What Happened in Africa?

Africa is a place of such contrasts.  Its wild and untamed beauty is often masked by the associations we make from western headlines of violence and poverty--and there's no ignoring that that side of it exists, but it's hard to put the words to paper and to describe the kind of experience it was... 

Fia and I met for coffee the other day to reminisce... 

The highlight reel of all the things I never want to forget:

• The image of the isolated airport, so remote, so middle-of-nowhere, and so green--symbolic of the adventure that we'd soon begin
• The mist soaked walk through the falls
• Nami Nami peddlers and learning how to deal with them
• Appreciating the moment for what it is
• Befriending the street hawkers
• That moment when the danger became real in the Compound
• The shock of Bongo getting arrested
• Watching the World Cup game with the raucous crowd at Shoestrings Hostel
• Seeing the wildlife up close
• Cruising down the Zambezi
• The surprise luxury of Botswana
• That first night by the fire
• The 5am starts, and rolling that muddy tent...
• Acclimating to the funky truck water
• Eating lunch on the side of the road
• Laughing it off and adopting the expression, "T.I.A."
• A reminder of what it means to live simply
• The giddy, unsuppressed, uncontrollable laughter
• Tracking rhino Discovery Channel Style with Andy
• Getting up close and personal with a pride of lions--the tension of wondering if we were all going to become lion feed

• Our Mission Impossible stunts and the shenanigans we pulled to crash the volunteer party
• Summer camp style pranks with the Aussie guys
• Buying cashews on the side of the road
• Laying out all night in the hammocks
• Drinking wine on the porch and watching the sunset 
• That tragic night--18-years-old--lost to the sea...recognizing the fragility of life
• Riding in the back of a death trap wind tunnel
• Our visit to the orphanage--a reminder that we do what we can, but it's never enough
• Getting a better understanding of real African politics and how things work 
• Midnight yoga
• Waking up to the sound of the surf outside our bungalow, and going for a morning run on the beach
• That night at the bar--Sean asking "if God would be there"
• Whale watching by speed boat
• Visiting the Soweto township and realizing that this is someone else's reality
• The experience of the Apartheid Museum
• Learning about the world through the eyes of others
• Running to make our flight...would it be a proper trip for the two of us if it didn't involve us madly running through the airport?
• An experience polarized by Toronto--the stark contrast between two worlds

Puerto Rico--Back to where it all began

I still have vivid impressions of my first airplane ride...I was eight-years-old, and my family was headed to Puerto Rico.  Since then, I've always associated airports with that feeling of electric excitement--a gateway to destinations unknown.  I still store captured images of that magical trip to PR--the tiny frogs that sounded like birds, the strange air that felt stuck (my first experience with humidity), the coconut my dad tried to open by running over with the rental car, the fancy hotel, and the old streets of San Juan.  This trip was special because I'm pretty sure it's where I caught the travel bug that has since festered and grown greedy with need, causing me to feel restless every so often...  

So it only seems fitting that 16 years later, I'm back to where it all began...I can't believe how much things have changed, or maybe it's that I see things differently than from through my eight-year-old lens...

The beauty of Puerto Rico is still as I remember it, but of course much about the island has changed.  I feel a deeper connection with the culture now that I can appreciate the historic context and intermix with some of the local people in Spanish that I've acquired along the way.

This trip marks some new memories...trying to locate the house we rented in the middle of the barrio without street signs, having breakfast on the balcony overlooking the ocean and cemetery (weird mix), munching on fresh BBQ along the pork highway, living on Culebra Island, diving and snorkeling in the aqua colored reefs, jumping in the ocean on a full moon night with newfound friends, returning to the old streets of San Juan, and feeling at ease with island life.

Bikes and Wine

Wine tasting on bikes--what a novel concept!  The town of Mendoza is outfitted perfectly for this activity.  Timmy and I rented bikes for the day from Mr. Hugo's Bike Shop.  It's 50 Argentine pesos for the day, which gets you a map of the wine route and the use of a rickety old bike.  

The late start had us determined to see as many vineyards and do as many tastings as time would allow. We stopped at a food and liquor tasting first, then it was on to the vineyards.  We toured a working vineyard and got to see some of the inner workings of the wine making process.  Then we sampled many glasses of good Argentine wine.  I lost count as the distinctions of each place seemed to blur together past the bucolic scenery. 

