Wanderer Ramblings

September in the Baltics

2006-08-04T22:50:00.000-04:00

A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to travel to the Baltic States, the first significant trip I did solo. Off I went for 2 weeks to make by way though Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. The following are some observations:

First off I figured traveling in September would be a perfect since the weather would be reasonable, and the tourist would be few. True, the quaint little city centers were not too crowded with tourists, but I couldn’t have been more wrong about the weather. I should have brought along a mink coat. I froze my ass. I think the Baltics in general are pretty much off the tourist circuit, especially once you stray from the capitals of Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius.

Estonia: First and last stop on my trip, and the most “westernized” it seemed to me. Great historic center and friendly people, but also the most expensive of the three counties. In a strange side strip I traveled out to a city not far from the Russian border called Sillamae, and if someone had told me I was in Estonia I would have been shocked. All signs were in Russian, the people spoke only Russian, the restaurants were Russian, and even the architecture harkened back to the communist concrete blocks that are so precious. Granted Estonia was a Russian territory for a significant portion of the 20th century (as was Latvia and Lithuania), but you would have thought they’d have sworn off all things Russian once freed from the Communist hold.

Latvia: Was it just me or were all the people seriously pissed off? And I guess after spending so many years standing in lines, they refuse to recognize the idea of such civilized things now. Judging by the currency exchange offices on every other corner, I got the impression that tourism was really starting to boom. I went out to a spectacular beach community on the Baltic Sea – Jurmala – and ate some dumplings on the boardwalk. Then on the train ride, with wooden niches for seats back to Riga, I got off at a communist era housing complex, where people gave me a look clearly wondering if I was lost. I wasn’t, but it was somewhat creepy and I only stuck around long enough to grab some architectural photographs.

Lithuania: By far my favorite of the three. Friendly people who were eager to please, and a fairly nonexistent tourism industry. An amazing museum in Vilnius at the former KGB headquarter, containing excellent documentation and a self guided tour of holding cells, torture chambers and the like. There’s also some statue that is a major pilgrimage sight. I also stayed at a great hotel created by converting a convent, and I met a great group of retired teachers from Los Angeles, when I went to visit Grutas Parkas, the property of a wealthy mushroom cultivator who bought up all the communist era statues and created a park to display them – more on this in another post.

The Food: I hope you’re a love of sour cream…and meat. I don’t think “vegetarian” translates over there, and sour cream is an automatic accompaniment to everything. Great dumplings, called pelmeni in Latvia, and also a borsht like soup in Estonia. The beer was awesome.

Travel Details: I traveled all by bus, so there were some long overnight journeys, with lots of stops for border control and passport checks. I did however meet other solo travelers my age on these journeys, so it was always great to spend a few hours talking about our travels and offering up tips. I even let one weary backpacker use my hotel shower, while he had a quick stop in Vilnius before continuing onward. The other fun mode of travel are small mini bus/vans that cram as many people as possible with no a/c and the faint hope that you will arrive in your destination in one piece.

And Speaking of Brazil...

2006-06-19T11:21:00.000-04:00

During the same trip I have to say that I was less than impressed with Rio de Janiero. While I did enjoy the enormous feat I ate at a beachside shack for 5 bucks, I wasn't so fond of walking in shit up to my knees.

Yes you read that right.

While out walking, a torrential downpour appeared (perhaps the craziest rain I have ever seen) and literally within 10 minutes the streets were flooded with water and all kinds of crap. As many know there are these hillside villages called favelas, which are basically rudimentary accommodations perched above the city. In the simplest terms they are slums, and are similar to what you would have seen in the movie City of God - great movie by the way. Well, most of these villages do not have running water or plumbing, so when it rains the garbage and other unsanitary items come running down the hills to the streets below, and the street drainage of Rio doesn't quite work fast enough.

Wading through the streets for 10 minutes was definitely not the most fun aspect of the trip, though it was one of the most memorable. This was only enhanced by my poor friend who had to go get his laundry and carry it back in the shit-filled streets. Poor thing.

My advice: take an umbrella and some rubber boots just in case.

I Could Fall Off The Face of The Earth...

2006-06-13T10:35:00.000-04:00

When I went to Brazil a few years ago, my best friend and I traveled to a town called Ouro Preto. For those of you that have never heard of it, and I am guessing that's most of you, it's a pristine little town nestled in the mountains, about 200 miles north of Rio de Janiero. After a very uncomfortable overnight bus ride, we arrived in the early morning bleary-eyed, to an adorable town with some of the best architecture I'd seen in one place.

The city is a maze of hilly, cobble stoned streets, with hidden courtyards and terraces where you can sit down for a beer and a snack while watching the people go by. The most amazing aspect was the 15 or so churches spread out around town, most of them in the ornate Baroque style. Ouro Preto found it's fame - and fortune - in gold, and many of these churches have ridiculously intricate gold detailing on their interiors…and exteriors. It's a miracle that they haven't been pillaged over the years by people wanting to make a buck. After two days of wandering around town, we realized that our sightseeing options had been exhausted and we had yet another day to spend in the city before catching the overnight bus back to Rio. We inquired with the hotel management about a tour we might be able to take or some other sight worth seeing that we might have missed.

This was a feat in itself, since we only spoke Spanish, and though the lovely person at the desk said we could converse in Spanish, he kept responding to my questions in Portuguese. My Portuguese is pretty much non-existent, but I was able to piece together the gist of his sentences by understanding the few words that were close to Spanish.

He recommended that we go to the "Campo da Fazenda". Well, we know that basically means farm, and as far as we were able to understand it was a spa kind of place with hiking trails, waterfalls, a pool, and we would get lunch. He said it was 40 reais (about 10 bucks then), and they would pick us up at 9am and bring us back later in the day. We seriously had no idea what to expect.

