asshand

the lost city, prologue (with an unfortunate TMI section)

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 17:40:00 +0000

a man arrived at our hotel to brief us on our trek to the lost city the following morning. he told us he would be our guide. he spoke barely a word of english, which was unfortunate since we'd be spending the next 6 days with him. still, this was entirely expected. almost nobody speaks english in colombia, even those who cater to gringos.

he told us that only the four of us would be on the trek. the four included mike (uk), walt (usa), avi (israel). mike i just met earlier that day, walt and avi i had been traveling with for about a week now. i was quite happy to be trekking in a small group.

so we pay the man our $500000 each ($250 USD--yes they also use the dollar sign to indicate colombian pesos, which causes a fair amount of psychological sticker shock), and set out to buy our supplies for tomorrow's trek. for me this meant toilet paper. there were rumors that we would be drinking untreated river water and god knows the food prep would not meet with the highest standards of cleanliness as well. still, i was feeling optimistic and went with a cheap, low quality, sandpapery small roll. walt on the other hand went with a luxurious, brand name, triple roll. but then walt is one of those guys who organizes his day around his many bowel movements, spending half an hour or so locked away when the need strikes (sharing rooms with him for several days i had long since realized this). i have never figured out what those people do in there for so long, but maybe it involves a lot of TP. i, on the other hand, am decidedly in the half-a-minute camp, and i'm always trying to come up with ways to improve my times. in fact i so hate third world toilets that in recent years my body has learned (involuntarily) to rarely need them at all outside of the standing position. yes, i was currently on something like a weekly schedule, hence my overwhelming confidence.

i deeply apologize for that unnecessary exposition.

other than the TP, i grab a bottle of rum. i actually considered that much more important, either as a sleep aid or as a painkiller, or perhaps even as a disinfectant. i say sleep aid because we would be sleeping in hammocks in the jungle. i don't think i've ever spent in a full night in a hammock in my life, let alone in a jungle filled with god knows what creatures trying to climb into my hammock with me.

back home

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 16:45:00 +0000

want to know how to get your bags thoroughly searched by US customs? tell them you just spent a month in colombia. when i saw them put on the rubber gloves i was even more worried, but i'm sure they wanted to go there even less than i wanted them to. i was mildly impressed by their questioning however. they used a few slightly tricky techniques to see if i might be lying. i don't know why they can't seem to do that BEFORE people get on a plane, when it might actually be useful.

anyway, after a few days of R&R, the blogging now really gets going.

seriously.

the end

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 22:44:00 +0000

my epic trip home has begun, and the gods are trying to stop me. after 0 days of rain the entire trip, the skies have opened up and rain, thunder & lightening are pounding the bus station. one of the ticket saleswomen uttered a terrified prayer after one massive thunderclap. water is starting to come through the roof and i keep having to move my laptop to dodge it. i'm not thrilled about my bus ride in this weather.

here's the trip i'm piecing together today/tomorrow:

medellin metro
overnight bus to bogota (9 hrs)
taxi from bus station to airport
flight to mexico city
7 hour layover (w/ possible trip into mexico city, if i have the energy)
flight to SF, arrive late saturday night.

fun.

then, at last, i'll finally be able to properly blog.

thundercats

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 00:37:00 +0000

colombian buses--by now i've taken a lot of them.

it's funny. you rarely negotiate prices in colombia. but there is one exception: buses. whenever you head to the bus station, you go from window to window, bargaining hard for your fare. in many countries the bus fare is the only thing you DON'T negotiate. here i regularly get about 20-40% cut off of the initial asking price.

but that is only mildly interesting. much better is that the local buses are occasionally adorned with shit the driver or bus owner thinks is cool. the most common i have seen are buses that have "thundercats" emblazoned across them. yes, it's THE thundercats--the 80's animated series. how this became so cool in colombia is something that warrants further study.

and it gets better. the other day i saw a bus with a massive "la toya" painted on the top of it's front windows. at first i thought this must be a destination. but then i saw "jackson" in smaller script just below it. yes, there is a bus in colombia dedicated to la toya jackson. i suppose she was slightly more popular than tito, but still...