The police in Mendoza are very tourist friendly.  Since wine tasting on bikes is such a common activity, they patrol the area looking for wine tasters that have had a few glasses too many, and offer rides to the riders and their bicycles.  When Timmy and I had trouble finding one of the vineyards, a police officer on a motorcycle offered his help.  He ended up giving us a police escort--leading the way on his motorcycle in slow speed so that our bikes could follow--right up to the front doors of the wine tasting room!

At our second to last stop we met Wally, a crazy, fun-loving Canadian from the Yukon.  It was clear Wally came to Mendoza with two goals: to get a tan and to get as drunk as possible while still retaining the ability to ride a bike.  Wally turned everything into a big party.  We joined him and the two girls from New Zealand, shared a bottle or two at the next stop, and marveled at the view of the sun-drenched vineyards from the patio.





Wanting to savor the moment, we lingered a little too long at the last place, and had to race back to return our bikes to Mr. Hugo's on time.  When we got there, Mr. Hugo was throwing a party of his own for all the people who had rented bikes from him.  We sat in his yard, talking, laughing, and drinking some cheap table wine supplied by Mr. Hugo who made everyone feel like family. 

San Telmo Sunday Market

I'm back in BA--and at the right time--just in time to see the streets come alive for the Sunday Market in San Telmo. The streets are littered with blankets of rasta jewelry for sale, food vendors selling baked bread, mate, and fresh squeezed juice, and an antiques market in the public square selling everything from old buttons to chandeliers. Beautiful music floods the streets and tango dancers perform for the crowds. There are enough street performers to make Venice Beach seem like a sideshow.

I can't help but smile, getting swept up in the festive mood of San Telmo. This is the Buenos Aires that I've been waiting to see!




I try to navigate the busy streets with the Australian girl I just met, and we go in search of the fresh fruit stalls. The only thing that could interupt the festivities of the day is bad weather. It starts to pour and we duck into the antiques market to wait out the storm. The tables get folded up, the blankets of jewerly wrapped up, the musicians begin to pack up their instruments, people start scatter like ants--And just like that, the party disappears.

When it rains in Buenos Aires, it really pours! I'm kind of disappointed, but at least I still got to catch a glimpse. Maybe when the rain calms down, I'll get off the computer, and take another look around.

Montevideo, Uruguay

I packed my small daypack and took a three-hour bus from Colonia to Montevideo whose crowded urban sprawl is such a dramatic change from the quiet life in little Colonia. I fall asleep on the bus, and suddenly I'm surrounded by the noise of traffic and car horns. Montevideo's terminal surprises me--it's one of the biggest bus stations I've ever seen (it's also connected to a huge shopping mall).

I head over to the tourist information area, and ask the lady what I can see in Montevideo in ten hours. She starts circling things on the map, telling me excitedly about the big modern shopping mall they have on the edge of the city. She starts rattling off expensive Western brands, and hands me back the map.  I thank her, and smile politely, hoping that it conceals my disappointment.  I didn't come all the way to Uruguay just to shop at stores we have back home.  Instead, I opt to do some exploring on my own.

I exit the station and look around for the intercity buses. I spot one that is marked "Ciudad Viejo." Sounds interesting.  I hop on the bus and hope it will take me somewhere that isn't a mall. As we pull away from the station, the big windows pass views of skyscrapers, old stone buildings, and street markets.  I have no idea where I'm going or where I'll end up, but I'm excited!

Colonia de Sacramento

A short ferry ride from Buenos Aires (1-3 hours) will take you into Colonia de Sacramento, Uruguay. Colonia is a charming little Portugese town officially declared a world heritage site by UNESCO. The cobblestoned streets, fortified walls, and old churches make it seem like you have stepped back in time. There are no traffic signals or stoplights in town. The pace of life is relaxed and mellow--a world away from the chaotic movement of Buenos Aires or even Montevideo, Urugauy's busy capital city.

Another Chinatown

For Mom and Dad: Yes, there is a Chinatown in Argentina.

On almost every family vacation I can recall, the first thing my parents want to see is Chinatown. And there seems to be one in even the unexpected places across the globe. This one is just outside of Buenos Aires, right off of the Belgrano train stop.