So in the morning this little beat-up red car comes to pick us up and we have no way of communicating with the driver, but we get in the car with him and his buddy and head off. After 10 minutes of driving through the slightly creepy outskirts of town with hillside shacks, dodging farm animals along the road, we begin to look at each other and realize we have no idea where we are going, no one knows our whereabouts other than the hotel guy from the night before, and we could literally disappear at this moment and no one would even know where to begin looking for us. I could see the headlines - Americans go missing in mountains of Brazil. Dear God.

Then we pull into a driveway of sorts and we can see some buildings up a hill, so we get out of the car and start to walk up the hill, when the driver yells at us. It's pretty clear he wants us to stop and wait, so we do, and he and his friend leave. At this point we're wondering if we should start running in the other direction. I can see the blindfolds coming and the picture of me holding the day's paper asking for a ransom. Just when my nerves were starting to hit their stride this joyful women comes strolling over, shakes our hand and starts welcoming us to the "campo", in impeccable English.

She explains to us, that the grounds, which used to be a coffee plantation, are ours to peruse. She tells us there are some trails leading to waterfalls and outlooks of the mountains and ridges. She said lunch would be served at noon, and tea and snacks at 5, after which we would be driven back to Ouro Preto. She says we're the only ones using the grounds for the days so to make ourselves comfortable.

Off we go on some of the trails. Where we did in fact see some spectacular waterfalls, and stood on a cliff perched a good 1000 feet off the forest floor. Talk about getting weak in the knees. Lunch was a spectacular affair of Brazilian delicacies all freshly prepared for the two of us, and the campo staff. We spent the afternoon talking with the owner about the farm, which her father passed to her and her brother, neither of whom wanted to continue the coffee growing, so they turned it into a small bed and breakfast and place for visitors to come and relax for the day.

Hours later we had some tea and finger sandwiches, and wished we didn't have to go back. It was one of the most relaxing days I've ever spent on vacation, and it would be great to go back one day to see it all again.
The experience taught me an important lesson in being a spontaneous traveler. Yes, it very well could have ended up being a disaster in many capacities, but it wasn't. Sometimes the best travel experiences are off the beaten track, and are things you don't plan for, or even know about until your faced with it. Take chance and you'll be rewarded.

Word Asscociation International

2006-05-10T10:43:00.000-04:00

I thought this would be a fun game to play with myself. I basically went through every foreign country I have been to adn wrote down the first word or words that came to mind. There are many anecdotes to accompany most, but I will save those long, mostly amusing stories for another time. Some are obvious, others might make absolutely no sense.

Andorra - Mountains
Aruba - Rock formations
Australia - The Harbour
Austria - Schonbrunn Palace
Bahamas - Customs
Barbados - Snorkeling
Belize - Mosquito bites
Belgium - Cherry Beer
Brazil - Fejoada
Canada - Ice Wine
Costa Rica - Blue crabs
Czech Republic - Castle Views
Cuba - Helado
Denmark - Tivoli
Estonia - Fur Coats
Finland - Flood
France - The Cave
Germany - Sausage
Guatemala - Ruins
Hungary - Turkish bath
Italy - Gelatto in San Marcos
Latvia - SOur Cream
Lithuania - Grutas Parkas
Luxembourg - Tunnels
Mexico - Palenque
Monaco - Gambling
Morocco - Mint tea
The Netherlands - Brown Cafes (not what you're thinking)
New Zealand - Rotoroura
Poland - Auschwitz
Portugal - Secret Terrace
St. Kitts - Deserted Beach
Slovak Republic - Train Station
Spain - The Alhambra
Sweden - Ferry ride
Switzerland - Chagall windows
Tunisia - Dougga Ruins
United Kingdon - Graduation Day
United States - Home
Venezuela - Barrio

I realized that a lot of my associations have to do with food. Hmmm...

Bathing Suit Please

2006-03-21T11:06:00.000-05:00

You know it's true what they say about Brazilian bathing suits being virtually non-existent. In my time at Buzios and on the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema in Rio, I saw a lot of flimsy suits on both men and women. Now I've been to European beaches where the women go topless and the men haven't quite gotten the concept of board shorts yet, preferring the age-old speedo, but Brazil was an entirely different animal.

It was almost like a contest to see who could wear the least amount on the beach without actually being naked. For all intents and purposes they should have just been naked. Nothing was really left to the imagination anyway. And this goes for the men and women. And unfortunately it went for all shapes, sizes and ages. I am all for showing what you got and being proud of it, but I really don't need to see 80-year-old grandma and grandpa in g-strings.

More power to them for body security, and shame on me and my American modesty (is there such a thing in a country that gave the world "Girls Gone Wild"?), but it was a little much for me to handle. On the opposite end of the spectrum there were some seriously hot bodies flaunting their assets, which my gay travel companion seemed to rather enjoy. But then again he himself was wearing a Burberry speedo.

I might not be on the next flight out to Brazil anytime soon, but it has nothing to do with my misadventures in bathing suit fashion, but rather the shit (literally) I encountered in the street one nasty evening. Stay tuned…

Losing Things

2006-03-06T15:38:00.000-05:00

In my brother's first trip across the ocean I had planned a two week whirlwind tour of Europe. He was meeting up with me in Paris after I had been traveling the continent for 2 weeks with a friend. We didn't plan a long stay in Paris because we were making a loop and were planning all the Paris sights at the end of the trip.

