With only one day of the trip left after my last entry, you'd think I'd be running a little low on material. Thank heavens for Continental Airlines, who consistently find a way to imbue my blog with the sort of vomit-inducing, roller coaster excitement one would usually assume is best avoided on intercontinental plane journeys.
But before that, the last day. The last day happened, of that I am certain, but not a lot happened in it. There was the breakfast bitch (don't ask), a long journey on yet another crowded bus (though mercifully not of the chicken breed) and the last night of alcohol-related destruction and love quadrangles. Those involved in either or both know to whom I am referring. I'm too polite to gossip. (Those aware of how much of a lie that was can stop their guffawing right now.)
And so the following day the group made like a moldy, decaying bath sponge, and gradually separated. I left at midday for the airport, supposedly to arrive home for 2.05pm the next day. Continental Airlines however, in a bout of prescient generosity, thought that a final blog entry of a mere three paragraphs would be unfortunate in the extreme, and kindly decided to make my final journey interesting.
The problems started when I was informed that my flight from San Jose to Houston was delayed three hours. As I had less than three hours between the original landing time and my flight from Houston to London, I was obviously going to miss my last flight home. At the point this became clear during check-in I was handed a boarding pass for a new flight to London the following day, and was told to expect someone from Continental to find me once the plane landed at Houston to arrange for me to placed in a hotel for the night. That was annoying, but at least it was simple. I would have been home a day later, but I knew where I stood.
There I was waiting at San Jose airport, gate 16, when I was called over to the desk. The same woman who checked me in was standing there, and told me that the flight was still late, but not quite as late as they originally thought. Supposedly I would have one hour to catch my next flight and this, she assured me, was doable, adding 'all flights from Houston are delayed'. In light of this, she had arranged for my luggage to be transferred and printed me a new boarding pass for my original flight, which included a green sticker with a 'T' on it, the lack of which so almost screwed me over the first time.
Having been through Houston once and finding it surprisingly quick I was cautiously optimistic, but then I had also heard horror stories about the same airport and insistences on my good fortune in avoiding such dramas. An hour, I thought, was doable. However as the plane left San Jose the time of arrival had been revised again, leaving me with just twenty five minutes! I sat nervously, waiting until one hour before our supposed landing time before I started asking the cabin crew what on Earth I should do, and whether I could be sped through the airport.
I was told that 'usually' they'll arrange for such persons in my position to be taken aside and escorted to the next plane, because 'they know' who's in such a predicament. Do you think I received such a service? Of course not. However I was moved as far forward on the plane as I could be without actually stepping into first class territory, and when it landed I had in fact forty five minutes before the plane was due to depart. I tried to avoid thinking about how long before this time the gate would be shut.
I can safely say one thing: nobody in the history of the world has been through an airport quicker than I bolted through Houston. I managed it in thirty minutes, running like a madman, occasionally in the wrong direction. I want to ask the following question: having been through the USA six weeks earlier, was it really necessary to take my picture and fingerprints again? I mean I understand I might have a new haircut, but new fingers? Come on! The USA is security mad. Possibly just mad.
With the gate about to shut I made it to my seat, sweaty and feeling like I was about to throw up. It must have been a very unpleasant experience for the poor guy sitting next to me. I'm sorry, but at least I made it. Half an hour, not bad at all! If only my luggage could have moved as quickly. That's right, my bag got left at Houston, as if to punish me for scuppering its plans to get lost the first time. At least they know where it is though.
And so my children, that is the end. Or is it? I intend to keep this blog going, though what shall make up its contents remains to be seen. As my good friend Ben recently observed, 'You can keep on blogging you know, it just won't be as interesting'. The man has at least half a point. I shall indeed continue to blog, and damn hell it shall be interesting!
For now I am going to continue to sit at home on the promise from Continental that my luggage will arrive here today, though that remains to be seen. That's probably for the best; it's good to end on a cliffhanger...
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Every cloud has a silver zip-lining
You can all consider yourselves warned after this. Never, ever, under any circumstances, not even if your life depended on it, not even if there were a pot of gold, irresistible kitten or lifetime supply of snickers bars on the other side, never attempt to cross the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border by foot. Well OK, perhaps that is an overreaction. You can do it, just set aside about half a day or so. The problem lies with the Costa Rica immigration/emigration procedure. Here is the procedure: A large queue is formed for people wishing to enter the country. A second large queue is formed for people aspiring to leave the country. The first queue is funnelled into a very small office. The same small office also receives the second queue. And in the middle, where these two marches meet and exchange pleasantries regarding their forthcoming/recently terminated stay in Costa Rica, is a bank.