civilization

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 15:13:00 +0000

i have returned from the jungle unkidnapped, followed by a few days in the beautiful yet godawful tyrona national park. there is so much to report and so little time to report it. i sort of dawdled early in my trip and now i am scrambling to get in the last few sights. i currently find myself in cartagena which will be followed by medellin (once the home of pablo escobar's ruthless drug cartel, but now supposedly a very pleasant city), and then back to bogota to fly home. i actually have a 7 hour layover in mexico city so i am considering the final challenge of heading to the center of mexico city via the subway, since i've never been there.

this trip has been different in that i have been traveling with people almost the entire time (something that has further interfered with my blogging). i am not quite sure how/why it happened that way. today for example, i share a room with Walt from NYC, who is obsessed with colombian cleavage (which i am forced to believe is more plentiful here than anywhere else on earth). before that there was the turkish/irish nurse from germany, but i had to end that when she got a little weird. i must remember to dial down the charm when traveling with women.

cuidad perdida

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 03:20:00 +0000

here's a fun recent article on la ciudad perdida.

quick update

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 02:48:00 +0000

i have had a great many (mis)adventures in the last week, and so little time to blog about them.

things will only get worse, since tomorrow i disappear into the jungle for 6 days to find the ciudad perdida, or lost city. truth is, it is no longer lost, hence the 6 days. then, if i don't fall prey to the jungle madness, my blogging resumes.

fun with coca

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 02:16:00 +0000

a retiree from chico, california introduced me to the coca leaf. no, not the refined powder, just the legal (i think) leaf that south american mountain folk have been using as their stimulant of choice for generations. it was an interesting and mercifully brief experience. he gave me "a bit too much" because he wanted to be sure i felt it, something he told me after the fact. apparently many people don't feel much. i am not one of those people. when i started to sweat profusely, he recommended i balance the effect with booze, as necessary. maybe this is not the guy to take advice (or anything else) from.

bogota stats

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 01:40:00 +0000

bogota turns out to be a fairly nice city--easily the nicest large latin american city i've ever visited. less crowded, less grungy, less menacing (although one beggar called me a "white donkey" in english and made threatening gestures) than the central american capitals. parts of the city have real character. i'm staying in the young, bohemian, hipster/rocker part of the city. the young guys all have hair like mine, so i almost fit in. i saw many of them last night as i went from pub to pub. i didn't travel across town to the salsa clubs, which is apparently the thing to do. i got stuck with the lazy/cheap crowd. another surprising thing is that nobody smokes. the grungiest bars have "no smoking" signs, not because they have to, but because their patrons prefer it.

google tells me the elevation here is 8357 feet, which is pretty crazy, though i feel no strain from it. flying in i could see snow-capped peaks jutting up through the clouds, which is pretty impressive for an equatorial region. still, the days here are nice (mid-70s)--only the nights are cold. 3 shirts and a fleece seem to do the trick though, just barely. i suppose this must be as cold as it gets, since the buildings don't have heat.

this doesn't feel much like the third world. if not for all the street hawkers, i might think i was in spain. i hop from museum to museum, feigning interest in fine art like i haven't done since europe. the bogotans i've run into are very middle class, though i have yet to visit the slums.

a visit to my colombian dentist

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 23:36:00 +0000

since i am a ridiculously clever traveler, i thought i'd utilize cheap colombian dentists for a long overdue checkup/cleaning. only suckers pay those ridiculous american prices. the guy who runs my hostel claims that colombian denistry is cheap and of high quality.