I find him passed out in the hotel when I get there and we have a quick dinner and get to bed to make our early train for Amsterdam. We take the Thalys to Brussels where we have to switch to another train headed for Amsterdam. We've navigated the station and found our new train without incident.

After settling in to our seats I hear him say "Oh shit" and he starts looking in all his pockets. This isn't something someone wants to hear from their traveling companion, so I ask what's wrong, and he says, "I think I left my passport on the other train". I'm of course thinking you have to be kidding me. I tell him to go back to the train and look (hoping it's still there after 10 minutes) and I start unloading our stuff off the train.

Now from my brother's account of things: He runs to the track where we came in and luckily the train is still there, but when he finds our seats there is no sign of the passport. He just happens to see a conductor and asks if they saw a passport. The conductor says no, but to check the lost and found. So he runs to the lost and found and sees and enormous line. Looking at the clock and realizing that our train is leaving in less than 5 minutes, so he just goes to the front and asks the person behind the glass if they have an American passport. She looks at something, looks at him and hands him the passport. In what world do things really work out that easily? It was his lucky freakin' day, but meanwhile he just perpetuated the idea that American's are cocky asses that do what they want.

With a minute to go I see him running down the platform and telling me to get back on the train. We jump on the train and it literally starts moving out of the station. Talk about cutting it close.

It would have been a real treat had he lost his passport a day after landing, well actually he did lose it momentarily. That really would have made the trip oh so great.

Top 3: Best Flights Ever

2006-02-15T14:19:00.000-05:00

1. 2001 - Chicago to Hartford: I was going to visit my best friend in Connecticut for a weekend and was just settling when this guy approaches me and we have the following exchange:

Him: Excuse me, but you happen to be sitting next to an old friend of mine that I just bumped into here at the airport. Do you mind switching seats with me?

Me: Of course not, where are you sitting?

Him: 1A, thank you so much

Me: Not a problem. Enjoy catching up with your friend.

We trade tickets and I make my way up to first class. I plop myself down in my new, lush seat and take in the 1st class sights. Soon after take off I have the most memorable plane meal ever. Fresh baked muffins, a mimosa, eggs any way I wanted them. I wish I could travel like this always. I had the might to even steal the individual size salt and pepper shakers but I restrained myself.

2. 2001 - Los Angeles to Sydney, Australia: You'd think that the longest flight I've ever been on would be far from one of my best flight experiences, but you'd be so very wrong. Besides the fact that the airline I flew is the best ever, all 14 hours of this flight I'd do again in a heart beat. First of all I was given an exit row seat next to the window, and the middle seat was free. The flight attendant comes to me before take-off and politely asks if I would mind switching seats with someone a few rows back with a stiff leg. I don't think too hard about my decision because I know my short self doesn't really need all that leg room. The flight attendant tells me she is grateful for my generosity and says she'll do all she can to make sure I have a great flight.

Well, she told be no lie. Once I had gathered my things and was on my way to my new seat I realize she gave me an entire row to myself. I settled in and she brought me a cocktail. Even better. Then we take-off and after another cocktail and a bottle of wine with dinner I layout on my row and fall asleep for a good 5 hours, until another round of food and drinks is brought to me, as well as a water bottle to myself. I arrived in Sydney well rested and ready to take on Australia, rather than exhausted and delirious. Service goes a long way in my book, but I guess so does being a nice person on in a while.

3. 1998 - Washington D.C. to London: The best thing about this was the sheer amenities on board. I hadn't flown across the Atlantic since my trip to Finland and that was a couple of years earlier and was with a group. This time I was on my own, I was 19 and on my way to London for the first time. I get one the plane and there's a little gift pack on my seat, with socks, toothbrush and paste, sleep/eye mask and various other travel goodies. Then I settle into my seat and see the magnificent entertainment center on the chair back in front of me. I had a host of movies to choose from and could watch them according to my own schedule, plus I could opt to play video games. What made this great flight even better was the booze. A cocktail, then wine with dinner, the some Bailey's then all over a gain a few hours later. It was the first time I experienced the international flight liquor policy and I was loving it. I didn't love so much finding my way into London at 9 in the morning, while arguable drunk. I only wish the flight would have been longer to take more advantage.

Honorable mention: 2002 - Burbank, CA to Oakland CA: The flight attendants were what made this flight truly memorable. They gave their pre-take off lecture in versus, then as the flight was in slanted take-off mode they launched peanut bags down the aisle for people to take as they pleased and pass on to others. Once safely in the air they passed around a hat and people could donate $1 to a pool. They picked random seats to win the pot. It was a short flight, but sweet.

Top 3: Worst Flights Ever

2006-02-13T15:17:00.000-05:00

Now I'm not normally a fearful flyer, in fact I tend to rather enjoy being on planes, but there have on occasions been moments when I thought to myself "This is it, we're going down" and started in with the Hail Mary's, and there have been other times when the entire experience from arriving at the airport to claiming my luggage has been one nightmare after another. So here are my 3 worst experiences:

1. 2003 - Santiago de Cuba to Havana: Yes, I was fully warned not to fly within Cuba, but when faced with unappealing option of driving for 10+ hours from Santiago de Cuba to Havana, my travel companions and I decided we'd take out chances with the flight. We should have driven like we did on the way down, but we did that over the course of a week.

We'll start with the airport experience. Granted that a group of 15 American (13 of them women) would raise some eyebrows of interest, but at security each and every one of us had our bags completely taken apart and searched with a fine-toothed comb. I honestly think this was more out of curiosity that anything, given that our toiletry cases we're of got the most scrutiny. I think they just wanted to know what kind of stuff we had.