This must surely be the most inconveniently located bank in the world, unless there happens to be an HSBC teetering atop Mount Everest. And what this means, for those that haven`t realised it already, is that there is in fact a third queue for people intent on visiting the bank. And for the really cunning, what would be a nifty way of skipping the immigration queue which takes a good couple of hours? Well of course, you make like you`re simply going to the bank, secretly - or not, as it turned out - concealing your passport beneath your jacket. It`s utter madness.
With that ordeal out of the way however, we continued our journey to Monteverde, a town high up in the mountains and accessible only via dirt roads because the town is too afraid of the increased numbers of already numerous tourists that paving the roads might bring. However I`m about to piss them off immensely, as I recommend that you all go. If nothing else, the drive up to the top is worth the effort alone. And there`s plenty to do once you're there, such as exploring the cloud forest. Via a zip-line.
This will surely go down as one of the highlights of my trip. We first spent a couple of hours being led through part of the forest by a guide, who explained the myriad flora and fauna and took us over suspension bridges spanning vast expanses of forest below. Following that was the canopy tour, which essentially involved zip-lining through the trees over increasingly large distances, to the point where we actually crossed from one mountain to the other, sailing through the clouds. It was such an incredible experience I was worried I was becoming so distracted by the view that I wouldn't`t see the end-of-line tree hurtling towards me. Of course by the end, the rain meant that I literally could not see the tree coming towards me. Well, not until I was almost a part of it. Do you have any idea how much harder it is to brake in the rain? Fear not however, I managed. Others were not so fortunate.
Yesterday we left Monteverde for La Fortuna. And to be honest, not much else happened for myself that day, who elected to do very little rather than go to the hot springs - and I maintain that the three hour afternoon nap was entirely worth the sacrifice. Today was really the last day for doing something big, as tomorrow we travel to San Jose and then the following day it`s trip over. And so I am delighted to report that today was spent very wisely indeed: white-water rafting is terrific fun. It`s especially fun when half of your fellow rafters fall out, and you are not one of them. Even more so when the only reason that two particular people were removed was because of a third person hurtling towards them.
And essentially, that`s pretty much it. There shall be at least be one more post about this holiday, but the end is very much in sight. Personally, I`m starting to formulate a plan to be executed upon my return. The question you should be asking yourselves is what on Earth will you read when this blog is over? Don`t panic just yet though, there`s still a couple of days to go.
This must surely be the most inconveniently located bank in the world, unless there happens to be an HSBC teetering atop Mount Everest. And what this means, for those that haven`t realised it already, is that there is in fact a third queue for people intent on visiting the bank. And for the really cunning, what would be a nifty way of skipping the immigration queue which takes a good couple of hours? Well of course, you make like you`re simply going to the bank, secretly - or not, as it turned out - concealing your passport beneath your jacket. It`s utter madness.
With that ordeal out of the way however, we continued our journey to Monteverde, a town high up in the mountains and accessible only via dirt roads because the town is too afraid of the increased numbers of already numerous tourists that paving the roads might bring. However I`m about to piss them off immensely, as I recommend that you all go. If nothing else, the drive up to the top is worth the effort alone. And there`s plenty to do once you're there, such as exploring the cloud forest. Via a zip-line.
This will surely go down as one of the highlights of my trip. We first spent a couple of hours being led through part of the forest by a guide, who explained the myriad flora and fauna and took us over suspension bridges spanning vast expanses of forest below. Following that was the canopy tour, which essentially involved zip-lining through the trees over increasingly large distances, to the point where we actually crossed from one mountain to the other, sailing through the clouds. It was such an incredible experience I was worried I was becoming so distracted by the view that I wouldn't`t see the end-of-line tree hurtling towards me. Of course by the end, the rain meant that I literally could not see the tree coming towards me. Well, not until I was almost a part of it. Do you have any idea how much harder it is to brake in the rain? Fear not however, I managed. Others were not so fortunate.
Yesterday we left Monteverde for La Fortuna. And to be honest, not much else happened for myself that day, who elected to do very little rather than go to the hot springs - and I maintain that the three hour afternoon nap was entirely worth the sacrifice. Today was really the last day for doing something big, as tomorrow we travel to San Jose and then the following day it`s trip over. And so I am delighted to report that today was spent very wisely indeed: white-water rafting is terrific fun. It`s especially fun when half of your fellow rafters fall out, and you are not one of them. Even more so when the only reason that two particular people were removed was because of a third person hurtling towards them.
And essentially, that`s pretty much it. There shall be at least be one more post about this holiday, but the end is very much in sight. Personally, I`m starting to formulate a plan to be executed upon my return. The question you should be asking yourselves is what on Earth will you read when this blog is over? Don`t panic just yet though, there`s still a couple of days to go.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Rainy season
Once again I find myself in the position of having passed through a whole other country between blog posts. However I am happy to say that, unlike last time, I quite enjoyed this one.
