Escaping Casa de PMS

I remember leaving Casa de PMS, bags packed, with Mary and Kendra, the only girls left in the house. The others were off to Playa Hermosa to surf for the day. I was supposed to go with them, but sometime the night before they changed the departure time from 11 AM to 8 AM. They informed me of this switch at 7:57 AM when I woke up after a big night with Anneke, Jimmy and the Kiwis. There was no way I could get ready for a full day of surf and aid my headache in just 3 minutes. So, I watched them leave, then took a long, cold shower to combat the humidity and the hangover.

Kendra relaxing while the other girls are away

Mary, Kendra and I walk to the earthy coffee shop down the street, Gato Negro. These girls were classy and I really enjoyed hanging out with them and getting to know them apart from the rest of the Casa drama. They were the only two I'd said goodbye to before leaving San Juan del Sur. They still had another day of rental left in the Casa, but I'd had enough.

I met up with Anneke at a smoothie shop in town, along with her friend Olivia from GREAT Britain (and she insisted on emphasizing the Great, which I love!)
Olivia is a character; she is a mix of ADD, creativity, adventure, free-spirit, and elegance. I was really looking forward to this trip already.

We went to the main grocery store in town to catch the chicken bus from San Juan del Sur to Rivas to make our way to Ometepe. If you've traveled in Central America and you aren't familiar with chicken buses, then you did it wrong.
I've never really wondered what happens to decommissioned US school buses, but now I know; they're sent south to be used as public transportation in Central America, aka the chicken buses. This was my first authentic Nicaraguan experience and I was both thrilled and terrified. I'd heard too many horror stories about backpackers on chicken buses, having their belongings stolen, being held up at gun point, and bags falling off the bus, never to be seen again. But Anneke and Olivia were pros and they showed me the ropes.

Classic Nicaraguan chicken bus -- bags on top, everyone and everything else inside

While we waited for the bus we dined on Nicaraguan street cuisine -- yucca mash, shredded pork, and cabbage salad wrapped in palms leaves. And, of course, this delicious concoction was eaten with our bare hands. Like I said, authentic Nicaraguan experience.
After the chicken bus to Rivas we took a taxi to the Ometepe ferry landing. Lucky us, today Lake Nicaragua had the biggest waves they'd seen all year. Once the ferry left the dock, passengers scrambled to the side rails, rain and waves in their faces and spew from their mouths. It was a rough ride out to the island but the three of us weathered the trip just fine -- slightly damp but spew free!

Olivia and the puppies at the Ometepe ferry landing

The ferry arrived at the dock in Ometepe and, since we arrived too late to catch the local bus, we hopped in another taxi to Buena Vista hostel recommended to us by Jimmy, our Aussie friend from the hostel in San Juan del Sur.
For the record, I DO NOT recommend this hostel! There were bugs everywhere, there was no air conditioning, the fan in the room was so loud we could barely sleep, the internet connection was spotty, and the "bathroom" was separated from the rest of the room by a (barely) hanging curtain.

We couldn't find a bar on the island, but the liquor store curb worked just as well that night!

But, we were out of the rain, we had a shower and a place to sleep, so for tonight, Buena Vista Hostel was home.

Salud!

Transitions

Pistol at Cardiff State Beach

I woke up today to sunny, blue skies in Cardiff, California. I look out my window and see various green scenery, a mix of ficus, eucalyptus, and palm tress.

My dog has taken up most of the bed, as usual, and my pillows have been thrown to the floor. It wasn't the best night's sleep, and this isn't the first time I've woken up this morning. This is just the way things are now.

Pistol, in her usual morning position

I lay in bed, and reach for my phone. 10:30 AM. The notification screen indicates that the rest of the world is already moving full speed ahead, with a dozen Facebook updates, messages, and reminders. My to-do list pops up and I see the long list of things I should do today. Should. But not have to do. I am single and unemployed, so aside from the occasional job interview, these days it doesn't seem like I have to do anything.

This used to be a good thing. I enjoyed not having the pressure of my 8 AM - 5 PM job. I loved waking up with no agenda, or a single item on a to-do list. Having no schedule, just a next destination, was so calming and second-nature.