So we go to board the small, old Russian plane and are fully checked again. We claim some seats and are up and away. To say the interior was dilapidated would be a huge understatement, but the duct tape on the wing as what appeared to be a form of repair was just too much to handle. Add to that the fact that the flight attendant flight pin was missing a wing, and we all wanted to be back on the ground. We look out the window and realize we're only about 1000 feet off the ground and bumping and shaking all around. Then a strange noise and then some hazy looking smoke coming through the edges of the plane adds to the terror. It turns out the "smoke" was the air-conditioning mist, and the plane flew that low to the ground the whole way.

We stopped in some coastal town to pick up some more passengers and pick some up, but this wasn't a scheduled stop on our itinerary. We all have to deplane, go through security AGAIN and then re-board. None of us were very excited about this, and very wearily went up the steps for another 45 minutes of torture before landing in Havana.

When we landed in Havana (only 5 hours late mind you), we all literally kissed the ground. Never again will I fly in Cuba. I think any old beat up car would suit me just fine. This one wins by a LONG shot. No other experience even comes close.

2. 1996 - San Francisco to JFK-New York: It's my first time flying to Europe, and I'm on my way to Finland with a layover in New York. We took off 4 hours late so out connection was now pretty minimal. We're descending to the runway, and suddenly within 50 feet of touching ground, we bee-lining it back into the air. Turns out, as the captain so kindly informed us, that there was a plane taking off on the runway we were landing on. Hello, air traffic control? So now we're even later in landing, and all scared shitless because we almost collided with another plane.

The saving grace to this experience was because we were a soccer team representing the US, we were able to get off the plane before everyone else, and were met by airport staff and taken to our departing flight, which had waited for us for an hour. Loved the treatment, but could have done without the harrowing first round of landing games.

3. 2004 - Krakow, Poland to JFK-New York: Now not that anything frightening happened on this flight, but the experience was one of the strangest I've had. First there was all the people that crowded the gate when they made the announcement that the flight would board in 20 minutes. Come on people. Then there was the guy I sat next to for the 9 hours flight that drank half a bottle of vodka and then passed out literally on me. I've actually never had this happen before. And it wasn't easy to move him. I was helpless.

Lastly there was the landing. The plane touches ground, everyone claps and then EVERYONE (I am not exaggerating) get up and starts getting their bags down and stretching. If you've ever flown into JFK you probably know that a good 20 minutes is usually spent taxi-ing around the airport, so I'm looking around at all these people in wonder. Non announcement was made to return to your seats, but I don't think anyone would have listened anyway. Clearly I was not on a US based airline, where the mere sound of a seatbelt unbuckled prompts the flight attendants to make announcement to stay in your seat, with your seatbelt on until you've reached the gate and the light is turned off. This was another animal, and it was amusing and surreal at the same time.

Honorable Mention - CDG-Paris airport: I can't qualify this as a "worst" flight experience because the flight itself was just fine, it was the wench at the ticket counter I wanted to strangle. I booked my ticket but somewhere along the way my flight had been changed to an earlier flight which I had missed because I was never informed. The manager of the ticket counter would not let me on the flights I was there for until I paid a ridiculous fee. I showed her my itinerary print-out but she could have cared less. Many rude comments were exchanged (I'll spare all the details because I am sure it will be a post of it's own one day), and in the end I had to pay to get on the flights I had booked in the first place. Needless to say I brewed a shit storm on the airline's refund and customer service departments and got my money back. Bastards.

Stay tuned for other "Top 3" entries, including Best Flights Ever coming very soon...

Belize: Chapter Three

2006-02-09T11:57:00.000-05:00

The Greatest Hotel

Well after a couple nights in San Ignacio we were moved to another area of Belize known as the Mountain Pine Ridge Reserve (not too far from San Ignacio actually). They had booked us for a couple of nights at two places and divided the group. Lucky for my Mom and I we were taken to Blancaneaux Lodge, which is easily the nicest place I have ever stayed. I look forward to a return trip on day because it is so serene, relaxing and comfortable. Check out the link for more info and on the lodge:

http://www.blancaneaux.com

The Pine Ridge Reserve is kind of a sad story in itself because apparently there is some bug that is killing all of the trees and they don't know how to solve the problem. It was beautiful though when I was there with plenty of trails to hike and I saw a large cave with a beach and river going through it that was a pretty amazing site. Hopefully it is still as pristine 4 years later.

The lodge itself is located along a river, which is great for swimming, and if you follow it for a few minutes you reach huge waterfall and pools for swimming and lounging about. I however made the mistake of walking through 10 foot-tall grass in search of said amazing waterfall in a bathing suit and towel and was eaten alive by mosquitoes. That night I counted 47 bites on my back alone. Needless to say I was uncomfortably itchy for a few days. Let's not even get into the probability of snakes that must have been lurking in grass just waiting for a nice piece of flesh to bite into. I still can't believe I escaped that trek relatively unharmed.

Anyway, the resort is comprised of various cabanas around the property, which have lavish decorations and showers that look out into the wilderness (not to worry, no one but the animals are going to see you because each cabana is secluded). It was founded by Francis Ford Coppola (yes the movie maker) and he flies in wine from his Napa Valley vineyard and fresh food each week on their private landing strip. The resort also has an organic garden of it's own for fresh vegetables, fruits and herbs. The one little restaurant serves the most scrumptious food, and they offer an abundance of activities if you want to explore the area.

Anyway, Blancaneaux will always be fresh in my mind as a place I spent a couple of glorious days of natural and quiet surroundings. I can't wait to get back there one day.

Belize: Chapter Two

2006-02-07T17:58:00.000-05:00

Of Cows and Bandits

So like I said, our lovely hotel in Belize decided to pack us all into a bus so that we could continue our vacation in another part of the country without fear of being blown away in the hurricane. In case anyone is wondering the hurricane did in fact hit Ambergris Caye and a significant portion of the island's properties were severely damaged.