Our first stop in Nicaragua was Granada, where mammoth LCD screens in the town centre display an infinite loop of Coronation Street reruns. Being the third Spanish colonial town of its kind that we have visited, I was beginning to notice a pattern: the streets are as a grid, and if followed to the centre one will find a park, with a fountain, next to a cathedral. This is not a bad blueprint by any means.
Aside from a brief visit to a nearby market I personally spent my time wandering around the town, and sampling the delights of the Chocolate Cafe which, I´m disappointed to inform, only serves chocolate based products and is not in fact made of chocolate itself. Granada is a town which I´m sure is worth spending more time in, but of course that´s just not the way we roll; after barely two days, we moved on to Ometepe.
Ometepe is an island in the middle of a lake, with two dormant volcanoes. One of the activities it is possible for one to participate in is climbing one of these volcanoes. At this point, I should mention that May is officially the start of the rainy season in this part of the world. It took a few weeks, but ever since Utila there has been some kind of terrific downpour every day, usually at night. The rest of the time it is of course still hot and humid. But obviously Thor was feeling particularly humorous/vindictive at 6am that day, and created a lovely thunderstorm just at the point at which we started the drive to the volcano. We waited it out for a while, and it did actually stop. Then we climbed, and it started again.
I remember that whilst we were waiting to go up Guy said to me that he hoped it wouldn´t get any wetter. To which I replied, how could it possibly get any wetter? So in a way, it`s kind of my fault. We made it about halfway up before the slippery ground and tropical storm convinced us to turn back. And you know, I´m pretty damn sure that in descending we crossed a river that wasn´t there on the way up. We returned all as drowned rats, and with ruined everything.
I sit now in Costa Rica with more to tell, but without the time. More posting shall be forthcoming. For now though, I am going to take the opportunity to wish a public happy birthday to my dad. Happy birthday! Your present is that I´m going to be home soon. I bet you can´t wait.
Our first stop in Nicaragua was Granada, where mammoth LCD screens in the town centre display an infinite loop of Coronation Street reruns. Being the third Spanish colonial town of its kind that we have visited, I was beginning to notice a pattern: the streets are as a grid, and if followed to the centre one will find a park, with a fountain, next to a cathedral. This is not a bad blueprint by any means.
Aside from a brief visit to a nearby market I personally spent my time wandering around the town, and sampling the delights of the Chocolate Cafe which, I´m disappointed to inform, only serves chocolate based products and is not in fact made of chocolate itself. Granada is a town which I´m sure is worth spending more time in, but of course that´s just not the way we roll; after barely two days, we moved on to Ometepe.
Ometepe is an island in the middle of a lake, with two dormant volcanoes. One of the activities it is possible for one to participate in is climbing one of these volcanoes. At this point, I should mention that May is officially the start of the rainy season in this part of the world. It took a few weeks, but ever since Utila there has been some kind of terrific downpour every day, usually at night. The rest of the time it is of course still hot and humid. But obviously Thor was feeling particularly humorous/vindictive at 6am that day, and created a lovely thunderstorm just at the point at which we started the drive to the volcano. We waited it out for a while, and it did actually stop. Then we climbed, and it started again.
I remember that whilst we were waiting to go up Guy said to me that he hoped it wouldn´t get any wetter. To which I replied, how could it possibly get any wetter? So in a way, it`s kind of my fault. We made it about halfway up before the slippery ground and tropical storm convinced us to turn back. And you know, I´m pretty damn sure that in descending we crossed a river that wasn´t there on the way up. We returned all as drowned rats, and with ruined everything.
I sit now in Costa Rica with more to tell, but without the time. More posting shall be forthcoming. For now though, I am going to take the opportunity to wish a public happy birthday to my dad. Happy birthday! Your present is that I´m going to be home soon. I bet you can´t wait.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Honduras
The title should say it all, really. I´m about to do an entire country a huge disservice by glossing over it in but a few short paragraphs. But you know, there really isn´t much to say except, and I´m a little afraid of the retribution that may be forthcoming, my reaction to Honduras has essentially been ´meh´.
This is nothing but a sign of my growing snobbery and familiarity with the once unfamiliar. Honduras is a lovely place, but a combination of only a few days stay in the country and the fact that I´m still pining for Guatemala has left Honduras with an uphill battle to win me over. Copan though was fun; you can´t beat a large selection of parrots, toucans and red vs yellow tuctuc racing through some jungleside streets. The trouble is that in that other town, which I love, one finds it hard to distinguish between the tourism and the lives of the people that actually live there; Antigua´s beauty permeates, and in the majority of cases actually is its day-to-day life. Whereas in Copan, you have some great Mayan ruins, a beautiful exotic bird sanctuary, and a central plaza that looks as if was manufactured in plastic using a case mould and plonked in the middle of this remote little town.