So, why is it like this now?
I can think of 3 main reasons:

1.  I'm no longer in a foreign country. Everything is familiar here and finding adventures takes much more effort.
2.  I'm constantly burdened with financial stresses, not knowing how I'm going to pay my bills without a source of income. And finding a job is a job in itself, with it's own heap of stresses that inevitably go with it.
3.  I'm not surrounded by like-minded travelers, coming from all reaches of the world, with stories about where they've been and where they plan to go. I didn't have to go far to be social; I just had to go to the common area of the hostel and start a conversation with someone (and hopefully they spoke English). Socializing in North County San Diego is not easy. If I try to converse with a random person at a local coffee shop, people are usually cordial but short; wondering why this strange girl is talking to them. If I talk to a guy in a bar, I'm immediately labeled as being easy or desperate. If I talk to a girl in a bar, I get sized-up and judged on my appearance, then either ignored and laughed at, or get a short response and a turned shoulder.

Being social in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

I dearly miss traveling... so much that it aches sometimes to be back here in my slow, unchanging, antisocial, Southern California surf town.

But travel isn't always sunny skies and fun times. Like my first trip to Ometepe in Nicaragua, for example...

San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. Take 1!

Backpacking through Central America is a blur at this point. I landed in Managua November 21, 2013 and didn't come back to California until January 21, 2014. What happened between those dates... well, some of it I remember, some of it I wish I didn't, and the rest... I'll do my best to relay the highlights.

San Juan del Sur

My week-long pseudo-surf camp was a bust. The house we rented was amazing, but to fill it with 11 women... not the best idea. Personalities clashed, schedules conflicted, and I fled from the house 2 days early just to get away from it all. On a positive note, I got some really fun waves at Playa Maderas :)

Playa Maderas

Before I moved into Casa de PMS (aka the house of 11 women) I stayed at Yajure Hostel in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. For anyone interested, I do NOT recommend this hostel.

red foot bridge into town

First of all, it's on the opposite side of the red foot bridge from town, which makes for a very sketchy passing if you are returning to the hostel after dark. I was fortunate to not have any complications, mostly because I made sure to never walk alone and to have at least 3 other people walking with me after dark. But I heard some horrible stories about people trying to cross the bridge after dark and some locals were waiting for them, with knives or other weapons, and demanding money and valuables.
Secondly, it advertises air conditioning, but the hostel only runs ac during certain hours. If I remember correctly, the ac shuts off at 6am, which left me waking up sweaty and uncomfortable by 7am every morning. It was near unbearable.
Third, the hostel also advertises that they have lockers. In reality, these lockers are actually 6"x6" cubes on a wall outside of the actual dormitory and in one of the common areas. It was enough to lock up a wallet, passport, and maybe an iPhone, but there was no room for laptops or iPads.

socializing at the hostel

On the upside, I did have the chance to meet some really great people while I was there. There was this crazy Aussie, Jimmy, whose accent still makes me melt. There was an amazing group of Kiwis that I wish I could have continued to travel with. The first Albertan I've ever met, Tenille, who has convinced me that Alberta is the best province in Canada (or at least has the best people). And Anneke from Holland, who ended up rescuing me from Casa de PMS, inviting me to join her and Olivia (from GREAT Britain) on their journey to the next destination, Isla Ometepe in Lake Nicaragua.

One San Juan del Sur unofficial tradition that I highly recommend is the weekly pool crawl, Sunday Funday. It's probably the most blogged about event in Nicaragua, so I'll just give a few highlights. The outing begins at 2pm and goes until you can't go anymore, with the first destination being Pelican Eyes, an amazing resort on a hill overlooking all of San Juan del Sur. The view is amazing, but I have to admit, if you don't see it as soon as you get there, there's a good chance your vision will be too blurry to see it before you leave.

we'll call this the 'before' picture

Because as soon as you step in, it's very likely your eyes will quickly shift, first to the bar, and then all the crazy, sexy, half-naked hotties running around. Gawd I love this town!

the bar

If my liver would allow it, I think I could live here.

oh, the hotness!

After Pelican Eyes, the party moves to the Naked Tiger hostel, which has another pool and amazing view of the San Juan del Sur coastline. I could tell you more about this destination, but to be honest, I really don't remember much about it. And apparently there is another bar/pool/hostel that the crawl moves to after the Naked Tiger, but I didn't make it there, either. But! I had an amazing time!

sunset at Naked Tiger hostel

food! at Naked Tiger hostel

San Juan del Sur was a blast! I had an incredible time, met some amazing people, and despite my temporary disheartened state from being in Casa de PMS, my wanderlust was charged up again for my next destination: Isla Ometepe!

