Oh San Jose

Back in good old San Jose, where the showers are hot and vegetarian food is plentiful... I love it here!!!! After an exhausting two weeks in Nicaragua it was surprisingly nice to pass over the border to rich, green, Costa Rico. Anyway I have to make this short cause we are heading to Dominical for some surfing and sniff, sniff, some quality time with Frenchie as this will be his last week with us.
He was planning on sailing to Columbia with us and heading back to France in May, but he has been busted by the French government for collecting unemployement while out of the country and has to high tail it back to France where he faces a 5000 Euro fine!!! Yikes!!! But he has assured us that he will start working again, save up tons of money and come to Burning Man and road trip around the States with us in the Fall. So the three musketeers will be reunited... but damn Pete and I will miss our chain smoking, coffee, drinking, sarcastic French friend.
Anyway, after Frenchie leaves us we are heading into Corcovado National Park on the Osa Penisula for some quality trekking in the most biodiverse region in Central America... heaven. Then we may go for a bit more surfing in Pavones, or just high tail it to Panama and try to get a good crew to sail to COlumbia going...
Who knows, I will write more about my adventures later... but for now the Pacific is calling me (and Pete). Pura vida!

Dona Elba´s, some of the best cigars in the world

Today´s been a good day!

Last night we were sitting with our newfound friend, Ricardo, at the Irish Pub to celbrate St. Paddy´s Day when Ricardo busted out these lush cigars for everyone ot smoke. I mean top of the line cigars. I have smoked expensive Cubans before and they don´t have anything on Dona Elba´s. So obviously the inquisitive person that I am I inquired as to where the exquisite cigars were made, as to which Ricardo replied, "Here in Nicaragua, the owner´s a friend of mine do you want to tour the factory tomorrow?"

Hell´s yes!!!! So I have just spent the last few hours kicking back drinking rum and passionfruit juice, in rocking chairs, smoking some of the finest cigars in the world, with the owner of Dona Elba, talking politics and life.

His advice: "Men have two problems in life; business and women, cigars help relax you and give you perspective on life."

Is this true? I am not sure I am a woman. I do know that cigars help you to relax though, and take a woman´s mind off of the two problems she has: men and the problems men create.

Seriously though, what an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon. The factory was not as much of a factory as it was an old colonial house with a beautiful garden and a pet parrot where some locals roll cigars to show the proccess to tourists. It was very informative and pleasant. Apparently, most of the tobacco leaves used in Cuban cigars are actually grown in Nicaragua, due to its nutrient rich volcanic soil. Also, according to polls done by cigars.com Dona Elba´s organic cigar is ranked third by consumers in the United States, and I can confirm that they have some amazing cigars there. Because Ricardo was friends with the owner, we got to just kick it with him, smoke massive amounts of free cigars and talk politics.

And the good daughter that I am I got my Daddy a nice mahagony box of the finest cigars Don Elba makes, 90% organic tobacco that has been aged for three years and double rolled. He alraedy has plenty of books, but now his study can smell of "rich mahagony" and cigar smoke. For my Burning Man compadres I have a box of the 50% organic cigars that are ranked third in the nation, and for my older brother a leather snake skin and mahagony cigar case that holds two cigars for a baseball game or outting. And the owner cut us a SWEET deal, these cigars boxes go for hundred of dollars in the U.S. and are worth every penny due to their supreme quality, oh and he literally gave us ten free cigars in the process. As we stayed longer he kept throwing different types of cigars at us, "Try this", "try that one", "one for the road". What an awesome guy.

Anyway, the cigar smoking was followed by another kind of smoking at one of Ricardo´s friends "houses"; which was actually more of a shack behind a house, but it was great fun and we taught Ricardo how to make a pipe out of an apple. I felt bad fo rhim though, cause he was like, "It´s good shit, no?"

How do you tell someone that the herb they are smoking is actually not good shit, but just shit? That you are used to smoking the best herb in the world, at better prices and quality than the stuff he just got you?

"It´s shit." I guess it was not that hard.