After Copan we set sail for Utila, which is a lovely island famous for its diving opportunities. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Yes, I´m afraid despite its larger size, or perhaps as a consequence of it, after visiting Caye Caulker the island of Utila comes across as a little... bland? (Surely he didn´t just refer to a tropical island with crabs, watersports and an ocean as blue as Blind Willie McTell as ´bland´did he? What an arse!) But it is! The snorkelling opportunities are not as interesting; there is a lot more hustle and I dare say a fair bit more bustle; and there are less places to chill out on an island that is supposedly significantly larger. I apologise to Honduras, but Belize wins the fight for best island in Central America thus far.
So after doing remarkably little on Utila for three days, I find myself in a town for which I do not know the name, and in all honesty I have no desire to find out. We´re only here for one night, because if we weren´t the journey to Nicaragua would be impossibly long. (It has already been seven and a half hours today, and continues tomorrow with a further fourteen hours traversing six different chicken buses!)
And so Honduras, I am sorry. I´m sure that given a bit more time and fewer encounters with fast food chains I would come to admire this country as much as the others. As it is, you have one more night to wow me before it´s too late. I´ll say this though: considering there is only powdered milk on Utila, Mermaids does a pretty decent cup of coffee. For that, you should be applauded.
This is nothing but a sign of my growing snobbery and familiarity with the once unfamiliar. Honduras is a lovely place, but a combination of only a few days stay in the country and the fact that I´m still pining for Guatemala has left Honduras with an uphill battle to win me over. Copan though was fun; you can´t beat a large selection of parrots, toucans and red vs yellow tuctuc racing through some jungleside streets. The trouble is that in that other town, which I love, one finds it hard to distinguish between the tourism and the lives of the people that actually live there; Antigua´s beauty permeates, and in the majority of cases actually is its day-to-day life. Whereas in Copan, you have some great Mayan ruins, a beautiful exotic bird sanctuary, and a central plaza that looks as if was manufactured in plastic using a case mould and plonked in the middle of this remote little town.
After Copan we set sail for Utila, which is a lovely island famous for its diving opportunities. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Yes, I´m afraid despite its larger size, or perhaps as a consequence of it, after visiting Caye Caulker the island of Utila comes across as a little... bland? (Surely he didn´t just refer to a tropical island with crabs, watersports and an ocean as blue as Blind Willie McTell as ´bland´did he? What an arse!) But it is! The snorkelling opportunities are not as interesting; there is a lot more hustle and I dare say a fair bit more bustle; and there are less places to chill out on an island that is supposedly significantly larger. I apologise to Honduras, but Belize wins the fight for best island in Central America thus far.
So after doing remarkably little on Utila for three days, I find myself in a town for which I do not know the name, and in all honesty I have no desire to find out. We´re only here for one night, because if we weren´t the journey to Nicaragua would be impossibly long. (It has already been seven and a half hours today, and continues tomorrow with a further fourteen hours traversing six different chicken buses!)
And so Honduras, I am sorry. I´m sure that given a bit more time and fewer encounters with fast food chains I would come to admire this country as much as the others. As it is, you have one more night to wow me before it´s too late. I´ll say this though: considering there is only powdered milk on Utila, Mermaids does a pretty decent cup of coffee. For that, you should be applauded.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Nuts about Antigua
You know what sucks? Leaving Antigua. Know what sucks even more? Leaving for the third time! People, it doesn´t get any easier. Especially because I knew this time would be the last, meaning a much more permanent goodbye to both a glorious town and a lot of good friends. Still, I am positive I shall return soon, so it´s not actually so bad.
So after my weird Israeli experience on Friday, we returned to Antigua for the weekend on Saturday. Now I knew this weekend was coming, which was what prompted me to buy a phone before I left for the Intrepid trip. I needed a phone to contact my friends with GVI so I could catch up with them. Of course what happened was my phone went crazy on me and decided to switch lines by itself. I don`t even have two lines! But here is yet one more reason why I love Antigua so much: I was on my way to the phone shop to get things fixed, when I bumped into Alison and Ross. "Come with us", they said, "we`re going to a macadamia nut farm". I`m pretty sure that there`s only one place in the world where that could happen.
