Sorry parents, we´re trying to stop, but it is the only way to get from the highlands to the jungle. There are no trains in Guatemala. When we got to Lanquin, we realized we had time for another cave, and hiked back down the road carrying our full packs because we wanted to make it before the cave closed.
We got there in plenty of time and saw some of the most amazing formations in the world. This cave was much larger and had seriously difficult rock climbing involved. There was also a beautiful river outside called Rio Lanquin (real creative guys). We waited to see the bats leave en masse, which was pretty spectacular as there are more bats here than anywhere else in the world. In fact, it was featured on Planet Earth for this reason. We saw a weak display, apparently, but we were still impressed. http://www.semucchampey.com/es/lanquin-cuevas.html This is not the most impressive photo or link but it gives an idea. It is much better in real life.
We caught a ride to a hostel called Jam bamboo near Semuc Champey after the bat show. It was pretty lucky because the hike back to town would´ve been too much for one day. The hostel was the most beautiful yet. Like a Hawaiian themed frat party minus the tackiness. It was owned by Argentines who make an excellent caiparinha and pasta carbonara. Both are weird for Guatemala or Argentina, but both are welcome anytime and anywhere. The only bad thing were the howler monkeys that do not understand Stew yelling angrily in English to stop waking him up.
This morning we went to Semuc Champey, a nature reserve. We took a hike up a muddy steep trail through the rainforest until we came to an overlook and could see all of the river below us. There were several clear pools flowing into each other through a series of waterfalls. The view is amazing. Then we hiked down and went swimming and diving in them. We are not as good at doing flips off waterfalls as Guatemalans, but we did our best. There was also a furious river rushing underneath the falls, meaning that we were actually on a land bridge over a subterranean river and cave network. Pretty cool. http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semuc_Champey
Also, a honeymooning couple that we traveled with yesterday and today offered to send us their pictures. If they follow through, we will be happy to forward the email to anyone that wants it. Just post your email address in a comment or send us an email and we´ll forward it when we get it.
First, we took a micro bus with a bunch of locals to a small town called Chalmeco, where we picked up another micro. Micros, by the way, are normal sized American vans (8 passengers) with an extra row of seating and three to four times the appropriate number of people (ok, only 23 at last count, but that is still crazy). The second one dropped us off at a fork in mud road. We proceeded to walk 3 km up a hill past indigenas farms until we arrived at the caves.
The setting was beautiful: waterfalls, natural swimming pools, orchids, a fountain, several small cabana structures, and a giant heart shaped rock in the river inscribed with the Ten commandments of Mother Nature. The caves had a tiny entrance: about the size of a dorm room refrigerator. Stew was confused and hit his head a lot, but was wearing a helmet so he didn´t get hurt, just more confused. The caves eventually (after a perilous climb that required stalactite grabbing for safety and lots of emphatic grunting for emphasis) opened up and revealed a rushing underground river. We had to cross it carefully, as it is a sacred religious Mayan site and also a rushing underground river. Fortunately there was a rope. There was a giant final room where we turned off our lights to contemplate the total darkness and become scared. Afterwards, we went swimming and took pictures standing in a waterfall. We´re planning on starting a TLC coverband when we get back and needed album artwork.
These aren´t our photos because our cable was stolen but they´re photos. We´re trying.
http://www.grutasdelreymarcos.com/galerias.htm
We hiked back down the road and eventually caught a taxi back to Coban (about an hour ride) for less than a dollar each. Tori is a great negotiator. She also made friends with the driver and taught him how to sing reggaeton songs in English, which they were both excited about. Stew demonstrated his comprehension by agreeing ¨Si¨ or ¨esta bien¨ every five minutes.
We caught a micro to Lanquin which was only mildly less crazy than our ride the day before. Sorry parents, we´re trying to stop, but it is the only way to get from the highlands to the jungle. There are no trains in Guatemala. When we got to Lanquin, we realized we had time for another cave, and hiked back down the road carrying our full packs because we wanted to make it before the cave closed.
We got there in plenty of time and saw some of the most amazing formations in the world. This cave was much larger and had seriously difficult rock climbing involved. There was also a beautiful river outside called Rio Lanquin (real creative guys). We waited to see the bats leave en masse, which was pretty spectacular as there are more bats here than anywhere else in the world. In fact, it was featured on Planet Earth for this reason. We saw a weak display, apparently, but we were still impressed. http://www.semucchampey.com/es/lanquin-cuevas.html This is not the most impressive photo or link but it gives an idea. It is much better in real life.
We caught a ride to a hostel called Jam bamboo near Semuc Champey after the bat show. It was pretty lucky because the hike back to town would´ve been too much for one day. The hostel was the most beautiful yet. Like a Hawaiian themed frat party minus the tackiness. It was owned by Argentines who make an excellent caiparinha and pasta carbonara. Both are weird for Guatemala or Argentina, but both are welcome anytime and anywhere. The only bad thing were the howler monkeys that do not understand Stew yelling angrily in English to stop waking him up.
This morning we went to Semuc Champey, a nature reserve. We took a hike up a muddy steep trail through the rainforest until we came to an overlook and could see all of the river below us. There were several clear pools flowing into each other through a series of waterfalls. The view is amazing. Then we hiked down and went swimming and diving in them. We are not as good at doing flips off waterfalls as Guatemalans, but we did our best. There was also a furious river rushing underneath the falls, meaning that we were actually on a land bridge over a subterranean river and cave network. Pretty cool. http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semuc_Champey
Also, a honeymooning couple that we traveled with yesterday and today offered to send us their pictures. If they follow through, we will be happy to forward the email to anyone that wants it. Just post your email address in a comment or send us an email and we´ll forward it when we get it.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Ridin´ Dirrty
After a relaxing in the lovely Fuentes Georginas hotsprings, we decided that 24 hours was certainly enough time to spend in Xela. To be fair, the hotsprings were beautiful, steaming hot, and relaxing. They didn´t even smell too sulphuric, which was a pleasant surprise.
When we showed up to the bus station in Xela, we were dismayed to find that there were no direct buses back to San Pedrom (a good jumping off point to other desirable destinations), nor were there any buses direct to Coban, the next town we wanted to head to. Desperate to leave the dirty city, we went spontaneous and jumped ona bus to Santa Cruz del Quiche, as from our map that seemed to be about half way between Xela and Coban.
Santa Cruz del Quiche is definitely NOT a chief tourist destination. In fact, the only other gringos on the bus were peace corps volunteers (who basically convinced us never to do the peace corps - too much beauracracy). It was pretty refreshing to stay some place where we were not assaulted every few minutes by various handicrafts vendors. However, the povertty we saw there was striking and not a little depressing: a little boy barely so small his backpack dragged on the ground was attempting to shine the shoes of those passing by.
We left el Quiche early this morning to make our way towards Coban on some of the craziest roads I´ve ever been on. The peace corps volunteers we had met on the bus complained that they weren´t allowed to go certain places in Guatemala, inclduing the road to Coban. After coming here, I totally understand why it´s restricted.