So off we were to a place called San Ignacio in the Cayo district. It's a forested region close to the Guatemalan border. We stayed in a hillside hotel with cabanas (with thatched roofs and porches with hammocks) perched above the town. While figuring out what the hell we would do over the next few days in the interior, a few of us realized that we weren't all that far from Tikal and requested a trip to the world-renown ancient ruins.

After some negotiation about the logistics we were off for a 3-hour drive into the jungle. Being an architect this was a dream. I've always had an interest in ancient sites, which resulted in a trip across Mexico to visit the places so famous there - Chichen-Itza, Tulum, Uxmal, Palenque, Teotihuacan, and the like. Now if only I could get to Egypt, Peru and Cambodia to round out my interest. Along the way we had a lunch at a roadside dive, which might not have been the smartest choice, but it was damn good. I'm still suprised I didn't suffer some serious stomach ailment after that.

We arrived at Tikal just after 1 and were told to be back on the bus by 4:30 because if we didn't make it back to the border by a certain time it would close and we'd be in Guatemala for the night. Now nothing against Guatemala, but this didn't really seem ideal. I had taken notice of the border town on the way in and I certainly didn't see a Holiday Inn, or anything else inviting for that matter.

Okay, a good few hours wandering the ruins, climbing temples, and being scared out of my mind when I heard an animal roar. It sounded like a lion, but it turns out it was just some howler monkeys in trees. Man those things are loud. Tikal is beautiful. It reminded me a lot of Palenque with these massive temples peeking out of the jungle. It was great, but like a good little day-tripper I made my way back to the van by 4:30 to ensure that we could leave as scheduled. I shouldn't have bothered.

First 10 minutes go by and we're still missing a good handful of people. A few minutes later a couple trickle in, but by 5 o'clock we're still missing a few. I of course am freaking out at the thought of not being able to get back into Belize. I'm an adventurer, but when I signed up for this trip I wanted to sit on a beach for a week watching my skin grow browner and enjoying having nothing to do, and so I wasn't exactly mentally prepared to be sleeping on a floor with 10 other people, 100 cockroaches and 1000 mosquitoes.

I go in search of the remaining stragglers and find them haggling at the outdoor market for some tacky souvenir that doesn't even represent the culture of Guatemala but rather something you can get in any tourist destination. I drag their asses back to the bus. As we're heading back to the border (a good 2 hour drive), my Mom converses with the driver in Spanish about what happens if we don't get there in time. Now I might not be able to speak Spanish so well, but I sure as hell can understand it. He is uncomfortable for a moment and then says that the border doesn't really close, it's the bandits he was concerned about. Excuse me?

According to our guide, the bandits are notorious for attacking tourist cars once the sun goes down. Sometimes they just want to rob you, but sometimes they attack people and worse things happen. Well, in my opinion that's worse than being stuck in Guatemala for a night, so I very wearily look out the window at the setting sun. We probably still have an hour and a half to go and it's going to be dark in 20 minutes. I try to ignore my fears by closing my eyes, only to be awoken 10 minutes later when the car comes to a screeching halt.

I think to myself - this is it, we're going to be attacked. I look out the front of the car, but instead of being held up by bandits it’s a herd of cows in front of us, moving ever so slowly along the highway. We all had a nice giggle over it, but 20 minutes later we're still behind the cows and now we're all more or less annoyed. We're finally able to maneuver around the bovines and make our way to the border without incident. Back to San Ignacio and the safety of my cabana on the hill. Thank God.

Belize: Chapter One

2006-02-01T16:17:00.000-05:00

Swept Away (Almost)

In the last decade, my mother and I have instituted a little bi-annual mother-daughter get away, so in 2001 my Mom suggested we go somewhere beachy and left it up to me to decide where. It crossed my mind to hit up one of those all-inclusive resorts so prevalent in the Dominican Republic or Jamaica, which was more along the lines of what she was thinking in the first place. I call her one day:

Me: I think I picked a place for our trip
Mom: Oh good, where?
Me: Ambergris Caye, Belize
Mom: Uh, where?
Me: Belize, in Central America.
Mom: Couldn't you have picked Hawaii, or Tahiti or some place I've heard of.
Me: Supposedly the beaches are great and it's very relaxing and relatively un-touristed.
Mom: Mmmmm…Okay, I guess we should get started on the details then.

Needless to say, she was not too pleased when she discovered we'd have to get in a little 10 seater prop plane to the islands. For those that don't know, Ambergris Caye is an island of sorts set off the mainland of Belize. It's part of a group of such islands in the middle of the Barrier Reef. It's actually closer to Mexico than it is to Belize.

For more information than you'd ever really want check out:
http://www.ambergriscaye.com/

So we booked ourselves for a week in a thatch-roofed beachfront cabana at Captain Morgan's Retreat (that's where they filmed that retarded reality show Temptation Island if you saw it way back when, retarded yes, but I still watched it religiously every week). http://www.captainmorgans.com/

After landing at the closest thing to a dirt landing strip I've ever seen in Belize City we are whisked away to a small plane for a 15 minute flight to Sand Pedro - the city on Ambergris Caye. There we meet someone from the hotel, load onto a high-speed boat and find ourselves on a sandy beach 2 miles down the coast. We immediately have cocktails, throw on the suntan lotion and lie in a hammock. We proceed to stay in this position for the next few days with brief forays into the city to eat, parasail and shop when we tire of the resort life.