We made it to the farm after consulting about fifty different bus drivers who through cumulative ignorance actually succeeded in steering us onto the correct bus. At the farm we were given a tour by its founder, who is classified as an eccentric by Lonely Planet, and quite accurately so. He informed us of the good work a macadamia nut tree can do for the environment, because the nuts use a lot of carbon to grow; and for poverty, because give a man a tree... (and apparently macadamia nut-farming is a rich man`s game. It`s a much sought-after nut).
One reason for this is its use in cosmetics. Ladies and gentlemen, if you want to look younger there`s only one thing you need: macadamia nut oil. And trust us, we sampled it. Alison had a nut facial. But as far as I`m concerned, the best thing one can do with those nuts is eat them, and so it was with great enthusiasm that we ordered pancakes that were, apparently, 25% macadamia nut. They were served with blueberry sauce, and are officially the best pancakes ever. I know it`s a long way to travel people, but it`s totally worth it.
Long-term readers of my blog should remember my former GVI housemate, Debra. Well her parents came to visit her for the weekend and with enormous generosity took pretty much everyone related to GVI in Antigua out to dinner on Saturday night. I would like to use this blog to say a very public THANK YOU! Debra, you have very lovely parents.
If you ever wake up in the morning in Antigua and think to yourself, "where would be a good place to eat breakfast", you need only consider the following, single option: Cafe Sky. It`s in the south-east, and features a 360 degree view of the town, and some damn fine banana pancakes (can you see a theme emerging here?). After soaking up the view for a couple of hours on Sunday morning, I went back to the Spanish school to use the internet, and bumped into Raji. Antigua really is a very intimate town. We spent the day mostly in the market, and Raji brought back half of it. I was hoping to go to what I only recently heard was the best coffee joint in town, but they shut before I could get there. Grr. Still, we did mange to visit a church, and have dinner with some of the other GVI folk. And here is my next recommendation: you find Cafe Sky, you find the Italian restaurant next door. They have good stuff.
There is perhaps a theme: disregarding the brief stop over with the Intrepid trip on Wednesday, the last time I left Antigua I did so at four in the morning. Coincidentally keeping with tradition, Sammy told us the group would be leaving for Honduras at four in the morning. And as if saying goodbye to the GVI folk wasn`t enough, this point was the last of one leg of the Intrepid tour, meaning that for some people it was the end. I`ve never had to say goodbye to so many people in so many places. At four in the morning on Monday, we left. I`m sad to have gone, but I know I`ll be back.
And hey, Copan in Honduras is not too shabby. Yesterday we went to a bird sanctuary, which aside from being astoundingly beautiful also saw myself being used as a parrot perch. Some more Mayan ruins followed this morning, before a few of us returned to play with the birds one more time and drink coffee under the trees and amidst the parrots and toucans. Oh and tomorrow we move on to Utila; just a small island paradise. I`m only going to say this one more time, but it`s an important point, dear readers: even with all the exotic birds and beaches in mind, I`d still rather be in Antigua.
So after my weird Israeli experience on Friday, we returned to Antigua for the weekend on Saturday. Now I knew this weekend was coming, which was what prompted me to buy a phone before I left for the Intrepid trip. I needed a phone to contact my friends with GVI so I could catch up with them. Of course what happened was my phone went crazy on me and decided to switch lines by itself. I don`t even have two lines! But here is yet one more reason why I love Antigua so much: I was on my way to the phone shop to get things fixed, when I bumped into Alison and Ross. "Come with us", they said, "we`re going to a macadamia nut farm". I`m pretty sure that there`s only one place in the world where that could happen.
We made it to the farm after consulting about fifty different bus drivers who through cumulative ignorance actually succeeded in steering us onto the correct bus. At the farm we were given a tour by its founder, who is classified as an eccentric by Lonely Planet, and quite accurately so. He informed us of the good work a macadamia nut tree can do for the environment, because the nuts use a lot of carbon to grow; and for poverty, because give a man a tree... (and apparently macadamia nut-farming is a rich man`s game. It`s a much sought-after nut).
One reason for this is its use in cosmetics. Ladies and gentlemen, if you want to look younger there`s only one thing you need: macadamia nut oil. And trust us, we sampled it. Alison had a nut facial. But as far as I`m concerned, the best thing one can do with those nuts is eat them, and so it was with great enthusiasm that we ordered pancakes that were, apparently, 25% macadamia nut. They were served with blueberry sauce, and are officially the best pancakes ever. I know it`s a long way to travel people, but it`s totally worth it.
Long-term readers of my blog should remember my former GVI housemate, Debra. Well her parents came to visit her for the weekend and with enormous generosity took pretty much everyone related to GVI in Antigua out to dinner on Saturday night. I would like to use this blog to say a very public THANK YOU! Debra, you have very lovely parents.