Sailing Cabo to La Paz, November 9-15, 2013

Monday, October 28, 2013 was one of the scariest days of my life. On that day I made the decision to give 2-weeks-notice at work in order to go sailing around the Baja peninsula. When I was first approached with the idea, I didn't think there was any way that I could make this sailing dream a reality. I had my 8am-5pm job, my dog to take care of, bills to pay, and a pathetic excuse for a savings account. Dropping everything to go sailing was a ludicrous idea... but so far, it's been the best decision I've made in a long time.

Flying into the airport at San Jose Los Cabos was an adventure in itself! Every other time that I've flown into a Latin American country the plane is packed with native Spanish speakers, and many times I've been the only white girl on the plane. This time the plane was glowing with white faces belonging to bodies adorned with Tommy Bahama-esque clothing and giant sun hats.

After landing and walking through the terminal, I was swarmed with men in polo shirts asking which hotel I was going to, which shuttle service I had booked, did I need a taxi, and did I want to buy a time-share. It was a bit more than overwhelming, so I clung to the nearest gringo, and while the salesmen assumed we were together, I managed to squeeze by with minimal harassment. While standing by a counter trying to figure out the shuttle situation, a man approached me and started speaking in Spanish. I was able to make out "muy fuerte" as he reached for my arms. I just laughed and kept looking for the shuttle schedule, but then another little man approached me, again only speaking Spanish. The few words I could make out were "por favor.... abrazo". Abrazo! I know that word! He wanted a hug! So I gave the little man a hug, which turned into a bit of a domino effect -- it seems many of the employees wanted un abrazo from the fuerte gringa. 

Once the hug-fest was over, (at least they are friendly people!) I found the shuttle going to Los Cabos Marina in Cabo San Lucas and was on my way.

I was the absolute last person in the shuttle, other than the driver, who conveniently spoke ONLY Spanish, and had no idea where the marina was. I finally saw an area that looked touristy, even though all of the shops had closed by his time. There was one building open -- an office for booking tours! He MUST know where the IGY Marina is! So I told the driver in my best Spanglish, "aquí está bien. Puedo caminar." With my giant dry-pack, I stumbled into the tourism office, smiled, and asked "Habla inglés?"

If he didn't answer yes, I don't know what I would've done. 

The Marina I needed was nearly a mile away, but at least I was going in the right direction now. I went to the dock and slip number that Gaël, the skipper and owner of the boat I was to be sailing on, had told me the boat was docked. There were so many boats packed into the docks, raft-up style, that I couldn't find the 40 ft X-Yacht, GravlaX. Luckily, a nice gentleman saw the confused look on my face and offered to help. Captain Mike Harris, delivery boat captain currently living in La Paz, let me keep my bag on his boat while I searched the Baja Ha-Ha awards ceremony for Gaël and his crew, which didn't take much time at all. 

After the awards ceremony, I wandered up to the bar (which consisted of 3 giant ice chests filled with Modelo, and a 'help yourself' service system) where I met many crew who had sailed in the Baja Ha-Ha Rally. Then 'last call' was made for the drinks, so I recruited Alan, crew member of s/v Diamond Girl, to help secure as many Modelos as possible -- our version of provisioning :-)

With my bag and everyone's pockets filled with cold beers (I'd managed to wrangle a few more crew members: Peyton, Kevin, Erling and Donovan), I returned to Captain Harris's boat to retrieve my dry-pack and drop it off at GravlaX. Captain Harris gladly joined us for a round of drinks (or 3 or 4...) while we hung out on the dock drinking our Modelos. After a few cold ones, Captain Harris turns to me and asks "How is it that you leave here, not knowing where you're going, not knowing where your skipper or boat are, and manage to come back with a bag full of beer and 5 guys?!"

My first night in Cabo was epic, from drink specials at The Drinking Team Sports Bar to synchronized dancing at Squid Roe, this town sure knows how to party. While the rest of the crew decided to continue getting their party-on, I decided to end the evening with tacos al pastor en la calle and a swim in the Marina.

After a night of getting acclimated to Mexican culture (sarcasm...) it was time to embark and do some actual sailing. The first day the skipper and I made our way from Cabo San Lucas to the Marina at San Jose Los Cabos. This turned out to be my favorite stop of the trip. The Marina is relatively new so there is not much development around it, which I love. The people are very friendly, the weather was perfect, and the area was a beautiful mix of ocean and desert.

It seemed that Montezuma decided to unleash his revenge on skipper Gaël, so we stayed an extra night while he battled with his insides. I, however, felt just fine ;-)

Over the next few days, Gaël gave me instruction, lessons, and even quizzed me on the sailing knowledge I was gaining on the trip. It was a great experience, and I'm happy to report that by the end of the trip, I successfully flaked the main!