Then with 4 days left to go in our trip we get an announcement from hotel management that they are evacuating the island because a hurricane is heading straight for it. I didn't sign up for this. Lucky for us the hotel realized that most people didn't want to be put on the next US bound flight, so they planned an excursion to the Belizean interior for those interested in continuing their vacation.

In reality, this was a blessing because we got to explore more of the country than we had anticipated, and made good friends with many of the people staying at the resort, except the few honeymooning couples who were not too pleased to have their romantic vacation squashed. In all honesty, I think I would have gotten a little stir-crazy being lazy like that for too many more days.

We all boarded a boat and were taken to the capital, watching dolphins jumping around the boat along the way, and put on a private bus heading to the jungle area bordering Guatemala. More on the rest of this experience in another entry. This is only Chapter One after all.

Ambergris Caye is exceptionally beautiful and relaxing. There isn't much to do other than beach/water related activities, so if you're looking for a cultural experience then look elsewhere. But if you want to lie on a clean beach in peace, go for a dip in warmish water, drink tropical cocktails and generally be pampered, then book a flight now. For all I know tourism has built it up over the last 5 years, but I certainly hope not. It was a gem when I was there. Perhaps check out the other nearby islands that are even more secluded.

And Speaking of Cruises....

2006-01-20T13:41:00.000-05:00

These are the things that just blew me away:

Meeting people that boasted about having this be their 10th (or some other ungodly amount) cruise ---some of them doing the same itinerary. I mean who wants to do the same trip year after year. While I would go on a cruise again, I would not do the same trip. I don't even think I would do the Caribbean again, until exploring another part of the world by sea first.

The sheer amount of food. I mean it's no wonder people gain inordinate amounts of weight when on ship. Is a midnight buffet really necessary after you ate a breakfast, mid-morning snack, lunch, afternoon snack, pre-dinner snack and then dinner?

The prim and properness of it all. I did attend a napkin folding course after all. They should have just had an etiquette class to train all of the heathens I saw using butter knives for their steaks.

Having an announcement over the PA system at 3am asking someone to report to customer relations after being thrown around the cabin all night in what I assumes was a rough patch in the sea. I found out the next day that some kid's (and by kid I mean a 17-year-old) mother had reported him missing. She said she had brought him on a cruise because he had been mentally unstable over the last few months and she was hoping to cheer him up. She had thought he might have jumped off the ship. So the boat movements were actually the crew going around in circles looking for a body floating in the water. When no sign of him appeared he was called for over the PA. Turns out he had been shacking up with some girl that night. Depression problem relieved I suppose.

That not having a window to the outside world while you sleep isn't really a necessity and I didn't feel as claustrophobic as I imagined I'd be.

With that said, taking a shower in a 2 x 2 stall isn't so easy after 7 days. Actually it isn't easy after 1 day.

Getting room service for free rules. Although with all the other food I ate, I couldn't actually eat it. The luxury was just nice.

Meeting couples that were honeymooning via cruise. Do people really want to spend their first nights together on a ship with 1000 other people? I find that completely unappealing. Wouldn't a remote destination be more romantic? I guess to each their own, but I don't understand the lure.

To Cruise Or Not To Cruise

2006-01-18T14:29:00.000-05:00

Over the years I have had many discussions about the various aspects of cruising. Some consider it the best vacation ever, while others liken it to old people and those that just don't know any better. I have taken one cruise in my life, owing to the fact that my mother refuses to go on one on account of her seas-sickness, while my father has been aching to take a cruise for as long as I can remember. The fact that my mother bases her fear of cruising on the sole testimony of my aunt who took one 20 years ago and was sick the entire time id questionable in itself. Let's put aside the fact that my aunt was undoubtedly drunk for most of it (excessive drinking and an extended stay on a boat probably isn't the best combination), I must believe that the stabilization of cruise boats since the 1980's has improved greatly.

So, with a friend in tow one spring break I decided to take a cruise and see if it was all it was cracked up to be. I went out of Puerto Rico and made stops in St.Thomas (I swear it's mandatory that all cruise ships stop here), Barbados, St. Kitts, Aruba and Venezuela. Quite the itinerary I thought.

My thoughts on cruising as vacation were formed by this trip and I'll say that while I wouldn't necessarily jump out of my seat to take a cruise again, I would consider it as an option depending on the circumstances.

First the positives: unpacking only once and still being able to visit a new place each day is incomparable; all that day to day crap of figuring out where you're going to eat, where you're going to go, etc. is figured out; the easiness of mingling with fellow travelers; pretty decent food and as much as you want of it; not having a care in the world except to lie on the deck with a book, or gamble away in the casino, or go to the theater, etc.

And now the negatives: losing your travel independence because you have to abide by the ship's timetable for everything; feeling ushered everywhere; only seeing one city of an entire island and being limited to just a few measly hours; having the locals know you are a tourist because they saw you scurrying down the ramp and notice you checking your watch; sharing your vacation with 1000 other people; and wanting to be on land.
So ultimately a cruise is a great thing for people who want an easy vacation, were they don't have to think too hard about any aspect of it except how well to tip to bellhop and maids. Maybe this is why there are so many elderly people on cruises. No offense to the elderly among us, but when I'm 70 I might want everything handed to me to. It really is an all-in-one package. You pay and your given a bed, food and entertainment, so what more could one want. Well if you're the type of traveler that wants to take in the "real" sights of a place, and be leisurely about your wandering around then you'd just hate it.

Running Out Of Gas

2005-12-29T15:44:00.000-05:00

Pray to whoever it is you believe in that if you ever run out of gas in a foreign country that it is Portugal. Now I don't make a habit of running on empty so I can't compare the services of other nations, but Portugal does a pretty damn good job of helping those in distress. Too bad for me and my traveling companion we weren't aware of it until after our ordeal was over. We could have saved ourselves a few hours of stress and been on our merry little way.