so i find a nearby dental clinic. very pristine and professional looking. i try like crazy to get the two women working up front to quote me prices, but they wont. it seems like a pretty basic request, but they seem to be telling me that i must see a dentist first, and then they'd quote me prices based upon what he finds. like taking your car in for repairs, i suppose. i feel annoyed, but i decide i can live with that, though i still worry that some kind of consultation charge will be levied. they ask me to sit and wait a whole 5 minutes to see a dentist, given that i have no appointment and it's a saturday. so i sit down and watch the tv blasting the top 100 videos of the 80s on vh1. after brian ferry and sade and whitesnake and a few others i realize i am waiting a lot longer than 5 minutes. then some guy emerges from the back and starts chatting me up in perfect english. he says he's american, and that he was just there for a few fillings and a cleaning, and it only cost him $500. i feel my bowels begin to give way, but all he notices is my jaw dropping and eyes widening. "that's expensive", i say. "yeah it is," he says, "but think about it compared to home." well i had already, which is why i reacted the way i did, dumbass. we go back and forth like this. my travelers scam radar is on high alert. this feels like a confidence scheme. the trustworthy guy sets my price expectaions to something ridiculously high, then the dentist confirms what he says, or maybe even undercuts him slightly. yes this is how i think when i'm on the road--you have to. but i'm also thinking how ridiculous this idea is--this is obviously a big corporate chain dentist. anyway, the dentist finally calls me in, ending the argument. no english at all from him. he examines me in 2 minutes flat, and tells me i need the hardcore cleaning (which was to be expected--i have more tartar than teeth these days). we sit in front of a computer while he prices it out. comes out to be over $200 for the cleaning alone. i tell him he can get bent, and leave, trying to make out what video number 71 is on my way out. there is no charge for the exam. oh, and his exam yields no cavities, which makes me more likely to conclude it wasn't a scam. but can you tell if someone has cavities in a 2 minute exam without x-rays?

i talk to some british travelers in the evening and they confirm that british dentists give very short exams and rarely order x-rays, so my exam wasn't too absurd, and i can probably believe that i don't have cavities at least. therefore i must conclude that the real scam is the 40 years of american dentistry i have suffered though.

i currently put the chance of scam at my colombian dentist at about 9.3%.

bogota

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 22:21:00 +0000

bogata customs was far easier, and quite friendly. even the cabbie was extremely good natured, probably because the city is deserted with absolutely no traffic. easiest fare ever. he only honked his horn once--a new record. it was kind of eerie actually. apparently everyone was sleeping it off.

my room here is wildly expensive--something like $17 a night, and i don't even have a private bathroom. i never paid so much for so little back in central america! fortunately my hotel provides free wifi and all the coffee i can drink. frankly for these prices i was expecting all of the coca leaves i can chew.

now to go out and find my first meal.

sick in the city

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 11:46:00 +0000

it's 5:47am new years day (3:47 pacific time), and i'm in the mexico city airport on the first (or second, i guess) day of my trip trying to find my way to the plane to Bogota. oh, and i'm sick too. this is one of the most disorganized airports of all time. the information screens from 1963 actually leave out information such as the gate of the flight. and for some incomprehensible reason, they made me pass through mexico customs. i have been given 30 days in the country even though i am spending 2 hours in the international terminal. i should have had to walk 10 feet to change planes--instead i spent half an hour getting lost in this maze of an airport and talking with various officials (at least my spanish is getting a jump start, which is a challenge when sick at 4am).

by the way SFO was easy. i got there 3 hours early which was completely unnecessary. they had one of those terrorist blowing air puff machines in use. funny thing is there were 2 lines, so anyone could choose to avoid the air puffer if they wanted to. clever. i chose to avoid it for fear of being stuck in line due to technical difficulties. still i was pulled aside and tested for explosives.

reflections on the trip, part 1: my health, or "how I became a god"

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 18:00:00 +0000

well, i'm home. for more than a week now.

time for my much anticipated series of posts reflecting on the trip.

part 1: health

observations:

this trip made me remarkably healthy. i lost 20 pounds and 4 years (in appearance, based upon surveys of strangers). i have NEVER been this skinny. i am also at peak tan. though this has nothing to do with health, it makes me LOOK healthy.

this was not my experience in asia. sure, i generally got healthier traveling in asia, but not outlandishly so.

why?