The road winded and twisted at terrifying degrees and in many places was covered with gravel and boulders from recent landslides. At one point we saw a rock actually roll down the hill past our bus. Aside from the terror, though, the ride was quite thrilling. The scenery was jaw-droppingly beautiful, replete with lush forests and craggy mountains, gurgling rivers and tropical flowers. Nevertheless, because of the poor conditions of the roads, what looked like it would take about 3 hours on a map ended up taking 8. Pobrecito Stew´s arm got really sunburned when he fell asleep with it out the window! Also, in case you all are curious, his eye feels much much better and he may even begin wearing contacts again tomorrow.
Once we arrived in Coban, everything was closed. Nevertheless, we walked to every attraction we wanted to see in the hopes that our book was incorrect. At least we know where everything is for later!
Tomorrow morning we plan to go caving in an old Mayan religous spot, where a sacred underground river flows. If were lucky, we may stumble upon a religous ceremony in progress. Cross your fingers for us!
When we showed up to the bus station in Xela, we were dismayed to find that there were no direct buses back to San Pedrom (a good jumping off point to other desirable destinations), nor were there any buses direct to Coban, the next town we wanted to head to. Desperate to leave the dirty city, we went spontaneous and jumped ona bus to Santa Cruz del Quiche, as from our map that seemed to be about half way between Xela and Coban.
Santa Cruz del Quiche is definitely NOT a chief tourist destination. In fact, the only other gringos on the bus were peace corps volunteers (who basically convinced us never to do the peace corps - too much beauracracy). It was pretty refreshing to stay some place where we were not assaulted every few minutes by various handicrafts vendors. However, the povertty we saw there was striking and not a little depressing: a little boy barely so small his backpack dragged on the ground was attempting to shine the shoes of those passing by.
We left el Quiche early this morning to make our way towards Coban on some of the craziest roads I´ve ever been on. The peace corps volunteers we had met on the bus complained that they weren´t allowed to go certain places in Guatemala, inclduing the road to Coban. After coming here, I totally understand why it´s restricted.
The road winded and twisted at terrifying degrees and in many places was covered with gravel and boulders from recent landslides. At one point we saw a rock actually roll down the hill past our bus. Aside from the terror, though, the ride was quite thrilling. The scenery was jaw-droppingly beautiful, replete with lush forests and craggy mountains, gurgling rivers and tropical flowers. Nevertheless, because of the poor conditions of the roads, what looked like it would take about 3 hours on a map ended up taking 8. Pobrecito Stew´s arm got really sunburned when he fell asleep with it out the window! Also, in case you all are curious, his eye feels much much better and he may even begin wearing contacts again tomorrow.
Once we arrived in Coban, everything was closed. Nevertheless, we walked to every attraction we wanted to see in the hopes that our book was incorrect. At least we know where everything is for later!
Tomorrow morning we plan to go caving in an old Mayan religous spot, where a sacred underground river flows. If were lucky, we may stumble upon a religous ceremony in progress. Cross your fingers for us!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
QuetzaltaNOGO
Today we decided it was time to leave lovely San Pedro. After five days of sunshine and fun, we were getting a little complacent. We decided Quetzaltenango, better known as Xela (Shay-la) should be our next stop due to the excellent things we had heard about the town from acquaintances in the US. So we got on yet another brightly painted American school bus, known as a chicken bus here, only to find that it had served the school district of Buena Vista, VA. Wacky, wacky.
On to Xela: Dude, don´t go there.
It´s nothing but a big dirty city - for those in the know, like Lima, but without all the charm. You might think a little central american sunshine would improve things, but that is not the case. We got here early in the afternoon, in time to hit up the city´s chief museum - el museo de cultura y naturaleza - right after checking into our hostel. It was easily the most bizarre place either of us had ever been, right up there with the largest prarie dog in Kansas.
The musuem´s first floor is filled with random electronics, various curiosities demonstrating Guatemala´s importance to modern Western culture (ie: a certificate of completion for a Guatemalan that swam across the English channel), and lots of typed documents. You´re also not allowed to talk to each other, or touch or photograph anything.
Little did we know what treasures awaited us on the second floor of the musuem. We passed through a random collection of Mayan artifacts that lacked significant descriptions, aside from 20th C paintings depicting the progress of Mayan civilization....didn´t look much like the history we studied: colonial era is depicted as Mayans killing Spaniards, and everything after is symbolized by the dove of peace! Then we got to the really weird stuff.
The far back room was the natural history portion of the musuem, where taxodermies abounded, but were so poorly done that you could barely tell what the animals were. Of course, there was a two-headed calf to gawk at (is every two-headed calf stuffed??), mountain lions, an armadillo, and more....but what really freaked us out were all of the FETUSES IN JARS!!!! They featured just about every type of animal, including humans. In a country where abortion is illegal, where do you get a fetus to put in a jar and showcase in a museum? Who puts a fetus in a jar?
Beyond the weirdo musuem, Xela is fairly expensive. We´re paying signifincatly more than we have anywhere else, and our hostel is not nearly as nice or as cool. The high rates are probably due to the large number of hippied-out gringos that have made this their home. We don´t really understand why they chose Xela...maybe we´ll find out tomorrow when we visit Fuentes Georginas, some nearby hotsprings fed by volcanos. There´s supposed to be great hiking and outdoor activities here, but the city itself is not worth a visit.
On to Xela: Dude, don´t go there.
It´s nothing but a big dirty city - for those in the know, like Lima, but without all the charm. You might think a little central american sunshine would improve things, but that is not the case. We got here early in the afternoon, in time to hit up the city´s chief museum - el museo de cultura y naturaleza - right after checking into our hostel. It was easily the most bizarre place either of us had ever been, right up there with the largest prarie dog in Kansas.
The musuem´s first floor is filled with random electronics, various curiosities demonstrating Guatemala´s importance to modern Western culture (ie: a certificate of completion for a Guatemalan that swam across the English channel), and lots of typed documents. You´re also not allowed to talk to each other, or touch or photograph anything.
Little did we know what treasures awaited us on the second floor of the musuem. We passed through a random collection of Mayan artifacts that lacked significant descriptions, aside from 20th C paintings depicting the progress of Mayan civilization....didn´t look much like the history we studied: colonial era is depicted as Mayans killing Spaniards, and everything after is symbolized by the dove of peace! Then we got to the really weird stuff.
The far back room was the natural history portion of the musuem, where taxodermies abounded, but were so poorly done that you could barely tell what the animals were. Of course, there was a two-headed calf to gawk at (is every two-headed calf stuffed??), mountain lions, an armadillo, and more....but what really freaked us out were all of the FETUSES IN JARS!!!! They featured just about every type of animal, including humans. In a country where abortion is illegal, where do you get a fetus to put in a jar and showcase in a museum? Who puts a fetus in a jar?