Cruising along the highway reading Harry Potter aloud to entertain us, I feel the car lose power and just crawl to a stop 100 meters later. I look at my friend the driver, and he says, "Uh, I think we ran out of gas", and I'm thinking to myself how the hell did that happen. Yes I was annoyed, but that wasn't going to solve anything, so we decided he would walk to the gas station since he remembered a previous sign saying it was about 2 km away. I would wait in the car in case the polic came.

During an hour of waiting the police had in fact come and set up the hazard triangle warning and tried to communicate with me to figure out what happened. I saw a distress phone, called it and spoke with the woman telling her that my friend had left quite a while ago and hadn't returned with gas. She said she would send the road patrol people.

By this time I had visions of calling my friend's mother and telling her that her son had disappeared somewhere in Portugal. When the road patrol people got there they told me the priorly mentioned gas station was actually 20 km away, which isn't very walkable. They asked for a description of my friend and were off to find him, get us gas and come back. Fast forward another hour - still no sign of anyone and the sun is setting.

Enter extreme paranoia. I go to the distress phone again. The woman tells me they found my friend, got gas and would return soon. Another hour plus and they finally show up. My friend tells me that they had to stop and help everyone along the way, and he just patiently sat there with a can of gas in his lap.

Turns out if we had just used the distress phone in the first place the road patrol would have given us enough gas to get to the next station. Go figure.

The Most Interesting Of Places

2005-12-29T15:23:00.000-05:00

A little over 2 years ago I had the opportunity to go to Cuba, and believe it or not it was all legal. Once upon a time (before W changed the rules) you could travel to Cuba for "educational" reasons. So a few of my fellow architectural graduate students and I got together and planned a trip to Cuba for educational reasons. And it was educational - we did, after all, take in many of the countries architectural splendors and we even dragged along a professor for the fun.

Now Cuba, by leaps and bounds, is the most interesting place I have ever been, but I would never say it is my favorite place, or even the nicest place. It was interesting in that the culture and the way the people lived was like nothing I had ever been privy to. When visiting other places, even if they were in the 3rd world, I could see the influence of American culture, or even some would say global culture. These things - jeans, post 1980's cars, cell phones, internet cafes, McDonald's, even CocaCola at restaurants, just to name a few are seemingly nonexistent. To be sure, I did see these influences here and there, but not too often. It just very interesting to be in a place where a dictator is praised by the people, neighborhood narks proudly display their credentials above their doorways, and tourists are more or less forced to only eat in certain restaurants and travel in specific taxis.

Grafitti in Trinidad - this was a pretty common sight

Another interesting thing that was clear when I returned stemmed from a conversation I had with my mother. She asked if it was really poor, and by this I knew she meant the kind of poverty we'd seen on numerous trips to visit family in Mexico. It was strange because, yes there is poverty, but not the kind that leaves people begging in the street. It was clear that people weren't living in luxury, but at the same time they weren't destitute either. In fact I saw no homeless people when walking around the streets of Havana or Santiago or Trinidad. I didn't even see beggars, except the occasional woman or child asking for a bar of soap, a pen of all things, or the jeans I was wearing. Apparently these items are in demand? I read somewhere that they aren't really, but Americans always arrive with a stockpile, so the locals know to ask for it.

There are many anecdotes I will surely share about Cuba, like racing down the Malecon in Coco taxis after devouring some ice cream at the Coppelia, or being asked if I want pork, little pork, or big pork at a restaurant to explaining to our guide why a visit to the National Art School was a must, but I really just wanted to touvh on why Cuba is the most interesting place I have ever been...so far. Maybe it was the fact that I had to pre-arrange our entire trip with the Cuban government, which was a battle in itself, or the fact that 15 of us (13 of whom were women) got the most bizarre looks everywhere we went, or the guide who accompanied us and couldn't understand why we wanted to look at so many buildings (we actually ended up giving him a book about Cuban architecture in the end because he told us how much he had learned from us and enjoyed our company, claiming he felt we were more the tour guides than him) or the fact that Cuban food in the US is so good, but so bad in Cuban restaurants, or the families that welcomed us into their homes for lavish feasts. Yes, there are many stories to share and I will get to them all someday

The Latest Place

2005-12-21T20:05:00.000-05:00

This blog was really inspired by my latest trip, which included a brief stay in Paris before heading off to Tunisia for a week. Paris, without question is my favorite city outside of the United States. Some anti-French enthusiasts might not find that phrase comforting, but this is only my opinion after all. I have many reasons for feeling this way - mainly that I have spent more time in France (a good amount of that in Paris) than in any other foreign country. But this post isn't really about the magnificence of Paris, as I am sure many future posts will be.

Tunisia is honestly one of the most interesting places I have been. The culture in itself is interesting in that it is very much a part of the Arab world, but at the same time is heavily influenced by Italy, and more so France. I got the distinct impression that Tunisia doesn't get too many American tourists because every time someone finally figured out that my companions and I were American they looked shocked - and intrigued. The Tunisians, who are some of the friendliest people I have ever encountered, seemed to take us for Spaniards most of the time.

As Tunisia has not been completely bombarded by the tourism industry, many of its sights are great treasures, particularly the Roman ruins at Dougga, the Colosseum as El Jem, and the Kasbah at Le Kef. I am sure each of these will be its own blog entry at some point, but I have posted a couple of photographs for extra enticement.