Anyway, after enquiring about cock fights, (there are unfortunately none until Sunday and we will be on Isle de Ometepe then), we headed out for Gelatto. Can you believe it, three scoops of good Gelatto for $1? I love this place. The Gelatto was followed up by one of the most unhealthy, yet amazingly tasteful street foods I have ever had: fried cheese curds dipped in honey. Drooling yet? You should be, that stuff is amazing. I always judge the general unhealthiness of street food by the obesity of their vendors, and let me tell you the fried cheese crud lady took the cake. I hesitated at first to dip into this strange food, but after Pete gave me a sample of his I was SOLD. They actually melt in your mouth. Good thing we are leaving Granada for Isle de Ometepe tommorrow otherwise I would be in trouble. Pete has already eaten fifteen of them since discovering them yesterday afternoon (they are about the size of Chicken Nuggests but pure cheese), and I dont think my stomach could really handle it.

Ok nap time, I am pleasantly sleepy and full of cigar smoke, passionfruit and run punch, fried cheese curds, and Gelatto... time for a Siesta before we meet Ricardo for drinks and dinner.

oh yes and the links for cigar and volcano board pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097454&id=13301719&l=9ea051d573
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097786&id=13301719&l=174d76c873

I fucking hate hot dogs!!!!!

How come, in a city "catered" to tourists like Granada there are no fucking vegetarian street food options? Actually there are no street food options past ten at night that are not hot dogs!!!! What the fuck, as you may have already been able to tell IO am a pit tipsy, a lot hungry, and have been forced to eat hot dogs for the first time since I saw the Simpsons where Lisa becomes a vegetarian. To paraphrase the episode, she goes through the lunch line with a tray and the lunch lady offers her chicken strips but she imagines baby chickens and says no, then she is offered lamb but she imagines baby lambs and says no again, finally she is offered a hot dog and she imagines, a snake, boot, tin can and a question mark. So true, what the hell are in hot dogs anyway, except for pieces of meat unable to be used as real meat and so they are pressed together, dyed and flavored, and vola! Hot dogs! Ok now imagine a Central American version of that... on a white bun, cold with ketchup and mustard... thats what I just ate, and I feel as if I will barf soon. In fact, it would probably be a good thing if I do, my stomach is turning over and I feel crazy naseaus. Stupid boys, I am completely blaming this on Pete and Frenchie who decided that it would be a great idea to drink our dinner, "saves money and gets you drunk"; well I am already a light weight and I had not eaten since breakfast due to the heat of the day and traveling all day so by the time we left the bar after a great St. Paddy´s day celebration I was drunk, and painfully hungry.

Then they boys eat hot dogs and leave me to wander around the city by myself at night trying to find food, honestly what good are they? The whole reason I travel with boys is so that I don´t hasve to wander around at night by myself. Otherwise I would definately be traveling alone, in fact I think I may need to remedy this situation by meeting up with some of my girlfriends down here and having some girl time where I can eat vegetarian food, gossip, go out dancing without two boys towering over me, and just generally have some space.

I might just be mad, sick, and tired, but I do enjoy traveling alone quite a lot and I have not been doing it since Guatemala so it might be time to remedy the situation. But it was a good night, we met a local guy who is going to take us to tour the cigar factories and maybe to a chicken fight tomorrow. I know what you think, tourist trap right, but honestly he went to college in the States and it just seems like he misses the company of Americans. We already explained to him we are broke tourist, but it does seem like it will be a hell of a time if I am judging from earlier tonight. Plus I absolutely love cigars, call me weird but I feel so powerful holding a stoggie in my mouth, ha ha. Ok I should head to bed.

Maderas, Nicaragua

So once again I think I have Paradise…. In the most unexpected spot really. We arrived in San Juan del Sur expecting it to be beautiful and amazing with good surf at an arm’s reach. However, it was just another port/tourist town with a half finished Jesus statue on the hill, no surf to be had, and cold water… So we did what any disgruntled tourists would do, we got drunk and decided to explore the half finished resort at the end of the beach rather than participate in the lame tourist scene of seedy bars. It was a dark and windy night but from the base of the half finished hotel we found a road, leading up the hill towards, dun dun dahhh…. Jesus!