1) food is boring in all central american countries, and even sort of expensive in some of them. thus i ate simply for sustenance. this is in sharp contrast to asia, where delicious, dirt cheap, super-carby food is part of the attraction.
2) tons of exercise. climbing volcanoes, caving, swimming, simply wandering around cities, always being ready to fight bandits, etc. similar to asia, yet asia somehow inspired slightly more laziness in me than did central americ. i think it's because i would tend to "settle down" for days at a time in asia, whereas few places in central america inspired long, lazy visits. (why this was the case is for a later post in the reflections series.)

but it's not only that. i was amazingly energetic during the trip. 8 hour hiking odysseys left me neither tired nor sore. the 20 somethings could not keep up. really. it actually began to concern me. for a while i thought i was dying.

you see, i have this theory, based upon observations of now dead pets and grandparents, that one's death is preceded by an unexplainable burst of energy and generally good feelings. so for a few weeks, i suspected my heart might explode at any moment. amazingly, it did not.

this was not a permanent phenomenon. now that i am back home, i do very little, yet i desire regular naps.

it is sad that i will be doughy and pasty white again very soon.

other stats:

illnesses on the road:

- one 36 hour rather nasty food borne illness, complete with fever, treated with cipro
- one cold at the beginning of the trip

very mild. i've had much worse health problems in asia, where bizarre, often scary illnesses appear out of nowhere, and food borne illness is rampant. central america beats asia hands down, health-wise.

injuries & nuisances:

- thumb smashed swimming in a fast flowing river (still acts up)
- battered and bruised falling though a sidewalk and landing in a sewer 12 feet below (elbow still acts up)
- bug bites: numerous: sand flies (remarkably painful and debilitating), bed bugs, and the unidentifiable. mosquitoes weren't bad at all though, generally, though i did slather on a lot of deet, as there are very few mosquito nets in hotel rooms.
- rashes/fungi: i had a few of various types, some completely new to me. they were generally disgusting and heat/sweat related. i have discovered that there is a downside to polyester pants, beyond the obvious fashion one.
- hangovers: yes, socializing on the road inevitably involves considerable drinking. this was better in central america. asian beer is filled with chemical preservatives. and i once even found a rusty bottle cap at the bottom of my bottle in thailand. central american beer is boring but tastes "clean". nicaraguan rum is magnificent, and other countries local stuff wasn't too bad either. asian booze on the other hand is pure head splitting poison.

fun with the kuna

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 21:05:00 +0000

i´m back from 3 days in the san blas islands.

the islands (in seemingly endless supply) are owned by the kuna. they dress funny and speak their own language (though they generally know spanish too). it is almost a separate country from panama, sort of like american indian nations, only they seem to have even more autonomy. being self sufficient and not subject to most panamanian law, they don´t give a rats ass about anyone. this can be very frustrating when you actually want a kuna to do something for you, or to honor a commitment he has already made.

the kuna do like extracting money from tourists, so they keep letting us in. i paid 6 dollars to enter their territory, yet one week ago the price was $2. an unannounced 300% increase, and no one knows why.

each island seems to be owned by a family. you sort of have to arrange with the family to stay there, and once there you are at their mercy, because they control whether you get to leave, and provide all meals. accomodation is in simple bamboo huts without electricity and all meals are included, assuming the kuna have gathered enough food that day. there is no running water. you might find some "fresh" water to pour over yourself, but it is best just to be content with being salty. the toilet consists of a hole at the end of a rickety pier on the other side of the island. not a place to try to reach at night.

every evening the island women get into a huge battle, yelling at and over each other for up to 2 hours nonstop. the men quietly go about their business, seemingly unconcerned.

having said all of that, the san blas islands are the closest i think i have come to that stereotypical postcard tropical paradise that tourists continually chase. and i don´t say that because of the cocaine that the kuna (legally, i think) provide to tourists courtesy of their columbian neighbors. i didn´t even try it. really.

damn columbians

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 20:31:00 +0000

i'm back in costa rica, trying to find my way into the peninsula de osa, where i can hike and camp in the (supposedly) truly wild wild (snakes, crocs, etc.) for days on end.

however, on the day i arrive, they've closed the entire national park. no, it's not due to wildcat attacks or baby eating dingos. it's that columbian drug runners have been busy offloading cargo in the park, and now the federales are hunting them down. and really, nobody likes hunting down columbian drug runners, who are very mean. so this might take a while.

bocas del toro

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 16:07:00 +0000

sorry for the silence. i am alive in panama exploring the islands of bocas del toro. i would say more but i am late for the beach.