Beyond the weirdo musuem, Xela is fairly expensive. We´re paying signifincatly more than we have anywhere else, and our hostel is not nearly as nice or as cool. The high rates are probably due to the large number of hippied-out gringos that have made this their home. We don´t really understand why they chose Xela...maybe we´ll find out tomorrow when we visit Fuentes Georginas, some nearby hotsprings fed by volcanos. There´s supposed to be great hiking and outdoor activities here, but the city itself is not worth a visit.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Atitlan, Guate-buena
We have spent the last few days at Lago de Atitlan in a small town called San Pedro. The lake is surrounded by volcanos and is considered the Gateway to the western highlands. There are definitely more indígena people than there were in Antigua (where a lot of people dressed in european fashions). Boy do we stick out. >The town we´re in is one of the more heavily visited by tourists, though not as bad as nearby Panajachel. We´re still managing to live pretty cheaply, though our first night we splurged on an awesome hotel right on the lake in this notorious party town.
The next day was Indepedence day, but Stew was sick perhaps from some bad wáter and spent the entire day in bed, also nursing an eye infection. Bummer. “pobrecito,” said Tori. We caught a glimpse of some of the parades as we walked to find food intermintently. There were many children in fancy uniforms reminiscent of Napoleon carrying instruments three times their size. It woud have been a lot cuter if not for the constant pounding of the drums/our heads.
On Wednesday, Stew felt a lot better and we went out in kayaks (cayacs) to San Marcos, where we met a Little indígena girl named Sandra. She led us to a nice rock beach where we dove off the a small structure into the wáter and took a bunch of pictures. It didn´t seem like she had ever seen a photo of herself, at least not in the immediate versión that a digicam provides. It was pretty cool to talk to her and convince her to jump with us. She told us she had a lot of fun, too. We then took our kayak back across the lake and the winds picked up. Stew was a Little heavy for our tiny kayak and the back of our boat was literally below the lake by the time we got back. Exhaustedly, we made our way to an American ex pat´s “Phat Burger” and ordered an Obamaburger which comes with bacon, cheese, every thing else, and is especially large. We hung out with our hostel mates that night. Angelique is from Holland (as is a weird guy we met at Antigua that is here again), Claudia is from Germany, Hellen is from Manchester, and again we are the only Americans (except for Marissa).
Stew´s eye was not feeling any better yesterday, so we tried to go to a doctor. The doctor Works in a different town, so we paid Domigo (about 13 years old…maybe)a tuc tuc driver, to wait at the dock and bring the doctor to us. Surprisingly, this worked and the doctor came into our hostel room and examined Stew. He wasn´t sure what was wrong because Stew´s contacts aren´t supposed to cause the problem that he appears to have, but he promised to bring us medicine when he returned from work the next day (today).
Today, we went to the market and purchased a bunch of ingredients to make a delicious breakfast of fried potatoes, sausage, pepper, onion, and pineapple (separate). Our friends declared it a delicious American style breakfast. Claudia was excited about our sausage. Afterwards, we caught a ferry to Santiago, the city where the doctor Works. We stuck out even more there because we were the only tourists in an otherwise indígena town. There is a catedral with a monument to victims of the Guatemalan civil war. In Santiago, there was veritable genocide commited against the Mayan populations by the right wing Guatemalan army.
A Little boy took us to a visit a Mayan god, Maximon. It is basically an idol dressed in small clothes with a cigar in his mouth and a cigarette in his wife´s. The idol moves from house to house in a town wide ceremony each year and all who visit must show their respects with a tip. Apparently, this will bring us good health. Normally, you pay a doctor for good health, but if the doctor is free, there is no need for Pascal´s wager to ensure good health. It is difficult to ensure good health in the U.S. after throwing Money at an idol, but one need not even tip a doctor for house visits. Rad.
We tried to find the national park, a preservation for a now extinct bird, but failed. We ate a delicious lunch of avocado, cheese, and tortilla in a beautiful park. After looking at some various art and tourist ítems, we walked into a gallery of a world renowned artist, featured at the Louvre and everywhere else. www.artereanda.blogspot.com is his website. It was cool to see his stuff and much more striking. Also, he gave us high fives and “pounds.”
SIDENOTE
While in LA, we met up with Stew´s friend Travis who drove usa round the town. He is starting a clothing line www.ninjaneishon.com and a ninja fraternity www.neishon.com We visited a clothing distributor where he can just walk in and grab free stuff to sample. Awesome. He gave Stew a free shirt and he has been repping Neishon wear all over Guatemala. The clothes are sweet.
Also, it is imposible to type on these keyboards. Forgive the errors.
The next day was Indepedence day, but Stew was sick perhaps from some bad wáter and spent the entire day in bed, also nursing an eye infection. Bummer. “pobrecito,” said Tori. We caught a glimpse of some of the parades as we walked to find food intermintently. There were many children in fancy uniforms reminiscent of Napoleon carrying instruments three times their size. It woud have been a lot cuter if not for the constant pounding of the drums/our heads.
On Wednesday, Stew felt a lot better and we went out in kayaks (cayacs) to San Marcos, where we met a Little indígena girl named Sandra. She led us to a nice rock beach where we dove off the a small structure into the wáter and took a bunch of pictures. It didn´t seem like she had ever seen a photo of herself, at least not in the immediate versión that a digicam provides. It was pretty cool to talk to her and convince her to jump with us. She told us she had a lot of fun, too. We then took our kayak back across the lake and the winds picked up. Stew was a Little heavy for our tiny kayak and the back of our boat was literally below the lake by the time we got back. Exhaustedly, we made our way to an American ex pat´s “Phat Burger” and ordered an Obamaburger which comes with bacon, cheese, every thing else, and is especially large. We hung out with our hostel mates that night. Angelique is from Holland (as is a weird guy we met at Antigua that is here again), Claudia is from Germany, Hellen is from Manchester, and again we are the only Americans (except for Marissa).
Stew´s eye was not feeling any better yesterday, so we tried to go to a doctor. The doctor Works in a different town, so we paid Domigo (about 13 years old…maybe)a tuc tuc driver, to wait at the dock and bring the doctor to us. Surprisingly, this worked and the doctor came into our hostel room and examined Stew. He wasn´t sure what was wrong because Stew´s contacts aren´t supposed to cause the problem that he appears to have, but he promised to bring us medicine when he returned from work the next day (today).
Today, we went to the market and purchased a bunch of ingredients to make a delicious breakfast of fried potatoes, sausage, pepper, onion, and pineapple (separate). Our friends declared it a delicious American style breakfast. Claudia was excited about our sausage. Afterwards, we caught a ferry to Santiago, the city where the doctor Works. We stuck out even more there because we were the only tourists in an otherwise indígena town. There is a catedral with a monument to victims of the Guatemalan civil war. In Santiago, there was veritable genocide commited against the Mayan populations by the right wing Guatemalan army.
A Little boy took us to a visit a Mayan god, Maximon. It is basically an idol dressed in small clothes with a cigar in his mouth and a cigarette in his wife´s. The idol moves from house to house in a town wide ceremony each year and all who visit must show their respects with a tip. Apparently, this will bring us good health. Normally, you pay a doctor for good health, but if the doctor is free, there is no need for Pascal´s wager to ensure good health. It is difficult to ensure good health in the U.S. after throwing Money at an idol, but one need not even tip a doctor for house visits. Rad.