So, Mom and Dad, this picture is for you:



It kinda looks like all the others.

Train to El Tigre

For about 80 cents (U.S.) you can catch an hour train ride from Buenos Aires to El Tigre. It's a great day trip to escape the hectic city, and service runs fairly frequently from the Retiro train station.

El Tigre is like Tom Sawyer Island. It's a city that straddles the delta on el Rio de la Plata, and the waterways are the main thoroughfare. Big boats, little boats, and barges that pick up garbage go up and down the river. You can buy fruit and vegetables from the small boats, or watertaxi your way down through town.

All of the houses have their own makeshift little docks, and there are campsites right along the river. People were fishing, swimming, playing volleyball, and doing bellyflops off the small docks. El Tigre is a fun little town to see if you have an extra day in Buenos Aires, especially on the weekends when they have there big markets.

Recoleta Cemetery

The famed Recoleta Cemetary in Buenos Aires is the burial spot for some of Argentina`s rich and famous.

I`ve always found cemeteries to be a bit creepy, but this one is actually one worth visiting. The elaborate tombs and mausoleums are really an incredible sight. There are narrow passageways that lead to even more ornate burial rooms. It's like a small city of graves, which sounds a little morbid, but it's actually more like visiting a museum with all the marble statues and Gothic-style architecture. The rich and famous went through great lengths to try and outdo each other, so you can imagine the intricacy of all the fancy tombs.



The last plots in Recoleta filled up in the 70s. In some graves, whole families are buried together. Some of the mausoleums have clear panels of glass that you can see right through to the coffin...those were a little creepy.

In Recoleta the dead are not forgotten--instead they're visited by hundreds of tourists every day.

Otto Meiling: the mountain outpost

We heard about a party up at Otto Meiling, and decided to join in on the fun. Otto Meiling is a remote mountain outpost near the tronador outside of Bariloche. The little refugio was celebrating its 35th anniversary, which meant a lot of locals and a party somewhere up in the mountains. It sounded good to us!

Katie, Andy, and I planned our meals and stocked up on food from the grocery store then went back to pack our bags. After Torres Del Paine, the weight of my pack hardly seemed like anything.  


The next morning, a two-and-a-half hour bus ride brought us to the trailhead, and we quickly set off for Otto Meiling. The switchbacks looped back and forth and there were steeper short-cuts to shave time off the main trail--we almost always chose the shortcuts.

The hike was steep, with a 1900 Km elevation gain. It was a tough trek, but we were rewarded with incredible views and perfect weather.

When we reached Otto Meiling, there was a tiny tin lodge. It looked so remote sitting on top of the mountain surrounded by nothing but snow and the open air. We were above the clouds and the treeline, so there were perfect 360 degree panoramic views of everything above and below, set against a perfect blue sky.

We laid out on the rocks watching the sun go down, and did a little reading. I don't think we could've asked for a more perfect setting.



A live band came to play for the party. They managed to haul their amps, guitars, microphones, and drums up the mountain somehow, so we were rewarded by live music on top of the mountain. The backdrop was surreal--it made it feel like we were in a ridiculous music video.



This was one of those rare moments that you just want to bottle and hold on to the memory of forever. The audience kept singing along in Spanish and English. Everyone was caught up in the moment, and nothing existed except for the lyrics and rhythmic melody. The band was very talented. Nobody could stop smiling.  In more ways than one, it felt like we were on top of the world.



Dinner for the three of us that night was prepared mostly by Andy. (It's so nice when a guy can cook.) He made chile con carne with rice, and we devoured it along with the two boxes of red wine that we packed with us up the mountain.

Later that night, we brought the leftover wine with us outside and sat atop the rocks looking up at the blanket of stars that had lit up the night sky. We talked about how special it was to be part of the entire experience, and watched as a couple of shooting stars shot overhead.  

At night the little cozy lodge was transformed into a dance floor, and we danced along to the vibrant latin music and raegaton.

So many people had turned up for the party that it made the sleeping arrangements interesting, but it only added to the experience. Up in the tiny attic was where the 70 plus people were supposed to sleep. Backpacks had to be left outside, and mattresses were laid out completely covering the floors. It was two mattresses for every three people (a good thing we had come as a threesome), but it was basically 70 strangers sleeping shoulder to shoulder in one massive slumber party. Getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night was tricky though...