As we climbed the hill onwards, to Jesus, the half moon rose over San Juan and we could finally see what everyone raved about, a beautiful half moon bay surrounded by hills and lights. If only it were not so damned touristy, and onwards we climbed, at times the wind was so fierce I felt that I would be blown away but we pushed forth to our savior on the hill.

After some time we reached our savior, who was protected by barbed wire and fences. So we hopped the fence and began to explore, quietly though, to not alarm the night watchmen inside of the Jesus building.

But there we were standing at the base of a half-finished Jesus and what did we find… Jesus’s face!!! And guess what? Jesus was plastic, we were laughing about this when all the sudden the wind changed and we heard barking. The strong headwinds had disguised our scent and voices from the dogs, but when the wind changed they were on to us, and they meant business!

So we booked it down the hill, and over that fence as quickly as our little legs could carry us; note to self, flip-flops and skirts are not the best ninja outfits. But no worries, after Pete accidentally slammed me into the barbed-wire fence in a desperate attempt to jump it, we were home free and spent the next few minutes running through bushes and away from the flashlights following us.

It’s good to know that Central Americans take protecting their savior, only serious enough to chase us off the property but not beyond it.

Anyway, that was all the adventure San Juan del Sur was going to offer us because the next morning we headed to the nearby beach of Maderas; where I am now writing this from our own little Paradise on the hill with wireless internet. Oh modern technology!

We basically accidentally stumbled on the nicest hostel in Nicaragua, with a gorgeous ocean view, amazingly comfortable mattresses, a great friendly staff, a balcony just perfect for yoga, and the best food I have had in Central America thus far. Not too forget the usual hammocks and such. There are also a family of monkeys living in the tree near the bathroom. Nice, nice, very nice so many things in the same device!

Volcano Boarding

Due to the overall stupidity of the event, Volcano Boarding deserves its own entry. It is quite possibly the one of the most dangerous gringo tourist traps that exists in Central America, and most definately the worst use of my money so far this trip. It was obviously invented by Gringos because who else would think up charging tourists roughly 25 dollars to hike up a volcano in blazing heat, and then send them down on a wooden plank at speeds up to 80 km per mile over volcanic rock with no way of stopping besides digging your feet into the rock as hard as you can and hoping not to fall. Are Gringo tourists such ignoramouses and thrill seekers that they would pay good money to most definitely fall and scrape themselves up (I would say casualties run about 50 percent); the obvious answer is yes. The hostel that runs the volcano boarding trips is always full, and fills trips to the volcano every other day. People are literally jumping all over themselves and cutting in line to sign up for these trips. They are screaming, “Please take my money, shove me in an uncomfortably crowded pickup, drive me an hour down a dusty and dirty road, make me hike up a volcano in midday sun sweating bullets, then give me an orange ‘protective’ jumpsuit and a wooden plank, and shove me down steep volcanic rock, and laugh at me when I fall.” But at least we had jumpsuits. I am being really serious on this one, there are other companies that run the same trip except they don’t give protective jumpsuits or safety goggles, and they endorse standing. Now there are more than a few things wrong with this picture:

A. The other companies charge the same exact price; who in their right mind has two options at the same price, one with protective gear and one without, and chooses the one without? I actually met such a halfwit at our hostel the day before we went on our trip. We met her as she was about to leave, wearing only short shorts and a tank top. Pete and I immediately forced her to borrow a pair of Pete’s pants, which she thanked us profusely for later because, surprise, surprise she fell off the board, ate shit and scraped her arm up pretty badly, and would have cut up her legs if it had not been for Pete’s pants. Also, let me elaborate on the nature of Volcano Boarding. You basically sit on a wooden plank with a rope handle, put your feet in the middle of the board, hold onto the handle for dear life, get a shove down the hill and hope you do not crash. If you do feel like you are going to crash or are going to fast you can tap you feet on the lavarocks until you slow down or fall, the slower you want to go, the more you dig your feet in. If you feel you are going too far into any direction to one direction, say left, you lift up your opposite leg, right leg, and you will straighten out. Finally, if you want to go fast you put both legs up in the air. That’s it. Those are all the rules of volcano boarding, it’s not rocket science. But as I said before it is pretty dangerous, about half the people fall, and as you try to fall rocks fly up and hit you in the face and scrape your legs up if you don’t have protective gear. Also, the orange jumpsuits just look much cooler and perfect for Zoolander photo shoots.