We tried to find the national park, a preservation for a now extinct bird, but failed. We ate a delicious lunch of avocado, cheese, and tortilla in a beautiful park. After looking at some various art and tourist ítems, we walked into a gallery of a world renowned artist, featured at the Louvre and everywhere else. www.artereanda.blogspot.com is his website. It was cool to see his stuff and much more striking. Also, he gave us high fives and “pounds.”
SIDENOTE
While in LA, we met up with Stew´s friend Travis who drove usa round the town. He is starting a clothing line www.ninjaneishon.com and a ninja fraternity www.neishon.com We visited a clothing distributor where he can just walk in and grab free stuff to sample. Awesome. He gave Stew a free shirt and he has been repping Neishon wear all over Guatemala. The clothes are sweet.
Also, it is imposible to type on these keyboards. Forgive the errors.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
In Antigua, Guatemala!
We`ve spent the last few days hanging out in beautiful, colonial Antigua. Our trip here was exhausting, but we found our hostel quite easily. We´re staying at La Posada Ruiz, a small and cheap hostel ($5 a night for both of us!), though it lacks certain amenities. We have a shared bathroom and showers, which stangely have locks on both sides. Fortunately, no one has been locked in yet.
On the first day, we explored the town, saw some old ruins the central park (they have a giant fountain with naked women that have water leaking from their nipples), and took a nap before going out to El Gato Negro for a few drinks with some fellow travelers. We retired early, as we had never really recovered from our36 hour journey from Los Gatos.
On Saturday, we woke early and got breakfast at a random restaurant near the local market. We split the lunch special in order to save money. Unfortunately the vegetables came doused in mayonnaise, thereby undermining their freshness and healthiness. Tori refused to eat them. Stew was hungry. Later, we saw an exhibit of a Guatemalan photographer Julio Zadik in an old convent, went on a hike to the top of the hill overlooking Antigua that sports a giant cross, saw more ruined cathedrals, visited the local market and purchased ingredients for mojitos. In one of the cathedrals, there was a really interesting cross adorned with various instruments of labor: liberation theology, perhaps? Another had a small set of stairs leading down to a subterranean alter where people had burned cigars and candles for various reasons (ward off spirits, bring good luck, prevent disease, etc), but the smoke had caused the crucifix and the rest of the room to become coated in a thick black soot. Outside of one park (there are many, mostly in disrepair with beautiful old fountains, destroyed buildings, and lots of flowers), the fountain had one side dedicated to small kiosk like areas for people to wash their clothes in public. We might take advantage of that.
Last night we made mojitos with our neighbors in the hostel, including Marissa (a UVa Alum) and Petr (from the Czech Republic), The night before we had met another UVa student (kind of), as well as a friend of ours today who just graduated from UVa. Strange coincidences. Last night we dined at a fancy restaurant because all of the other restaurants were closed by the time we left the hostel. This week is a giant party in anticipation of Independence Day on Tuesday, so most of the inexpensive places close so their owners can go party.
Overall, Antigua is a really cool city with old cobblestone streets, cathedrals, fountains, and a palace. Most of it was destroyed in the earthquake of 1673 and subsequent earthquakes (the town gets destroyed about every 50 years) and it has never been fully rebuilt. Thus, most of it still lies in ruins and it is unlikely it will ever return to its former glory as the capital of Central America. It is mostly a tourist town now, though this week many Guatemalans have flooded into the town for the Independence day celebrations. It is crazy to see more Guatemalan tourists than gringos, as this is not usually the case. Tomorrow we head off for Lago de Atitlan, a lake in the mountains with various small towns dotted around its shores.
On the first day, we explored the town, saw some old ruins the central park (they have a giant fountain with naked women that have water leaking from their nipples), and took a nap before going out to El Gato Negro for a few drinks with some fellow travelers. We retired early, as we had never really recovered from our36 hour journey from Los Gatos.
On Saturday, we woke early and got breakfast at a random restaurant near the local market. We split the lunch special in order to save money. Unfortunately the vegetables came doused in mayonnaise, thereby undermining their freshness and healthiness. Tori refused to eat them. Stew was hungry. Later, we saw an exhibit of a Guatemalan photographer Julio Zadik in an old convent, went on a hike to the top of the hill overlooking Antigua that sports a giant cross, saw more ruined cathedrals, visited the local market and purchased ingredients for mojitos. In one of the cathedrals, there was a really interesting cross adorned with various instruments of labor: liberation theology, perhaps? Another had a small set of stairs leading down to a subterranean alter where people had burned cigars and candles for various reasons (ward off spirits, bring good luck, prevent disease, etc), but the smoke had caused the crucifix and the rest of the room to become coated in a thick black soot. Outside of one park (there are many, mostly in disrepair with beautiful old fountains, destroyed buildings, and lots of flowers), the fountain had one side dedicated to small kiosk like areas for people to wash their clothes in public. We might take advantage of that.
Last night we made mojitos with our neighbors in the hostel, including Marissa (a UVa Alum) and Petr (from the Czech Republic), The night before we had met another UVa student (kind of), as well as a friend of ours today who just graduated from UVa. Strange coincidences. Last night we dined at a fancy restaurant because all of the other restaurants were closed by the time we left the hostel. This week is a giant party in anticipation of Independence Day on Tuesday, so most of the inexpensive places close so their owners can go party.
Overall, Antigua is a really cool city with old cobblestone streets, cathedrals, fountains, and a palace. Most of it was destroyed in the earthquake of 1673 and subsequent earthquakes (the town gets destroyed about every 50 years) and it has never been fully rebuilt. Thus, most of it still lies in ruins and it is unlikely it will ever return to its former glory as the capital of Central America. It is mostly a tourist town now, though this week many Guatemalans have flooded into the town for the Independence day celebrations. It is crazy to see more Guatemalan tourists than gringos, as this is not usually the case. Tomorrow we head off for Lago de Atitlan, a lake in the mountains with various small towns dotted around its shores.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
And off we go!
We've spent the last nine days or so hanging out in Los Gatos, CA with Greg and Cesca...and it has been glorious! After weeks of moving around, it was a nice change to sleep on the same futon for a solid week and a half.
Some of you may be wondering why we stayed there for a week and a half, and why this entry isn't about Guatemala...well, good ol' Spirit Airlines decided that they would no longer fly to LAX to Guatemala City on Tuesdays, and thus we were obliged to spend some more quality time with Greg and Cesca, which ended up working out for the best anyhow. We had a blast!
Highlights include:
- Taking the dogs, Maddy and Cooper, for walks in the Redwoods daily-ish
- spending the day in San Francisco, including a hike up to Coit Tower (soooo many stairs!), browsing in the City Lights Bookshop, and a visit to the legendary Boudin bakery for sourdough bread
- Watching sea lions fight!