A View of the Capitol Building at Dougga

The Colosseum at El Jem

A View From the Kasbah at Le Kef

After all my travels I thought it might be a bright idea to log my stories not only to remind myself of the crazy things I have seen and done, but also to share them with anyone who might be interested. That being said here is one Tunisian story to get started:

There are few things as cool as having a museum all to yourself. Okay, maybe not to yourself, but more like 200 of your closest friends. The provocation for going to Tunisia was to attend a conference on mosaic conservation, which was extremely educational and also provided an opportunity to learn something new. Part of the conference included a day trip to a few sights, such as various Roman ruins, Carthage - which is amazing, but really requires that you use your imagination, and the Bardo Museum. You might not have heard about the Bardo Museum, but it is like Tunisia's Smithsonian. It's housed in an enormous presidential palace that was actually never used, but that's another thing entirely.

Well, most of the conference attendees were leaders in the mosaic conservation field, so seeing as the museum houses some of the world's most intact mosaics, the place was open only to us for a private reception. We were welcomed by the museum's director, permitted to wander the museum at leisure and then treated to a reception in the grand hall hosted by the Minister of Culture who provided us with a welcome speech.

After his choice word (in French) covers were ripped off the food to reveal a lavish spread that included two lambs laid up on the table and being carved to our desire. I should mention here that Tunisia really isn't the pace for vegetarians. I don't think they know the term to be honest. I should also mention that I have never seen a group of grown adults scavenge so quickly for food. Now it could have been that we had been out all day and were starved, but I am not sure that's any excuse for clearing oodles and oodles of food in 20 minutes flat. There was no seconds. It was also disconcerting to see half-full glasses and plates of food rested on priceless statues and works of art by a group of people whose daily work activities include protecting and preserving such sacred objects from harm. Oh, the irony.

A great mosaic at the Bardo Museum

Bitten By The Bug

2005-12-15T15:39:00.000-05:00

I should really start by describing my first trip apart from my family, where I was on my own to gallivant as I pleased. I was 16 and I went to Finland for 3 weeks. Now I wasn't quite alone as I was traveling as part of an under-18 USA soccer team, but I was still more or less able to do as I pleased. It was my first true taste of international travel, where I was thrown into a culture I knew little about. Luckily this was offset by the fact that I lived with a host family for 2 weeks while training before the tournament, who game me a great introduction to the Finns, their customs, food and general lifestyle. How could you not love a place where every house has its own sauna?

Finland was a great experience, not only because we were celebrities for a brief moment with television and radio appearances, but also because I learned how to embrace things that were foreign to me, like: trying to sleep during the midnight sun (it's a strange thing when you leave a bar at 3am and it's light out), sitting in a scalding hot room surrounded by naked men and women until you can't take it anymore and jump into the freezing lake, followed by beating yourself with a tree branch to dry off; or realizing that when the lakes freeze over, people living on the islands just drive their car right across to get what they need in town; or that most Finns know more languages than I thought was humanly possible.

Even though we got our asses handed to us in the tournament, my interest had been piqued to travel more. Combine that with the spring break trip only a few months earlier to Mexico (that's a whole other story in and of itself), and I was ready to pack up my stuff into a small backpack and wander the globe for a while. Too bad it would be a few years yet until this dream would be realized.

Oh The Places We'll Go

2005-12-14T16:00:00.000-05:00

The following is the most up-to-date list of the foreign lands I have traveled, so it provides an indication of the places this blog might touch on in the coming posts. I have a goal of 50 countries before I'm 50, so seeing as I have a little over 23 years until that happens, I find this task easily attainable. I also want to visit all 50 US States, which might be more of a challenge, as who can really come up with an excuse to visit North Dakota (sorry to anyone who might be offended). The list is pretty much in order of when I visited, and marked if I've been more than once.

United States (well, that's too obvious)
Mexico (4x+)
Canada (2x)
Finland
United Kingdom
Italy (2x)
Vatican City (it actually is it's own country)
Austria
Slovakia
Hungary
Poland
Czech Republic (2x)
Germany (3x)
France (4x)
Netherlands
Denmark
Sweden
Luxembourg
Andorra
Switzerland
Spain (2x)
Monaco
Barbados
St. Kitts
Aruba
Venezuela
Australia
New Zealand
Belize
Guatemala
Morocco
Portugal
Brazil
Cuba
Bahamas
Belgium
Estonia
Latvia
Lithuania
Costa Rica
Tunisia

What's really amazing is that when I was 21 years old I could only mark off 5 countries, one of which was the United States, and another two that were my neighbors to the north and south, so I certainly hadn't traveled far. The first chance I got to really bounce around the world was when I studied abroad in France in the fall of 2000, and I used the opportunity to travel around for a couple of months before classes started. In the 5 1/2 years since then, I have added all the others. That's a little crazy. For the most part I have actually been to these places, they were not simply layovers in transit to other destinations. I have at least eaten a meal and/or spent 1 night in each of these places.

Well, maybe one or more of the places listed above will have peaked your interest and just maybe I will post something soon about an amazing thing that happened there.

Introduction

2005-12-14T12:03:00.000-05:00

I finally decided to do a blog, but I figured I had to make it something more to my character. Seeing as I just returned from a two week vacation in which I visited my 41st country, I thought I would make this blog about my various travel experiences. So breathe a sigh of relief, since it will not be about my decision regarding where to eat dinner tonight, or my latest spat with a friend/co-worker/significant other. I can assure you there will be no rhyme or reason to my posts, as I plan to write about random experiences I have had over the years: places I've been, interactions with the locals, dining experiences, great hotels I've found, strange coincidences, etc. I'm looking forward to the inevitable reminiscing that this little activity of mine will bring. In the meantime....happy reading.