B. The other ridiculous thing about the other companies is that they actually endorse people standing up on the boards as if they are snowboard. Lava is not snow folks. It has neither the consistency, nor the same friction levels. I f you try to stand up you WILL fall. About a year ago the Burton Snowboard Team came up to Cerra Negro and tried to Volcano Board and every single one of them fell. They tried different techniques, actual snowboards, the wooden boards; nothing worked. So I am quite shocked when stupid tourists, such as the one in the picture below, try to stand up on the board. If you cannot see the details of the photo the girl is also wearing a jean miniskirt, leggings, a short sleeve, shirt, and has no goggles or sunglasses. She fell shortly after I took this picture. Honestly some people are just ripe for Darwin Awards.

That said it was a hell of a time and I would recommend it to friends, I guess it’s the novelty of it all. The hike up to the top of the volcano, Cerra Negro, was extremely beautiful, I learned a bit about the local geology and history of the ”black hill” (Cerro Negro means black hill in Spanish. It appeared 158 years ago after techtonic activity in what used to be corn fields), got to laugh at my own stupidity and that of my friends, and randomly ran into a guy from a GreenPeace conference I attended two years ago in Washington D.C! Small world huh? Who would have thought I would run into some I knew in the States volcano boarding? And to top it off he was heading up to Utila the next day, so he acted as a courier and brought letters to our friends back at Cross Creek and Utila. So all’s well that ends well…

Nica!!!!

So we finally reached Leon, after a grueling, yet lovely two day journey through Honduras and Northern Nicaragua. Our first night we had to stay in Tegucilgalpa, the capital of Honduras, by the bus stop. Ordinarily staying by the bus stop in most huge Third World cities would be a frightening experience, but Teguc was actually much, much nicer than we expected. We stayed in a pretty nice place with a rooftop view of the city at night, ate out in an open-air Comedor under the full moon, and played pool at the local pool hall. All in all a great experience. I would not have wanted to stay there longer, but I was not constantly fearing for my life or belongings like in Guatemala City.
<<< Sunrise over Teguc, view from our hotel



We ended up having a bit of a fiasco at the border though. Frenchies visa was expired by five days because there was no Immigration Office on Utila and he had to stay over three months to finish his Master Scuba Diver Instructor course. So we had anticipated a bit of a problem, but what we did not know is that Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua had enacted a new law this January that you can only stay in those four countries a combined 90 days, unless you have a special ($$$$) visa.

So after lots of argueing, translating, and begging Frenchie had to pay a $150 dollar "fine" (from which he got NO receipt, in America we call that a bribe), just to leave Honduras and now has only five days to leave Nicaragua.
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OK we are not actually that mean, we walked most of the way but hey:

<<<

Nica, has actually been really good to us so far. We found this awesome, but expensive, hostel. We are paying $8 a night, I know so steep (its the most I have paid for lodging since I have been here), but it includes: free 24 hour internet, coffee, tea, pool table, a swimming pool in a beautiful courtyard surrounded with lounge chairs, a TV and DVD players with lots of movies, oh yes a ten minute call to the States everyday (my parents love that part). Anyway, its nice to just chill out here and explore Leon, which by the way is ballz hot!!!
But Pete and I have been having an exciting time "popping Frenchie´s Central American Cherry". Although Frenchie lived on Utila for three months he never spent any time in the "real" Central America. Utila is honestly an isolated island paradise, it is nothing like mainland Central America.
So we have been riding lots of Chicken buses, Collectivos, going to street markets, and going to local discotequas. Chicken buses, for those who do not know, are pimped out old, out of commision school buses from the States that are almost always brightly colored and blasting either mariachi music or Spanish versions of old American songs. Like KC and JoJo "I´ll make love to you" in Spanish, or even "Hotel California. And they are ridiculously amusing to ride. Plus they are the choice mode of transportation for the locals. And yes, it does make me feel safe that they were too old to use in the States so they were shipped down here, pimped out, and now I ride them everywhere.
The other method of travel for locals are collectivos, which are mini-vans that are packed to capacity, and as I said before, in Central America there is always room for one more! In Guatemala Pete and I got to ride ontop of one because it was too full inside, but in Guate everything goes.