- watching Greg try to figure out how to use a public bathroom and giving up when he couldn't find the door (to be fair, none of us could either)
Friday night, we went to our friend Brandon Padilla's new house in Santa Cruz. There, we met up with our friends Dave and Erin, who have recently moved from Charlottesville to Berkeley. We had a great time seeing all of our friends again and hopefully Brandon can show Greg around his new campus sometime. Later in the evening, we went to a taqueria down the road and munched on some Mexican food, which is prevalent throughout the area. We awoke early the next morning because Greg and Cesca wanted to get home and check on the dogs. We immediately went back to sleep for several hours when we got home. Sometime after noon, we woke and had a lazy day. Greg had work from noon to 5 (not actually, but he had believed this was the case and so he showed up to tutor at the wrong time), so Stew and Cesca watched bad movies until Tori awoke later in the day.
We all met up with Brandon, Dave, and Erin at a place called Panther Cove, famous for a pirate who once took harbor there from the Feds with a cargo of stolen jungle cats which then escaped, smoked their former master in cruel revenge, and have been the main form of law in Santa Cruz ever since. At least, that is the legend in the parts, where various aspects seem to remain common wisdom. Specifically, it seems that everyone at the beach believed it was necessary to constantly be smoking marijuana (presumably to avoid the jungle cats known to prowl the region).
The beach looks like a post card or a beer commercial. You have to stop at an unmarked dirt parking lot along a highway, climb down a steep and rocky cliff, walk through a giant rock arch, and eventually emerge onto a gorgeous white sand beach, where people fly their kites high. Erin reported one of the kites had broken loose and run rampant along the beach before climbing above the cliffs and out of sight. We walked down the beach aways and across a land bridge to a giant rock in the middle of the cove. Brandon knew of a cave on the opposite site (looking toward the ocean) of the rock, so we climbed dangerously up to it. The climb would have been fairly easy in normal conditions, but the crashing waves and gusting wind combined with our flip flopped feet made for a treacherous venture. Despite all of our nailbiting, we got up to the cave. It was awesome and a truly fascinating place. It is the only place in the world where wind is generated from rock, so even though we were surrounded on three faces, we still were getting sand hurtled at us from all directions. It is like the mystery spot but free.
We returned to Brandon's house where we met up with Greg and Nikki (Brandon's roommate) and then went out for dinner at a local brewery. The food could not come soon enough, as we were all famished. Stew and Greg ate their food like they were preparing to play shark extras in Jaws 7: Feeding Frenzy. Dave noticed a friend from Charlottesville at the bar. Totally crazy coincidence. No one would drink Oatmeal Stouts with Stew, so he dejectedly decided to be the DD (Greg: "The only people that can drink a pitcher of an Oatmeal stout are giant bearded men. Tori and Cesca aren't going to want to share it with you.") After dinner, we went home and went to sleep early, because we had big plans for the next day.
On Sunday, we went to a party with Stew's friend from Semester at Sea: Tucker Heiner. The party was near where Greg and Cesca will be moving in San Jose (sort of ). There was a keg and a cook out, which made for a great time. Team Pollock + Tori owned all opposition in a spirited game of Bocce. Unfortuantely, we had to get home to check on the dogs before we could transfer our prowess to the other retirement style game offered: shuffle board. Surely we have missed our calling. Or maybe, we're just getting a head start on being old. Watch out Grandma: we're coming.
The next day we spent lazing around the house, preparing stuff to go, playing with the dog, and nursing back to health. Stew got an eye infection and didn't want to leave the house. Unfortunately, on Tuesday, Cesca had to go back to work. Tori woke up with an eye infection but Stew was better. We could not put off errands any more and ran around Capitola figuring out last minute logistics while Greg taught English to a 12th grader down the road. This is so weird it ought to be discussed. Greg works for "The Merit Academy" as a private tutor. One of his students receives all of her education from the academy. She does not go to any school, but she is not homeschooled either. Greg will teach all of her english for the year. But he has no material and no qualifications as full time teacher. Instead, her entire English class is writing college applications, which Greg proof reads and teaches her how to write better. Something about the idea of being homeschool tutored with no curriculum seems weird. But then again, it is incredibly practical if you think about it: The point of high school is to get into college. This will get her into college. Therefore, this fulfills the role of high school. One could contend it doesn't prepare you for college but let's be honest: no one learns to write in high school.
We woke up today (Wednesday) and got on a long boring bus to LA (again), where we met up with Randi and Chris Rose, who are friends of Tori's parents. They have been wonderful hosts and took us out to dinner and offered us an amazing bed to sleep in. We also got to play with their dog, Betty. Tomorrow we get on a plane to Guatemala. W00t
Some of you may be wondering why we stayed there for a week and a half, and why this entry isn't about Guatemala...well, good ol' Spirit Airlines decided that they would no longer fly to LAX to Guatemala City on Tuesdays, and thus we were obliged to spend some more quality time with Greg and Cesca, which ended up working out for the best anyhow. We had a blast!
Highlights include:
- Taking the dogs, Maddy and Cooper, for walks in the Redwoods daily-ish
- spending the day in San Francisco, including a hike up to Coit Tower (soooo many stairs!), browsing in the City Lights Bookshop, and a visit to the legendary Boudin bakery for sourdough bread
- Watching sea lions fight!
- watching Greg try to figure out how to use a public bathroom and giving up when he couldn't find the door (to be fair, none of us could either)
Friday night, we went to our friend Brandon Padilla's new house in Santa Cruz. There, we met up with our friends Dave and Erin, who have recently moved from Charlottesville to Berkeley. We had a great time seeing all of our friends again and hopefully Brandon can show Greg around his new campus sometime. Later in the evening, we went to a taqueria down the road and munched on some Mexican food, which is prevalent throughout the area. We awoke early the next morning because Greg and Cesca wanted to get home and check on the dogs. We immediately went back to sleep for several hours when we got home. Sometime after noon, we woke and had a lazy day. Greg had work from noon to 5 (not actually, but he had believed this was the case and so he showed up to tutor at the wrong time), so Stew and Cesca watched bad movies until Tori awoke later in the day.
We all met up with Brandon, Dave, and Erin at a place called Panther Cove, famous for a pirate who once took harbor there from the Feds with a cargo of stolen jungle cats which then escaped, smoked their former master in cruel revenge, and have been the main form of law in Santa Cruz ever since. At least, that is the legend in the parts, where various aspects seem to remain common wisdom. Specifically, it seems that everyone at the beach believed it was necessary to constantly be smoking marijuana (presumably to avoid the jungle cats known to prowl the region).