Small Circuit Bike Ride

One of the best ways to see Bariloche and all its splendor is to rent a bike for the day. We chose to do the 40 km circuito chico, which makes a loop around the mountains and lakes area.

The bikes we rented were really well-equipped. They had excellent brakes, good tires, and the rental company even provided us with locks, helmets, and an emergency repair kit.

Katie (England), Andy (England), and I all met on the 28-hour bus ride from El Calafate and decided to do the bike ride together. I was feeling pretty good, taking in the pretty scenery and cruising right along...then came the hills...and I quickly realized 40 K was not going to be as easy as I thought. My quads were feeling it after the first killer hill.

We were so lucky to have such good weather, and the viewpoints were amazing! The best part was flying down the hills, feeling the wind in our faces, and the surge of adrenaline as we kept picking up speed on the endless downhills. It made the struggle of going up the massive hills worthwhile. It was also a good thing our bikes had such responsive brakes.



There are all sorts of different little trails for day hiking and camping, and our bikes gave us the freedom to see what we wanted. We biked to different lake areas, and hiked to some spectacular miradors. We even made our way to the famous Llao Llao hotel, an exclusive place at the top of the hill given the prestigious title of "hotel of the world."



We also biked through Colonia Suiza (the Swiss town). The wooden handcrafted buildings were so quaint, and we had the best ice cream.

Bariloche, Argentina

Bariloche is a small Northern Patagonian town set in the mountains over a sparkling lake. In the winter time it transforms into a bustling ski village. In the summer, there's an array of outdoor excursions to choose from.


The town has a heavy Swiss influence that is noted in the architecture and the delicious chocolate. The streets are lined with choclaterias and ice cream shops. I met up with a bunch of other travelers from the hostel and we did a midnight chocolate run. There are so many things to love about this place.  

28 hours of contemplation

It's 28 hours from El Calafate to Bariloche--my first marathon bus ride. Thank goodness the buses in Argentina are so luxurious and comfortable. Even in the semi-cama class, the seats recline way back. It's more comfortable than flying.

What do you do on a bus for 28 hours? Sleep. Talk. Contemplate. Eat. Listen to iPod. Watch pirated movies that they show on the bus. Then contemplate some more...

My roommate, Andy (England), from the hostel in El Calafate happened to have the seat next to me--a nice coincidence. We got to know each other better on the bus, which made the 28 hours more bearable. We talked, shared food, played rummy, and I taught him how to play Big 2.

Occasionally the bus stops in random towns to refuel and everyone gets a 10-minute break to stretch or go buy food. We made one weird stop in this tiny town with nothing but dirt roads and dust. It was our longest stop (30 minutes). I think our bus driver wanted pizza from the one restaurant in town. The rest of us stood around snacking, and waiting for the tumbleweed to go by.

Puerto Montt

From Chile

Puerto Montt is port city--think Long Beach, but slightly dirtier and with a German influence. I wasn't expecting a lot from Puerto Montt because it's really just a gateway for Patagonia, and I knew before my arrival that there wasn't going to be a whole lot to do.

I couldn't get an online reservation for a hostel (the only places left were overpriced private rooms), so I decided to just wing it. I hopped off the bus, got my bearings, and found a lady who owned a hospedaje. I did end up getting a very nice private room--and one that fit my budget.

I spent two days in Puerto Montt wandering the city and found it to be kind of charming. Sure, it was different from Pucon, but I got to interact more with locals. I listened to street music, bought some hippie jewerly, did laundry for the first time in two weeks, and tried to get a feel for the city.

I also met Ivan, a local artisan who does amazing work with leather. He makes these intricate works of art by burning pictures into leather and wood. We had a nice conversation in Spanish. It was weird--he mentioned something about sangre (blood) that I couldn't quite understand, until I realized it was his roundabout way of asking what my hertitage was.

From Chile

In Chile, most of the other travelers I meet think I'm Canadian, and the Chileans think I'm Japanese. And sometimes I just roll with it...The security guard had the biggest smile on his face when he greeted me with, "Konnichiwa!" Anyway, I learned a lot about what it's like living so close to the end of the world from Ivan. He told me about his life, and I told him some things about California. He made me a little leather keychain with my name carved in it as a gift to remember him by.