If you ever wake up in the morning in Antigua and think to yourself, "where would be a good place to eat breakfast", you need only consider the following, single option: Cafe Sky. It`s in the south-east, and features a 360 degree view of the town, and some damn fine banana pancakes (can you see a theme emerging here?). After soaking up the view for a couple of hours on Sunday morning, I went back to the Spanish school to use the internet, and bumped into Raji. Antigua really is a very intimate town. We spent the day mostly in the market, and Raji brought back half of it. I was hoping to go to what I only recently heard was the best coffee joint in town, but they shut before I could get there. Grr. Still, we did mange to visit a church, and have dinner with some of the other GVI folk. And here is my next recommendation: you find Cafe Sky, you find the Italian restaurant next door. They have good stuff.
There is perhaps a theme: disregarding the brief stop over with the Intrepid trip on Wednesday, the last time I left Antigua I did so at four in the morning. Coincidentally keeping with tradition, Sammy told us the group would be leaving for Honduras at four in the morning. And as if saying goodbye to the GVI folk wasn`t enough, this point was the last of one leg of the Intrepid tour, meaning that for some people it was the end. I`ve never had to say goodbye to so many people in so many places. At four in the morning on Monday, we left. I`m sad to have gone, but I know I`ll be back.
And hey, Copan in Honduras is not too shabby. Yesterday we went to a bird sanctuary, which aside from being astoundingly beautiful also saw myself being used as a parrot perch. Some more Mayan ruins followed this morning, before a few of us returned to play with the birds one more time and drink coffee under the trees and amidst the parrots and toucans. Oh and tomorrow we move on to Utila; just a small island paradise. I`m only going to say this one more time, but it`s an important point, dear readers: even with all the exotic birds and beaches in mind, I`d still rather be in Antigua.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Frozen chicken
Before we begin, a note to all those who are reading this via facebook: At the top of the facebook page is a link, on a blue and rectangular background, next to a picture of yours truly. If you click that, you´ll be taken to blogger.com, where this blog actually resides. It´s much easier to read there, and the video in the last entry that wasn´t visible on facebook will function as intended.
And so to business. Firstly, I am happy to report that my darting arm has in fact improved. The following day we went to San Jorge, near Lake Aititlan, and stayed with a family in the town. This was a very different experience to my two week homestay in Antigua, as the family were indigenous Mayans, who of course don´t speak Spanish as their first language. Things are much more basic in San Jorge, and the house I was staying in reminded me of the houses in Santa Maria where I was building stoves not long ago. It wasn´t entirely comfortable, but for two nights we coped.
Lake Aititlan is something special, even though not all the towns around it hold the same interest. Panajachel is captivating enough however. We arrived on Thursday having stopped on the way in a market that was almost as big as the town to which we were travelling. You can literally get lost in there for days, though most of the stalls sell the same type of products; a lot of textiles, a lot of jade jewelery. We chilled out in Panajachel for a bit, but that was pretty much it for Thursday. Just as well, because Friday will surely go down as one of the most surreal days of my life.
It began by climbing a rock high atop a mountain, to be greeted by the most spectacular view of the lake and its surrounding towns and volcanoes. Then we had to travel down to Panajachel to get a boat. This is where the trouble started.
I have explained before the perils of the chicken bus, but if you really want to crank it up a notch you should try a combination of standing up for want of a seat; hurtling down the mountainside, hairpin bends and all; overlooking the most beautiful lake you´ve ever seen; and - this is the clincher - with Vanilla Ice´s ´Ice, Ice, Baby´ being blasted from the radio. Without a doubt, that was the best bus journey one could ever have.
But my friends, it gets better. It´s not uncommon to cross paths with people from Israel whilst travelling. Indeed, there was a group of four Israelis sharing the minivan with us on the way back from Tikal. But what you don´t expect is to go to a remote mountainside town, which isn´t really even a particularly interesting place, and find a Star of David on a commercial building. Closer inspection revealed that this place was in fact an opticians, marvellously called Optica Shalom. I looked bewildered, took a picture and passed it off as a bit of cultural borrowing. Surely there were no Jewish people in this unassuming, basic town?
Well I bet you can all see where this is going, but I certainly didn´t at the time. Our guide took us to a restaurant in the same town, San Pedro. This place is the most chilled out eatery you could hope to find. The tables are low; there are big seating areas with cushions, but no chairs; there are board games to play with; fantastic plants; and animals too. This is easily now my favourite restaurant in the world, and would you believe it, it´s owned by Israelis! Furthermore, the food is Israeli. I had shakshuka, there was falafel as well. The place is called, in English letters, ZooLa, which apparently means ´a place to relax´ in Hebrew. And you really can; people just lie down on the cushions and read a book for hours on end. They even have an adjacent hotel.