The beach looks like a post card or a beer commercial. You have to stop at an unmarked dirt parking lot along a highway, climb down a steep and rocky cliff, walk through a giant rock arch, and eventually emerge onto a gorgeous white sand beach, where people fly their kites high. Erin reported one of the kites had broken loose and run rampant along the beach before climbing above the cliffs and out of sight. We walked down the beach aways and across a land bridge to a giant rock in the middle of the cove. Brandon knew of a cave on the opposite site (looking toward the ocean) of the rock, so we climbed dangerously up to it. The climb would have been fairly easy in normal conditions, but the crashing waves and gusting wind combined with our flip flopped feet made for a treacherous venture. Despite all of our nailbiting, we got up to the cave. It was awesome and a truly fascinating place. It is the only place in the world where wind is generated from rock, so even though we were surrounded on three faces, we still were getting sand hurtled at us from all directions. It is like the mystery spot but free.
We returned to Brandon's house where we met up with Greg and Nikki (Brandon's roommate) and then went out for dinner at a local brewery. The food could not come soon enough, as we were all famished. Stew and Greg ate their food like they were preparing to play shark extras in Jaws 7: Feeding Frenzy. Dave noticed a friend from Charlottesville at the bar. Totally crazy coincidence. No one would drink Oatmeal Stouts with Stew, so he dejectedly decided to be the DD (Greg: "The only people that can drink a pitcher of an Oatmeal stout are giant bearded men. Tori and Cesca aren't going to want to share it with you.") After dinner, we went home and went to sleep early, because we had big plans for the next day.
On Sunday, we went to a party with Stew's friend from Semester at Sea: Tucker Heiner. The party was near where Greg and Cesca will be moving in San Jose (sort of ). There was a keg and a cook out, which made for a great time. Team Pollock + Tori owned all opposition in a spirited game of Bocce. Unfortuantely, we had to get home to check on the dogs before we could transfer our prowess to the other retirement style game offered: shuffle board. Surely we have missed our calling. Or maybe, we're just getting a head start on being old. Watch out Grandma: we're coming.
The next day we spent lazing around the house, preparing stuff to go, playing with the dog, and nursing back to health. Stew got an eye infection and didn't want to leave the house. Unfortunately, on Tuesday, Cesca had to go back to work. Tori woke up with an eye infection but Stew was better. We could not put off errands any more and ran around Capitola figuring out last minute logistics while Greg taught English to a 12th grader down the road. This is so weird it ought to be discussed. Greg works for "The Merit Academy" as a private tutor. One of his students receives all of her education from the academy. She does not go to any school, but she is not homeschooled either. Greg will teach all of her english for the year. But he has no material and no qualifications as full time teacher. Instead, her entire English class is writing college applications, which Greg proof reads and teaches her how to write better. Something about the idea of being homeschool tutored with no curriculum seems weird. But then again, it is incredibly practical if you think about it: The point of high school is to get into college. This will get her into college. Therefore, this fulfills the role of high school. One could contend it doesn't prepare you for college but let's be honest: no one learns to write in high school.
We woke up today (Wednesday) and got on a long boring bus to LA (again), where we met up with Randi and Chris Rose, who are friends of Tori's parents. They have been wonderful hosts and took us out to dinner and offered us an amazing bed to sleep in. We also got to play with their dog, Betty. Tomorrow we get on a plane to Guatemala. W00t
Thursday, September 3, 2009
California love
California is like Oprah: Big and Beautiful
We left Jamie’s house early Monday morning. It’s gotten a lot easier to wake up at 9 a.m. the further west we go. We were excited to see Greg, Cesca, and their dogs and wanted to hit the road quickly. On our way to the highway, we passed Hollywood Boulevard and stopped for some pictures with all of the stars in the sidewalk. We came across Chuck Norris, Donna Summers, Levar Burton, all of the Barrymores, Godzilla, Michael Jackson, David Carradine, and many others. There were also struggling actors posing as famous characters in order to make a couple bucks through tips. It was all pretty surreal. Most surreal was Michael Jackson’s, which was covered in candles and flowers. That was fairly understandable, but the heat had melted the candles and covered the star in a creepy red flowery wax goo.
The drive to the highway was awful and we sat in stop and go traffic for about an hour before we managed to get anywhere. In California, and possibly other places, motorcycles are allowed to drive between cars during gridlock. This would seem to be a huge incentive to ride a motorcycle, especially in conjunction with California’s ridiculous gas prices….except that in that traffic, we were shocked that the motorcyclists made it out alive. LA also has an inconvenient conception of an HOV lane. The HOV lane is separated from the other lanes and you cannot merge from one to the other except at various designated points. While it is nice to not have to deal with people merging in and out of the lane, it makes it incredibly difficult to merge back in with the rest of the traffic. Thus, if you want to get off at your exit, you have to traverse a strip of broken asphalt and merge in with traffic going 90 mph. Thanks for the convenience LA! Almost as conveniently irritating are California’s version of gas station. As if the obscene prices weren’t a sufficiently low blow, the gas stations apparently cannot afford to have a credit card machine at each pump. Thus, you have to walk up to an independently standing machine and insert your card while typing your pump number. In order to use this feature, you are charged a convenience fee. Thanks California gas stations. I enjoy paying extra fees and I appreciate your willingness to oblige me. Next time, though, you should really put a toll on the way out of the gas station, if you want to be as convenient as Oklahoma.
Practically everyone we spoke to advised us to take the scenic route up Highway One (the Pacific Coastal Highway), even though it makes the trip a little longer. We figured two extra hours was no big deal after all the driving we’d done to get out here. It was worth it - view was diverse and beautiful. We saw luscious fields of grapes, miles of coastline and beaches, rolling brown hills, and a wonderful In-N-Out Burger. Our GPS calls it “In North Out Burger,” much like it calls all abbreviated “streets” “saints.” In-N-Out burger is awesome. Order your food “Animal Style” and it comes with extra toppings, including a sauce composed of red stuff, white stuff, and onions. MMMM. We passed through Castroville, known as the Artichoke Center of the World. Stew slowed down just enough for Tori to take a picture of the giant artichoke!
We had made such good time on the drive up that Greg and Cesca weren’t even home yet and we had to meet up with them at a coffee shop. They were meeting with their real estate agent, Monica, in hopes of buying a house soon. We’re both super excited for them. Even though they’re looking for a house to buy, their current rental cottage (or apartment above a garage depending on semantics), is great. It is located right off highway 17, down a long country road through a redwood forest. Even with the exhaustion of an eight hour drive, we were thrilled to see Greg, Cesca, Maddy and Cooper. We ate dinner outside on their patio and relaxed while watching a movie, because Cesca has work every morning and has to leave the house by 7 a.m. She’s a 2nd and 3rd grade teacher, so it’s pretty crucial that she shows up on time!
The next day, Greg took us on a tour of Santa Cruz, the pier (sea lions!), UC SC campus, drove through down town, and visited Trader Joe’s. We made lasagna for our hosts, in appreciation for their generosity in putting us up for the week. Another easy night and we all fell asleep early, exhausted from a long day of site seeing in Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz is an absolutely amazing city. It has big forests and trees, mountains, long white sand beaches, sea lions, a relaxed liberal atmosphere without some of the superficiality, uniform ideology, and ironic competitive “chill-ness” which can detract from an otherwise idyllic environment. We got to put our feet in the ocean, thereby signifying that we had truly crossed the country, from sea to sea. Technically, we only went “to sea,” and not the full “sea to sea,” but there was no way we were going to go out of our way to visit Virginia beach. We were in the best parts of Virginia, however, which are definitely not the beach.