From Chile

Puerto Montt is also the place where I've had the best meal in Chile--a superbly prepared salmon cerviche (and it was only $5 USD). It was delicious! Other than that, the food here in Chile hasn't been all that special (apart from the fresh fruit juices). I'm holding out for Argentina.

Pucon

From Chile

I knew right when I got off of the bus that I was going to like Pucon. Santiago was an okay city. I loved the subway system and ease of getting around, but in the end, a city is just a city like every other city.

Pucon is a mountain town in the Chilean Lake district. The landscape is dramatically different and the smog-free air has that fresh mountain scent. It reminded me of Boquete, but slightly larger. The big volcano in the picture is the backdrop for the town, and no matter where you are, you can always spot it.

I met Tseela (from Israel) and Martin (from England) at the hostel, and the three of us hit it off from the beginning. Tseela and Martin are both software engineers. Martin has been to almost every country on earth...okay, well a lot of countries. He's been to all seven continents, but still has more to explore. I guess if you have that travel bug in you, it never really goes away.

After walking around town, we went for a swim in the volcanic lake. The beach is really rocky and the lake water is frigid, but clear--perfect for a swim in the mid-afternoon heat.

Martin and I spent the afternoon playing in the water, and enjoying the reprieve from the intense sun. I learned that he loves to scuba, and that he's an extensive traveler. His pattern is something like this: work continuously for a year to a year and a half and take four to six months off to explore someplace new. You would kind of think by now, after all that traveling, nothing would be able to impress him anymore. But then, when splashing around in the lake, we were both equally in awe of our surroundings, so I guess it never gets old. You can see a million beautiful things, and not lose that sense of wonder. I hope I never do...

the many colors of valparaiso

From Chile

From Chile

The charming neighborhood of Conception, set in the hills, is very San Franciscan with its colorful buildings, political art, and stacked housing.

VIew from the Top

Santiago, Chile

Wandering in Santiago

When I first landed in Santiago, I was greeted by a barrage of "Hey Lady, where do you need to go?" and "Hey Lady, I take you where you need to go." A polite "No, gracias," was not enough to fend off the determined cabbies and shuttle drivers who persisted in following me until I made a dash for the restroom. With my unmistakeable backpack and weird shoes, they could smell tourist all over me. It was a little overwhelming at first, but I knew exactly which bus I needed to take and had somewhat of an idea about how to get to my hostel.

It's weird orientating yourself in a new city. Your senses are so raw because you're trying to take everything in...the smells, the sights, the people, the environment, the colors...

The beauty of Santiago didn't strike me immediately. After I settled into the hostel, I decided to take a walk to get acquainted with the city. I started walking, and it wasn't until halfway through my journey, when the hidden beauty of Santiago really started to surface. I don't know how else to describe it but as a thriving metropolitan with hidden charms.

In Plaza del Armas and the centro part, there is an urban beat...the streets surrounding that area are teeming with people. It's easy to get lost in the crowd and nice to people watch, but even I'll admit to feeling a little agoraphobic among the sea of people. The other parts of the city are much quieter. And it becomes easier to spot Santiago's hidden charms...the green space...the mix of European and Latin architecture, the public squares, the cobblestone streets, and the mix of friendly people.

I only wandered to one questionable area, but quickly left. And even that wasn't so bad. There was a farmer's market/swamp meet thing going on, but when the neighborhood noticebly changed, I took that as my cue to leave.

So far, so good. I'm liking the balmy Chilean weather--it feels like California in the summer time. I'm happy it's not humid. And I love that the sun stays out until 9:30!

Lost memories

So somewhere between Costa Rica and Mexico City, I lost my sketchbook/journal. It's floating somewhere out there in Central America...

I've had that journal-sketchbook since before my study abroad trip in China, and now it's lost. All those captured thoughts and memories...gone...It had special sentimental value to me, but it's now probably sitting in some lost-in-found crate at one of the airports.

I need to learn to keep better track of my things. The damage tally for this trip? Not too bad. 1 pair of sunglasses (that I really liked) and 1 sketchbook/journal (irreplaceable). Still, it could be worse. I guess I'll start a new one...