filling in the blanks

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 21:00:00 +0000

i have left out quite a bit:

there was the 2 day volcano trek near leon, nicaragua. there was sleeping outside near the volcano on the one night a year that the locals decide to have a big christian revival party wherein they praise jesus until midnight (complete with generator and sound system which they hauled in on foot), then get insanely drunk and run about wildly, burning everything they can find. i wish it had stopped there. by 2am they were throwing burning logs about which land next to you and your sleeping bag (we had no tents). so after getting no sleep and narrowly avoiding injury, we trekked out at 4am and finished the day at the bubbling mud pits. before the party got out of hand however, the volcano was very cool. a huge smoking crater with lava flows visible at night.

then there was another volcano the next day, which i sledded down at high speed. that was a first. occasionally nutty people actually stand and do the equivalent of snowboarding down. falling in the snow is one thing. and i don´t even really like doing that. so i passed on the opportunity to fall into sharp lava rock. a lot of rock hit me in the face, regardless.

then there were my treks around matagalpa, before i fell in the sewers. tourists barely go there so i surprised a lot of friendly (and occasionally unfriendly) locals.

nicas (as nicaraguans are called) are a refreshing change from hondurans. very friendly. hondurans were stand-offish. this despite the fact that reagan (and others americans before him) caused a great deal of grief down here. i have had a few interesting conversations with nicas about the revolution and US involvement.

there more of course, but i´ve got to go.

shit pit

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 21:19:00 +0000

last night i fell though a sidewalk and landeded in a sewer 10 feet below.

there was some sort of contruction project, it was an exceptionally dark night, the street light was out, and of course there was nothing blocking the dangerous section of sidewalk.

there is nothing quite like falling into a pitch black pit that you didn´t expect to be there. you start falling, and at first you think, "hey i´m falling... but wait... i was just walking... this makes no sense." eventually you accept that you are indeed falling. after that, you think to yourself, "why havent i landed yet? this is taking a very long time." that is when you start to conclude that you are probably going to die, or at least break a lot of bones. that was pretty much how it went, until i finally hit the bottom. yes, time slows down.

a large crowd quickly formed around the hole and the fire department came and rescued me, since there was no defintely no way to climb out. it was all very exciting, both for me and the locals. the locals now think that gringos are superhuman, which is pretty cool. they probably also think that gringos are very stupid, which is less cool. of course at home i would be suing the city for negligence (and would be winning easily), but that´s not how things work here.

i am a bit sore today, and have a few scrapes, but somehow, that´s it. oh, and i am still trying to get the putrid smell out of my clothes and bag. i feel both very forutnate and very unfortunate. india was filled with these sort of death traps, but i always somehow avoided them there. i will not let my guard down again. i think i might also just take more cabs at night.

utila, the rest

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 21:01:00 +0000

i spent 6 days on utila.

utila is all about the diving. most of the people there take diving classes there, since it´s the cheapest place to get certified in the western hemisphere. i am already certified, but i hadn´t dived in 15 years. i did remember the only rule that is really necessary--"breathe"... or the long version --"don´t hold your breath while you ascend or your lungs will explode". anyway, i tood a little refesher class, preformed all of the tricks, and went for 2 dives.

i snorkeled. the snorkeling was better. i have confirmed once again that diving is stupid. you spend all sorts of money, you lug around all sorts of equipment, you can only stay down for like half an hour, yet the cool fish all hang out at snorkeling depth anyway.

i kayaked though a mangrove canal that bisects the island, and ended up on the deserted north side of the island. i saw some tasty looking tourquoise blue crabs. the trip back was treacherous, as the seas were extremely rough and i was constantly soaked by waves. i had to stop a few times and bail out the kayak.

one day i rented a bike. i got across the island, and the bike broke. i spent 2 hours walking it back. i got another bike and rode it to another corner of the island. at the furthermost point, the chain snapped. i spent 1 hour walking it back. i got into a huge all-spanish shouting match with the bike people, who would not give me my money back, and even worse had the nerve to accuse me abusing their bikes. all i did was ride them. anyway, fighting really brings out my best spanish, i must say. that wasn´t my favorite day.