The following day we went on a tour of San Francisco with Greg. We parked at Fisherman’s Wharf and walked down the pier to see a massive group of sea lions doing silly things. Stew took an extended video of sea lions wrestling. They look like Maddy, Greg and Cesca’s pit bull/rotweiler mix. We walked through the financial district to try to see the original official “mint” built to accommodate the gold boom. It also survived the earthquake/fire of 1908. Tori really wanted to see “City Lights Bookstore,” famed for its involvement with the Beat poets and various poets published through them. Stew was surprised to discover that Bob Dylan also hung out, which he discovered when he saw a bunch of photos of Dylan, Alan Ginsberg and co hanging out in the basement. We returned to the car after another exhausting hike (we accidentally came out 32 blocks from our car when we got back down to the pier) and drove home tiredly. Cesca was done with all her work when we got home and we watched Futurama, Greg’s movie, and our friend Alex Campbell’s film project “The Plague.” All were very enjoyable. While it is often confused for Timmy the Tooth’s famed mid nineties expose on tooth decay entitled “The Plaque,” Campbell’s film provides an interesting look at the terrifying possibility of a zombie virus epidemic using the vehicle of a faux documentary. We look forward to seeing all of Alex’s future productions. Hopefully Alex and Stew’s joint production, Resurrection, will be finished by this weekend.
Today we found out that our flight had been changed to this Sunday, rather than Tuesday. We had to change it to Thursday in order to still have time to meet up with some of our friends and get to really spend some quality time with Cesca (she’s been so busy with work that we almost never get to see her). So we delayed our trip to Guatemala for a couple days, but we think it is for the best. Two days, after all, is immaterial in the grand scheme of our nearly year longjourney. The errands today were not very exciting, but Greg had is first day of work at a Christian boarding school tutoring a kid in writing. Right now we’re making dinner for Greg and Cesca using a recipe for taco salad that Jamie taught us. Stew’s prior recipe was slightly less formal: make a burrito. Poorly. Mash everything in frustration and douse in hot sauce. The new one uses Fritos and forgoes the frustrating tortilla. This should be impossible screw up. Tomorrow we’re going to try to meet up with our friend Brandon Padilla who goes to UC Santa Cruz and hopefully go to a dog beach with Cooper and Maddy. Afterwards, we will finally get to party with Cesca. Yippeee!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
failed to post
note: pictures to follow shortly...when we find the camera in Greg's car
Wednesday night in Park City was awesome! We met up with Tori’s cousins, Justin and Alexis, their daughter Lucy, and Alexis’s parents Aldonna and Bob. We got to hang out at Justin and Alexis’s house and use their wireless internet to our hearts’ content, which was totally thrilling. Their house, by the way, is quite possibly the loveliest house we’ve had the opportunity to hang out at thus far. It’s a rustic yet elegant Southwestern beauty, replete with a sunny new addition and bountiful garden. We were very impressed by the large crops of potatoes, kale, lettuce, herbs and even raspberries (!) they had cultivated under the hot Utah sun.
Alexis prepared a beautiful picnic lunch for us: pesto, tomato, salmon (chicken for stew) and bleu cheese sandwiches, plus even more yummy ingredients that made our tummies sing with anticipation. These glorious sandwiches were accompanied by kale and red potato salad, both fresh from Justin and Alexis’s garden. It was incredibly refreshing to eat such fresh and delicious food after days of dehydrated and/or processed crud. Tori almost about decided she wasn’t going any further on this road trip, but was going to stay in Park City forever!
That night we went to see the Detonators, a local Park City band, play for free at Deer Valley ski resort. It was a very cute scene, made all the more fun by little Lucy and her playmates, who ran all over the hill playing gleefully. Totally adorable. Of course, watching bedraggled parents scramble after their curious children was equally entertaining. We got to meet Justin and Alexis’s playgroup parent friends, which was a new and different experience for us. I guess after you have college friends and work friends, you have playgroup friends. Weird. After the show it was back to Justin and Lex’s for a few glasses of wine and stimulating conversation, then to bed.
The drive from Park City to St.George, UT was fairly uneventful. We tried to stop at a Sonic to get some grilled cheese sandwiches and tater tots, advertised for $1.99 on a billboard. Unfortunately, we could not find the restaurant (it was 4 miles down a main strip of stop lights) so we gave up and went to Taco Time. Taco Time rules, so it wasn’t a very hard decision. Turns out Taco Time isn’t only in Wyoming, but is a chain all over the West Coast. This Taco Time visit included the first time that we encountered Rica Horchata, a rice/cinnamon drink served at a soda fountain that tastes like a milkshake. After several scorching hours later, we arrived in St. George where we struggled to find our campsite. The city has expanded explosively in the last 10 years and some hotels are about the same price as the campground....but they also look like the kind of hotels that make you want to camp.
Eventually, we found the park amidst a plethora of spas, all seemingly owned by the same company given that they had the exact same font on their signs. Not very sneaky, Red Mountain Spa and Red Spring Spa: We’re on to you. The campground now has some lame rules about climbing on rocks because too many people have been injured in the last 10 years and it is too much of a liability, which we think is a total bummer. We found the site Stew stayed in 10 years ago, but opted for a very remote spot instead. The site was $16, which we thought was a little bit expensive. That night we went for a hike down “Hidden Pinyon,” and saw some beautiful rock formations, as well as a bunch of lizards, birds, and a few bunnies. We returned to our campsite, ate some cold pasta salad, drank margaritas, and went to sleep.
We awoke early the next morning, baking in the hot desert sun. We had both thrown off our sleeping bags in a desperate attempt to prevent overheating, but eventually we just woke up in order to get out of our sauna of a tent. The park ranger advised us to go on a hike called “Petrified Dunes” and alleged that it looked like the famous “Wave” formation of a nearby park. It didn’t look like the Wave, but it did look like petrified dunes. You can see the pictures: they are quite breathtaking. We also climbed around on the rocks around our campsite illegally, just enough to stick it to the man. When we were done hiking, we showered, ate another meal of cold pasta salad, and got in the car. Both of us were really cranky and nauseas. After a while of fighting, we realized neither of us had had water in almost a day and that we were just incredibly dehydrated. After splitting a gallon of water, we felt much better.
The drive to the Grand Canyon took a lot longer than we anticipated, largely due to errors in navigation. We spent an extra half hour driving, but we got to drive on a cliff overlooking a gorgeous series of lakes. All of the towns looked like they sucked. Upon returning through them the next day, this hypothesis was confirmed ($65 for an oil change?!?). Somewhat hilariously, the lawyers office, sheriffs office, and gas station were all the same building in Fredonia. This is opposite the rather elaborate complex of some Indian Pottery Barn, where they claim “Not made in China.” This claim is made on a sign that has been pasted on top of a previous claim (apparently no longer true) “Made in America.” WTF, Fredonia. WTF.