I still have a lot to learn, and I definitely need (and want!) more experience being out at sea. The more that I learn about sailing and the more time I spend on a boat, the more I realize how much I love it.

We made our way to La Paz, where we rented a car and drove back to the airport in San Jose Los Cabos. I got my flight back to San Diego with only 3 days to prepare for the next leg of my Latin American adventure: Nicaragua.

 

this can't be it. is it?

The desk I sit at is an odd shape, making it uncomfortable and sometimes difficult to move from one task to another. My computer screen sits at a jaunty angle, the keyboard slides out on a tray that is just a little bit too high in relation to the height of my chair, and my elbows are constantly hitting the backrest of the chair as I type. Despite all of this discomfort, these are not the things that distract me and prevent me from being productive while I am here at work; instead, it is the constant day-dreaming of world travel that persuades my mind to neglect my priorities and obligations.  

 

 

My interest in travel began when I studied abroad in college – I know, how cliché and common. I had a terrible first year at University, which acted as a catalyst for me to get out of California and see what this world had to offer – because there HAD to be more to life than the constant demolition of hopes and dreams that I was experiencing at that time. I enrolled at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. It was great; I moved into a co-ed college just off campus (colleges in Australia are equivalent to dorms in the US). I made some great friends, had some awesome experiences (and some not-so-awesome ones as well), and came home a year later with a better knowledge of the world, an appreciation for other cultures, a smile on my face and newfound optimism for life. 

 

Australia Zoo

 

I went back to Australia, about 4 years later, after I had completed my BBA, but the real “travel bug” hadn’t hit me yet. I still enjoyed traveling, but my desire to travel didn’t develop until September 2012; 5 years after returning from my second Australian visit.

 

The little plane from San Jose to Tambor, Costa Rica

 

The bug was planted in March 2012 when I went to Costa Rica for a surf camp package that my Mom had bought for me as an early birthday present. I hate to admit it, but I was terrified to be flying to Costa Rica alone! I was a victim of social stereotypes and skewed government hype. In my mind, Central America was a hostile, scary, dangerous, and dirty place, full of drugs, guns, and kidnappings. I pictured me, a little blonde, white girl, stepping off the plane, welcomed by banditos pointing rifles and semi-automatics at me. Regardless of this perception, I packed my bags and flew south. When I arrived in Tambor on the Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica, the warm, humid air hit my face and from that point on, the smile upon it never disappeared.

 

The view from inside the plane of the "airport" landing strip in Tambor, Costa Rica

 

I fell in love with Central America and its diverse cultures. I have since returned to Costa Rica, taking my Mom down for Thanksgiving 2012, celebrating the holiday at a beach party, complete with bonfire. I have also visited (twice) Bocas del Toro in Panama. The last time I was there, I almost didn't come back to California. I was determined to find a way to not only return, but create a sustainable life for myself there. I wanted to live in Central America... or so I thought.

 

Thanksgiving, Costa Rica style

 

I came home, completely infected with Wanderlust. I sat at my desk and instead of running the constituent reports that I was tasked with, my internet browser was open to a dozen tabs, each with more information and blogs about traveling in Central and South America. This then spread to the Caribbean... and then the South Pacific... and Asia...

My viral desire to get up and go was unstoppable.

 

Our living room in Bocas del Toro, Panama

 

I began planning another surf trip with the girls I had met from the camp in Costa Rica, and we made arrangements to rent a house in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, for Thanksgiving week 2013. I was so excited to be visiting another country in Central America, but then I remembered how hard it is to leave at the end of the trip. It is truly heartbreaking, and each time I go back there, it is more difficult to leave.

 

Ticos & Ticas in Costa Rica

 

So, two weeks ago, I took the plunge. I quit my job.

 

Sunset in Santa Teresa, Costa Rica

 

I leave tomorrow for a week-long sailing trip from Cabo San Lucas to La Paz in Mexico, fly home with 4 days to do laundry, repack, and prepare my house to be rented before I head back to the airport to board my flight to Nicaragua. After the surf trip, I will be making my way from San Juan del Sur to Cartagena, Colombia (that's the plan, anyway).

I hope to keep this journal updated (I hate the term blog) to document the inevitably numerous adventures that will come.

 

Rope swing at Montezuma Falls in Costa Rica

Thanks for reading :-)

 

Hangin' with the locals