i drank a lot of beer. every night there is different semi-secret location where all the locals go for their big night out. i ended up hanging out most of the time with 2 guys (a mexican and a belgian) who insisted upon finding that place each night. we always managed to do it. the mexican guy would spend each night hitting on chicks and complaining how stuck up they all were when he was rejected. it was literally difficult to walk a block without his stopping to put his moves on some unfortunate woman. though to his credit, he did find a local middle aged divorcee who wanted to marry him. the belgian guy´s favorite pastime was complaining about the price of everything even though the island was remarkably cheap, i thought. hanging out with those guys more than anything else would drive me to drink.

utila, day 1

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 20:46:00 +0000

the ferry to the carribean island of utila is not a lot of fun.

many of the tourists, myself included, sit out front to enjoy the rare sunny weather.

the crew knows what is about to happen, but they say nothing.

the seas become rough, and waves start crashing across the front, soaking all of us.

the crew laughs, as we all rush inside. that´s when they start handing out the vomit bags.

and they chuckle at us some more.

and so i finally arrive at my island destination, slightly worse for wear.

before we are allowed to get off the boat, a drug sniffing dog gives me and my bags the once over. this is done simply to extort money from
backpackers, since there is no international border and anybody could easily drive a boat full of cocaine up to any point on the island. bastards.

i find a the perfect hotel in a quiet, beautiful location. $6 a night.

it is warm and sunny. i am happy.

i decide to wander. first i go the iguana station, a home for rescued and endangered iguanas.
i see lots of disabled reptiles. they charge me $2, which they will use to convince the locals to stop eating delicious endagnered iguanas.

then i head into the jungle to see them in the wild. i have no idea where i´m going.
the mood changes from lightheared island trek to descent into the heart of darkness.

some way in, a sickly stench fills the air. thousands of flies are swarming. the trail runs red with blood.

a dog proudly scampers by with what looks like entrails hanging from his mouth.
he has the largest testicles i have ever seen on a dog. the testicles and entrails bob and swing in unison.

i start thinking about dr. moreau and his unholy island experiments.
though i cannot see the logic in creating creatures with giant balls.

finally i see the origin of the river of blood. i see the guts and hide of a cow--everything else has been hauled off.
i am slightly relieved, but only slightly. and only momentarily.

because suddenly two youngish white guys appear on the trail--a big burly one and a small one.
they don´t really walk toward me as much as lumber.
there is a dullness to their inbred, slackjawed stares.
they are covered up to their waists in mud.
the large one is brandishing a machete, which he holds up as he walks as if he might need to strike at any moment.

in that "deliverance" moment, i pray that they don´t find me "purdy", and simply kill me quickly.

i decide to take a friendly approach. i greet them and ask them where the trail goes.

they respond slowly and with considerable effort.

they turn out to be friendly mormons, of all things, on the island on their mission. it´s their day off and they decided to hack their way through the swamps to the other side of the island.

not having a machete, and being eaten alive by mosquitoes, i dedide to head back, once the mormons disappear from sight.

it is a good day. and i do see a giant iguana in a tree on the way back.

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 00:14:00 +0000

i am in the largest city of my trip thus far... la ceiba. it is an armpit of a city along the carribean coast, filthy and filled with sleazy nightclubs with names like "chicas caliente" and so on. the sign on my hotel room door implores me not to bring home prostitutes. at least it is warmer now that i am out of the mountains. still rainy and cloudy, but warmer.

while a shithole, la ceiba is the staging point for a number of interesting things--among them diving/snorkelling in the bay islands, and adventures in the remote jungles of la moskitia (the mosquito coast--where harrison ford went nuts in that terrible movie), just to name a few. tourist infrasture however is lacking here and everything is closed on sunday, so i am having a hell of a time trying to figure out how to go about anything other than getting to the islands, which is all everyone else seems to do.

i guess i´ll just start with that tomorrow. i could use a few days splashing around in warm carribean waters, once i refresh my scuba skills. on the downside, the sandflies there crave human flesh, supposedly making the beaches uninhabitable.