The rest of the drive was through expansive deserts. At one point, we went about 100 miles and saw only one building: a collapsing stable. Then we went up a mountain for along time. The car did not like the steepness of it, and we had to pull off to let RV’s pass us going up hill. This is the definition of emasculation according to Stewart’s dictionary of applied definitions. When we arrived at Kaibab State Park, we talked to the woman at the information station in an attempt to find a way around paying the $25 entrance fee. We found two, but neither seemed ideal, and so decided to pay the seemingly outrageous fee in order to see the North Rim in all its glory. We justified it by eating canned beans for lunch and camping in the National Forest for free. The hikes and overlooks were stunning. When Stew went as a kid, he was not scared at all and thought the view was unimpressive. This time, he learned that he had grown into a scaredy cat and hugged the walls as he walked toward the overlook. The view was unbelievable. You can't even see the bottom of the Grand Canyon at points! By the time we finished tromping around, the $25 fee seemed entirely justified.
We camped by the East Rim of the Grand Canyon. This is a considerably more lush face of the canyon, albeit not nearly as deep or grand. We made a fire and prepared another bowl of bean/ramen/soup/random stuff which weighed heavy in our bellies. It took all our energy to read underneath a tree while the sun set. Unfortunately, we couldn’t sleep well because of some really creepy noises coming from outside our tent. The people just down the road from us had a pair of large dogs which had been running amuck, so we assumed that they were the source of the rustling in the grasses surrounding our tent. However, they did not bark or pant, nor did they scatter when we yelled “Hello?” Whatever was outside our tent was never identified, but led to poor nights sleep. Tori was 100% convinced that all the ghosts of the people who died at the Grand Canyon were marching on parade.
We woke safely, though tired, and immediately hit the road to start on another long haul. We left the Grand Canyon before 9 a.m. and began backtracking toward St. George. The drive was shorter this time, as we travelled mainly downhill and could maintain the speed limit. We got an oil change at Slick Willey’s Lube for just under $40, but it included a super deluxe carwash. The majority of the sand we had accumulated was gone afterwards. We felt cleaner having the outside of the car washed, even if it was filthy on the inside and we still stunk like skunks.
Several hours into the drive, we stopped for lunch in Las Vegas. We tried to get some fresh food at a place called “Farmer Boys,” but it turned out to be overpriced burgers. This did not appeal to our hungry, poor bellies, which craved something natural and fresh. Maria’s Taqueria supplied delicious food at low prices, even if it was not exactly the fresh vegetables and fruit that we were looking for. The woman there (Maria?) gave us some food for free because we told her about our journey. She was initially sad that we were not going to her home country, but then when we told her we were travelling between countries, she told us we should not, under any terms, go to southern Mexico. Mexicans, it seems, generally advise people not to go to Mexico (except for a few areas) right now. They seem almost enthusiastically discouraging about it: Don’t go to Mexico now; it is usually beautiful but right now you will see only violence. Wait until it gets better. Tori informs me that the reason Mexico is in such dire straits (unfortunately I am not referring to anyone’s colored TV, microwave, or refrigerator) is due to the current government’s campaign to stop drug cartels. It seems that Mexico is only a good place to visit as long as the government cooperates with the drug cartels and pay offs continue to maintain the peace, even if they are done illegally.
The drive from Vegas to LA is hot. How hot? Hotter than air conditioning can account for. Here’s a little demonstration of how %&$*(#( the Mojave Desert is:
In St. George, Tori guessed the temperature to be 90 degrees Fahrenheit. It was 102 degree F. We were basically fine outside, walking around.
In the Mojave desert, we had A/C, were just sitting in the car, dripping sweat, and were incredibly hot. At one point, a thermometer informed us it was 112 degrees. I assume Celsius.
We thought people drove crazy on 495 around D.C. LA redefines crazy driving. Words cannot describe the frenzied tornado of metal, oil, and Mustang that is “The Ten.” I guess I just did describe it. Sweet. (On a side note, what is up with the use of definite articles in place of the noun for describing roads in LA? IE Highway 10=The Ten, Route 101= The 101. Ponder this, my friends.)
When we arrived in LA, we met up with Stew’s friend from his Peru study abroad program, Jamie. She has a beautiful apartment a block of Sunset Ave in the so called “Rock and Roll” part of “Boys Town.” Seriously, even the Thai restaurant is rock and roll themed. There was also a clothing store called “Pop Killers,” which featured a hat identical to one we saw at the World’s Largest Prairie Dog tourist trap. It was ironic and fashionable at one, but not the other. Interesting how that plays out. We went out for dinner at a straight forward Thai restaurant that was delicious and reasonably priced. Stew and Tori also experienced sake for the first time, at Jamie’s behest. We expected the worst, given the reviews generally given and its reputation as a shot, rather than a beverage. It was rather pleasant, actually, though not a particularly complex flavor. After dinner, we retired to Jamie’s apartment where we relaxed in the pool and hot tub before eventually painting a picture together and calling it a night.
The next morning we went on a hike up Runyon’s Canyon, the thing to do if you like the outdoors and are in LA. Jamie told us that she has seen many celebrities on this surprisingly remote hike, located right in the middle of the city. This include Quentin Tarantino, Nicole Richie, and Kevin Bacon. Basically, you walk up hill from Jamie’s house until to get to the house where they filmed “Entourage,” and then turn right. Nifty. We returned to Jamie’s after the exhausting hike, which we believe was made considerably more difficult by the proximity to the massive fire and smoke clouds just over the hill. We showered and went to a grocery store affectionately referred to as “Rock and Roll Ralph’s.” It is our belief that this is the same as Kroger on the East Coast. We purchased sandwiches and ingredients for dinner.
We spent the afternoon relaxing by the pool and meeting Jamie’s neighbors, who evidently throw a party on the roof/pool deck every Saturday and Sunday. One turned out to be from Yorktown, VA, also known as “The Place Where We Won the War.” They were all very welcoming and one man (Eddie?) gave us a drink he had made from freshly juiced watermelons and cantaloupes (and lots of vodka). When the evening came, it was time for us to head out to the “El Rey Theatre,” where we were going to see Dredg and RX Bandits. Jamie knew the former band from about 8 years ago when they first got signed and were recording a record near her home in Palm Desert, so she was really excited to see them again. Stew just loves a punk show, and was stoked to go dance around like a 12 year old high on pixie sticks and Mountain Dew. The show was great, though there were truly a hilarious number of punkers taking videos of the mosh pit with I-Phones. Another memorable moment came when someone shushed the audience. WhuH? After the show, we made taco salad. It was awesome.
Thanks so much to Jamie for being such a gracious, welcoming, and amazing hostess! Thanks to Jamie, we had a totally rad time in LA. Not only are Stew and Tori finally up on the cool lingo, hot fashion items, and sweetest things to do, we think LA is a great town and want to go back. Shocker, huh?
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