We went out dancing last night to a local discotequa that played the strangest assortment of music I have ever heard. The DJ played everything from really fast Salsa, to Reggeaton, to House, Trance, I mean he played everything and mixed it up so frequently we were constantly changing beats. When we first entered the club it was all Nicaraguans shaking their hips to ridiculously fast Merimba (I can´t spell I know). Frenchie, Pete, and I were totally at a loss as how to dance to the music, but after a beer we had some liquid courage and went out to shake it. Actually Frenchie pulled my hand and started twirling me old school rock n´roll style but we made it work and had a fabulous time. I love dancing. Ok off to Volcano Boarding, which will probably have to be its own entry due to the stupidity of it all.
















For those who dont have facebook here is the link to my albums:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=33273964&l=802fa&id=13301719
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097409&id=13301719&l=93d99
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2096701&id=13301719&l=4abb5
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2096688&id=13301719&l=a8a20
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2095876&id=13301719&l=8cb56

Adios Utila

Leaving Utila was unbearable hard, if it had not been for Pete and our new-found travel companion: Frenchie I don´t think I would have left, infact I know I would still be there dancing to superb Wednesday night beats with my ridiculously attractive English-man under a starry sky. Arggg!!! My heart hurts at the thought, and if it were not a gruelly two day journey back I might do it. I miss that beautiful, clean island and the poeple on it like an organ of my body right now.

We had not even been there two weeks but we had built a community and family there that I still miss deeply. It was an island like nothing else that I have encountered on my travels, with a unique community of semi-perminant travelers; those who meant to stay a week and ended up doing their Instructor course and staying three years. Yes there was also the usual traveling crowd, but people tended to stay longer and develope deeper roots. Miraculously in no time at all it was our home. We bonded with our dive masters and instructors over diving, sunset beers at Babalu´s, and communal dinners and barbeques. The last night we were there we all cooked dinner together and I asked our Quebeçoise chef, Ghislan, if he ever got used to people leaving. He put down his knife, looked me in the eyes, and told me: "Tara, I have been traveling for five years and it never gets any easier to say goodbye. If they are good people it always hurts."

Damn it, but he is right, I thought that because I have been traveling for so long that I would be immune to the pain. I left all of you right? But it does not get any easier, not even a smidgen. I feel like I left a piece of my heart on that island with the Cross Creek crew, Lynn my new soul-sister, and Brad (the English guy version of me who I had hopelessly fallen for in record time). Don´t get me wrong I LOVE the traveling life, it enables me to meet people and see different cultures, and experience things that I could never do back home; but if there were ever a reason for me to put up my traveling shoes it would be because I could not bear another goodbye to people I love.

There is always the option to stop loving people so recklessly, but I have so much love to give and there are so many deserving people out there. I might have loved and lost, but at least I love, at least I am alive and can feel the bittersweet pain of longing. Still, I wish now that we would not have left so soon. We had planned to stay pirate an island, and dance our hearts away tonight at Bar in the Bush, but alas nature had other plans for us.

Pete, Lynn, and I went on an adventure Saturday to check out the desolate north side of the island.

All was well and we found a beautiful volcanic lava-rock tide pool that overlooked the ocean where a massive storm was accruing. The sea was usually calm but on that day the waves were four to five feet tall and crashing against the rocks.

As usual we curiously decided to explore and get as close to the waves as possible to stand in awe of mother nature, as usual mother nature bitch slapped us into submission by sending a massive wave that threw me and Lynn off the rocks straight into the volanic rock below.

(The Wave that rocked us, ya waterproof, crushproof, freezeproof camera! Definately my best investment thus far in life)

Needless to say we were pretty cut up, as usual Pete was fine (mainly due to his incredible manliness, but us wee womenfolk bore the brunt of the thrashing).