volcano addendum

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 00:11:00 +0000

i can´t believe i forgot to mention the best part of the volcano hike....

when i reached the top, i saw a neighboring volcano erupt.

well, at least that´s what my guide called it. really it just sort of spews out a cloud of soot every once in a while, but it was still pretty cool.

country 4, here i come

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 18:24:00 +0000

i climbed another volcano this morning, starting at 5am. got scammed into taking a guide, even though i´m not sure why a tiny guide would stop banditos. and there did seem to be bandits about, as the cops were hot on the trail of someone. i reached a height of 3020 meters. no wonder it felt like my legs were made of lead.

enough of guatemala. tomorrow i will enter honduras.

graphics and demographics

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 19:00:00 +0000

guatemala gets a lot of 20 year old packpackers. and lots of americans too. conversing with 20 year olds generally gets tiresome quickly. the 30-somethings seem to find me, and vice versa. we all point out how old we feel amongst the pardy hardy backpackers.

traveling in guatemala is easy. touristy places are connected by (relatively) confortable shuttles. i haven´t taking a chicken bus at all since belize, which makes me kind of sad. of course, i have the power to change this.

antigua is vastly overrated. if i want european style cafes, and european style prices, i will go to europe. oh and there are also european style mcdonalds and burger kings there too.

guatemalan people are amongst the shortest i have ever encountered. i am a giant here.

guatemalan woman really do wear those black outfits with oodles of colorful flair, which makes me happy for some reason. men just dress like men do everywhere, only with an ephasis on cowboy. people are pretty friendly, and usually share holas or buenos diases.

you don´t get harassed by touts and salespeople here nearly as much as you do in asia. and i will repeat what i said before--people speak spanish, even areas where there are more english speaking tourists than locals.

in general, while i am enjoying my experience, it is not quite the adventure that asia was. maybe i am just jaded...

oh, and map updating seems to be broken at the moment.

update

noreply@blogger.com (steyock) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 18:22:00 +0000

apologies for the long delay.

some highlights & lowlights from days past:

- standing at the entrance to a cave at dusk as thousands of bats brush against me as they rush out to dine. fortunately guano easily washes away. walking home in the dark, i came across a local passed out on the roadside. he did not respond to questions regarding his condition, though he groaned a bit. minutes later i encountered one guatemalan beating another in the street. townsfolk stood around and watched silently, mesmerised. no one felt like intervening. apparently sunday is drinking day.

- bathing in the stepped tourquoise pools of semuc champey was awfully nice. pick your favorite picture

- i took a 5 day spanish course in antigua. this is a one-on-one sort of thing. $75 for 4 hours a day. i didn´t learn anything i didn´t already know grammar-wise, but my vocabulary has improved. i am far better with spanish now than most travelers.

- i climbed a volcano, along with a thousand other people. saw lava flow. go ahead and look at other people´s pictures.

- i found my way from antigua to giant lake atitlan. it´s sort of like the lake tahoe of guatemala, only some of the surrounding mountains happen to be volcanos, and it´s a hell of a lot warmer, of course. oh and then there are the bandits, as there are everywhere.

yes, a major problem with guatemala is that everyone is always telling you that everything is too dangerous to do alone due to bandits. everywhere you go and stay, there is a guy out front with a shotgun ready to lay waste to banditos. so you get stuck doing these silly, crowded, expensive tours for no good reason. i am starting to think it is a scam. the guy who ran my guesthouse told me i could hike around the moutains surrounding the lake alone, i should just be prepared for a guy to jump out brandishing a machete and demanding everything i had. i was assured i wouldn´t be killed if i gave him what i had. fine, i thought. so i ventured out with just a bit of cash and nothing else. i walked a portion of the lake (about 3-4 hours) and only ran into friendly people with machetes (everyone male, friend and foe, seems to have machetes--women carry all the heavy stuff on their heads and backs). i ran into a few tourists too, but always in groups of 3 or more. it was nice to finally do something on my own again. i caught a boat home. passenger boats connect the various lakeside villages. the captian was a daredevil and we nearly capsized. judging by the looks on the faces of the locals, this was not a normal occurance...