If that wasn't enough, on returning to Panajachel I heard some Mayan children conversing with some Israelis in Spanish. The children asked, "como se dice 'como se llama'?" (how do you say 'what's your name?'), to which the Israelis replied, "Mah shem shelcha". Hearing that out of the blue really threw me.
I am aware that most of my loyal readers are Jewish. If that doesn´t convince you to come to Guatemala, then I guess nothing will.
And so to business. Firstly, I am happy to report that my darting arm has in fact improved. The following day we went to San Jorge, near Lake Aititlan, and stayed with a family in the town. This was a very different experience to my two week homestay in Antigua, as the family were indigenous Mayans, who of course don´t speak Spanish as their first language. Things are much more basic in San Jorge, and the house I was staying in reminded me of the houses in Santa Maria where I was building stoves not long ago. It wasn´t entirely comfortable, but for two nights we coped.
Lake Aititlan is something special, even though not all the towns around it hold the same interest. Panajachel is captivating enough however. We arrived on Thursday having stopped on the way in a market that was almost as big as the town to which we were travelling. You can literally get lost in there for days, though most of the stalls sell the same type of products; a lot of textiles, a lot of jade jewelery. We chilled out in Panajachel for a bit, but that was pretty much it for Thursday. Just as well, because Friday will surely go down as one of the most surreal days of my life.
It began by climbing a rock high atop a mountain, to be greeted by the most spectacular view of the lake and its surrounding towns and volcanoes. Then we had to travel down to Panajachel to get a boat. This is where the trouble started.
I have explained before the perils of the chicken bus, but if you really want to crank it up a notch you should try a combination of standing up for want of a seat; hurtling down the mountainside, hairpin bends and all; overlooking the most beautiful lake you´ve ever seen; and - this is the clincher - with Vanilla Ice´s ´Ice, Ice, Baby´ being blasted from the radio. Without a doubt, that was the best bus journey one could ever have.
But my friends, it gets better. It´s not uncommon to cross paths with people from Israel whilst travelling. Indeed, there was a group of four Israelis sharing the minivan with us on the way back from Tikal. But what you don´t expect is to go to a remote mountainside town, which isn´t really even a particularly interesting place, and find a Star of David on a commercial building. Closer inspection revealed that this place was in fact an opticians, marvellously called Optica Shalom. I looked bewildered, took a picture and passed it off as a bit of cultural borrowing. Surely there were no Jewish people in this unassuming, basic town?
Well I bet you can all see where this is going, but I certainly didn´t at the time. Our guide took us to a restaurant in the same town, San Pedro. This place is the most chilled out eatery you could hope to find. The tables are low; there are big seating areas with cushions, but no chairs; there are board games to play with; fantastic plants; and animals too. This is easily now my favourite restaurant in the world, and would you believe it, it´s owned by Israelis! Furthermore, the food is Israeli. I had shakshuka, there was falafel as well. The place is called, in English letters, ZooLa, which apparently means ´a place to relax´ in Hebrew. And you really can; people just lie down on the cushions and read a book for hours on end. They even have an adjacent hotel.
If that wasn't enough, on returning to Panajachel I heard some Mayan children conversing with some Israelis in Spanish. The children asked, "como se dice 'como se llama'?" (how do you say 'what's your name?'), to which the Israelis replied, "Mah shem shelcha". Hearing that out of the blue really threw me.
I am aware that most of my loyal readers are Jewish. If that doesn´t convince you to come to Guatemala, then I guess nothing will.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tikal your fancy
I cannot overstate my joy upon reentering Guatemala. I also cannot stress enough my advice that you all come and visit. Soon I would return to Antigua, but first there were a couple of small landmarks to take care of.
We went straight to Flores after crossing the border into Guatemala. Flores itself has a certain charm, and we resided on an island in the middle of the lake which was very lovely indeed. But despite the vista and the wonderful coffee shop we stumbled across, there was really only one reason we stopped by: Tikal.
A long climb up a large pyramid later, and it was clear that our efforts had been rewarded. And if you need some convincing, here´s the proof.
There are all sorts of things both animal and mineral to be found in Tikal. Monkeys, toucans and Mayan temples to name just a few. You can see a few pictures by clicking here. This monkey however is my personal favourite.