So there we were all cut up, on an island where the main activities includes diving, drinking, and um... diving (there are more but come-on the majority of the island never leaves the two street town except to dive). The coral seas are also extremely infectious and made my wounds puss up pretty bad after my Monday dive, so that kinda ruled out pirating an island. Also, Pete was getting bored of the island and itching to get a move on. And then there was the fact that Brad and I had been passing a highly infectious strand of some kind of tonsilitis back and forth since we first started hooking up. He would get better, then I would feel sick, I would get better than he would feel sick, but we both did not have enough willpower to keep our hands off of each other (I told you he is the closest thing to a male version of me I think I will ever find).
He had the same color of hair as I did that was curly and a bit blonder from the sea but almost the same length with piercing bright blue eyes instead of green eyes like mine. However, his manurisms laugh and sense of humor matched mine almost exactly. The first night we met we ended up talking the night away so intensely and incessantly that none of our friends could get a word in with us. We were in our own world from the start, but it was a new and exciting world because I have never, ever, dated anyone so similiar to me. (Now I don´t need to become a lesbian to find out what it is like to date me, yay!) At times it was almost scary how well I was able to understand him. We have similiar goals, life plans, aspirations, and motivations. We have been and want to go similiar places. We have similiar taste in comedy, music, and both of us express a deep interest in Anthropology. I trust all of his recommendations and ideas because his mind follows a similiar path as mine. We are both Aries: full of passion, fire, and life; always searching for another adventure, always curious to meet new people and experience new things. We are both much better looking in person than in photos (as shown below);

The similiarities are honestly endless. It was such an amazing experience and insight into myself and my relationships that I will be forever grateful for it. And yes I wish I could be back there on the island with him. I can still hear him whispering in my ear as I tried to leave him for the morning ferry,"There´s always the afternoon ferry..." And trust me if it were not for Pete and Frenchie I would have sunk back into that bed and stayed.... indefinately? (No not indefinately I am way too independent and stubborn to change my plans for anyone, so is he.)

Dating yourself is extremely comfortable in an exciting way, I knew what to expect from Brad, what to anticipate, and what to give. And can I say it was quite a relief to find someone who enjoys life as intensely and wholey as I do. Someone who can be as Hedonistic and unrestrained as I am. But ultimatley I do not think it would have worked out. He had his Dive Masters course on the island and I had my travel plans, and both of us were so headstrong that neither would have budged on their plans. You know what I discovered from dating me? I can be selfish sometimes, not in an uncaring way, but in a this is what I WANT way and there is nothing you can do about it. And you know what else? I can be really, really LOUD too. Like loud enought to wake up all your roomates and the cabana next door, and Brad was LOUDER than me. When we were together we could not control the volumes of our voices. I would get excited, then he would get excited, and so forth until we were pretty much screaming at each other, but no matter right cause we were both selfishly enjoying the exciting conversation we were having. Another thing I will desperately miss about that boy; I could not decide whether I liked kissing or talking to him more, not a bad dilema according to Brad, but still I don´t think I have met someone as stimulating as he was on all levels.

So to all the boys I have dated, I finally get it and I apologize for ever being: loud, selfish and unmoving in my actions or dreams, or too hard to meet up with in the future (cause lets be honest I have no clue where I will be in a week much less a year). Which makes it impossible to ever know if I will see Brad again, cause surprise, surprise: he is the same way. Although, I have hope. My Austrain friend told me that her grandfather told her once "that if you meet someone once, you will meet them again." Lets hope so, there were things left unsaid and undone that I would like to remedy.

And to all the people I have loved and had to leave; I left a piece of myself there with you, just like I left a piece of myself on Utila. Because my heart is plenty big enough and rejevunates at an alarming rate. The more you give the more you get right? Much love to everyone wherever they may be. I am off to enjoy a new country, new culture, and new people... with my bestest buddy Pete and our Third Muskateer: Frenchie, but those travel stories will come later. After I finish the unique and bittersweet chapter of Utila; I won´t forget you. In my mind you will always remain, fresh, clean, beautiful and alive. That is one sure good things about traveling: in my mind Utila will never change. It has been immortalized. The sea will always be fresh, the people will always be alive, young, beautiful and tanned, and the memories will always be good. Muchas Gracias Utila, muchas gracias.