After spending the afternoon relaxing in Flores, the next day we moved on to Rio Dulce. In itself the town is nothing special, but we were staying at a little hotel overlooking the lake. Though it was on the mainland, to get to the hotel a small boat ride was needed. Once there, one can drink cocktails at the restaurant and watch the boats go by, chill out in a hammock or just go upstairs and shoot some pool. I´m telling you, all this relaxation was beginning to get to me by that point. So the next day we took a little boat ride, stopping to watch some birds, take a dip in the hot springs and visit the town of Livingstone with its brightly coloured buildings and stunningly delicious iced coffees made with coconut milk.
You may well be wondering what could top all of that, but as far as I´m concerned it was topped this morning when after a very long bus ride, though mercifully in a very comfortable bus, we arrived in Antigua. I was wondering how I would feel when I gazed upon those cobbled streets once more, and whatever feelings I had manifested themselves in a childlike smile and dizzying excitement. What didn´t help however is that we were travelling whilst back in Europe a very important football game was occurring. Most of you know I am a Man U fan, and as it happens there´s an Australian, named Ben, on the trip who´s living in London and supports Chelsea. The banter between the two of us seemed to get the whole tour interested, and when we made it to our hotel just in time for extra time, almost everyone congregated in Ben´s room to watch the pair of us squirm uncomfortably as the game went to penalties. Fortunately the better team won. John Terry can blame the grass all he likes.
And then the real highlight of my day so far. Everyone at GVI knew I was coming back at some point, but not exactly when. All the volunteers meet at a coffee shop near the town centre after the day is done, and I decided I would show up unannounced and succeeded in provoking quite a few double takes. Seeing everyone again was wonderful, and it really feels like I only just left. Whilst I´m only spending one night here this time, I shall return for the whole of the weekend which pleases me greatly. But as tonight is Wednesday night, that means one thing: it´s darts night. Even back home, you may want to take cover.
We went straight to Flores after crossing the border into Guatemala. Flores itself has a certain charm, and we resided on an island in the middle of the lake which was very lovely indeed. But despite the vista and the wonderful coffee shop we stumbled across, there was really only one reason we stopped by: Tikal.
Tikal is a site of Mayan ruins situated in fairly dense jungle territory. We woke up at 2.30 in the morning to climb the pyramids and watch the sunrise, which was a bit of an intense experience as the sun had already begun to rise when we stepped out of the minivan. What followed was a swift walk through the jungle, in the dark, whilst a howler monkey made some rather aggressive noises that sounded more like a jaguar was about to pounce on us from out of the bushes (of course there are jaguars there too, but they would usually run away from humans). The following video is almost entirely pitch black, but that´s kind of the point. Just turn up your speakers and imagine walking through this at around 5am.
A long climb up a large pyramid later, and it was clear that our efforts had been rewarded. And if you need some convincing, here´s the proof.
There are all sorts of things both animal and mineral to be found in Tikal. Monkeys, toucans and Mayan temples to name just a few. You can see a few pictures by clicking here. This monkey however is my personal favourite.After spending the afternoon relaxing in Flores, the next day we moved on to Rio Dulce. In itself the town is nothing special, but we were staying at a little hotel overlooking the lake. Though it was on the mainland, to get to the hotel a small boat ride was needed. Once there, one can drink cocktails at the restaurant and watch the boats go by, chill out in a hammock or just go upstairs and shoot some pool. I´m telling you, all this relaxation was beginning to get to me by that point. So the next day we took a little boat ride, stopping to watch some birds, take a dip in the hot springs and visit the town of Livingstone with its brightly coloured buildings and stunningly delicious iced coffees made with coconut milk.
You may well be wondering what could top all of that, but as far as I´m concerned it was topped this morning when after a very long bus ride, though mercifully in a very comfortable bus, we arrived in Antigua. I was wondering how I would feel when I gazed upon those cobbled streets once more, and whatever feelings I had manifested themselves in a childlike smile and dizzying excitement. What didn´t help however is that we were travelling whilst back in Europe a very important football game was occurring. Most of you know I am a Man U fan, and as it happens there´s an Australian, named Ben, on the trip who´s living in London and supports Chelsea. The banter between the two of us seemed to get the whole tour interested, and when we made it to our hotel just in time for extra time, almost everyone congregated in Ben´s room to watch the pair of us squirm uncomfortably as the game went to penalties. Fortunately the better team won. John Terry can blame the grass all he likes.
And then the real highlight of my day so far. Everyone at GVI knew I was coming back at some point, but not exactly when. All the volunteers meet at a coffee shop near the town centre after the day is done, and I decided I would show up unannounced and succeeded in provoking quite a few double takes. Seeing everyone again was wonderful, and it really feels like I only just left. Whilst I´m only spending one night here this time, I shall return for the whole of the weekend which pleases me greatly. But as tonight is Wednesday night, that means one thing: it´s darts night. Even back home, you may want to take cover.
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