Diarios de Pie @southoftheborderslug - Tumblr Blog

Backpacking By the Numbers

4 countries 6,400+ km by bus 500+ km by ferry 20+ miles by foot (maybe less but I swear it felt like hundreds with a big pack in the heat) 8 taxis 4 chicken buses 1 chicken taxi (literally: 5 passengers plus 3 live chickens) 10 hostels 2 nights on buses 4 nights on boats 7 days without either a taco or baleada (easier than trying to keep track of the obscene combined running total) 1 whale shark 1,273 bug bites (approximation...possible exaggeration) 0 regrets

My Nicaragua: revolutionary art, my favorite rum, my favorite monkey, and the most staged tourist picture of my life with a Sandinista bazooka (the former guerrilla guide insisted I take this photo, I swear)

One Last Night in Tegucigalpa

...would probably be an awful movie, but is a pretty fine way to end my trip. It was an easy 7 hour (including border crossing) bus ride this morning from León and if this city has no special attraction for me, I am at least glad to be back in Honduras. My speed week in Nicaragua was great--lazy and unplanned, I stayed in only two cities (historic rivals Granada and León) and did almost nothing due to the oppressive heat. If I made it to a museum I counted the day a glorious success, and subsequently celebrated with a cold smoothie or raspado in the shade of the massive catedral. (A raspado is shaved ice that is absolutely drowned in dulce de leche and vastly improved by adding in your own healthy dose of Flor de Caña rum). Bring back in Honduras with a baleada in my belly and a slightly gentler sun on my tanned (grimy) face feels comfortable, and is a fine send off. I know I will return to Central America (too many sights left unseen this trip) and that makes leaving all the easier. So too does the idea of a proper shower, a home cooked meal, and an escape from these maldito mosquitoes!

After a tiring, sweaty day (a long hot boat tour on Lago Nicaragua followed by a longer hotter bus ride up to León) nothing beats the salty calorie bomb that is an evening meal of Nicaraguan street food. Gallo pinto, cerdo asado, and what they call an "enchilada" with a heaping amount of sour ensaladita (a vegetable!!). I apologize for the poor photo quality, I was too embarrassed to turn on the flash and reveal myself as the true tourist I am.

Nica, please

Less than 10 days left on this grand adventure and I'm feeling the time squeeze, but I can't say enough how much I love not having a set schedule. While on Utila I decided 2 weeks on a party/diving island was 2 much but enough time to squeeze in one last C.A. country. A friend from home is living in Managua so the plan (that I concocted on buses over the last two days, skimming the Lonely Planet I got from some Irish guy in a hostel) is to explore Granada and Leon before meeting up with her on the coast next weekend. Tried to make it all the way from Lago de Yajoa to Granada with my new Canadian buddy but after 13 hours of travel we decided to save some for tomorrow and stopped in Esteli. But hopefully starting early will get us through the dirty capital of Managua (C.A. capitals are consistently worth skipping over if not avoided completely) into Granada and the natural splendor that surrounds it. Swimming sounds good, boat tours sound fun, volcano boarding sounds...dangerous? exciting? Either way, food is cheap, bus rides are short, and the life of the backpacker is still the life for me.

"Lago de Yajoa, Honduras" my last stop in the country, before heading to one last country. A beautiful--but hard to reach--lake in the middle of the cloud forest that emerges out of the lowland jungle that is most of western Honduras. I had only one full day here, but it was enough to experience Pulhapanzak waterfall, some rainforest wildlife (not lucky enough for a quetzal though), the glory of a tropical thunderstorm, and some artisan brews at Lonely Planet's highly recommended D&D Brewery. It was a cool place, nice people, good location, and an apricot beer that my dad would appreciate.

"The sweet side of WWOOFing": wood-fired stovetop chocolate chip cookies. We surprisingly had all the ingredients and 'baking' them between two pans worked pretty well. The house special was one of these leftover in the morning with a fresh cup of the coffee grown on site.

Day 52

I have achieved backpacker nirvana and ascended to paradise: the island of Utila. Arriving on Sunday night I walked into the first dive shop I saw and after a few questions was signed up for an advanced open water certification. Early the next morning I was on a boat skimming above the azure waves and then donning a mask a slipping beneath them. Words cannot describe my feelings and pictures cannot accurately illustrate the colors and shapes of the alien world that is a flourishing reef. In the last 3 days I've been on 7 dives, including one at night, and swam with a turtle, a ray, an octopus, and the illusive whale shark. I'm utterly exhausted and completely thrilled. I've been sustained by a balanced diet of fruit, baleadas, and cookies (the cheapest things on the island) but my body is tired and my ears ache from pressure changes so I'm taking a day off before getting back under for a couple more fun dives before I leave. I could kayak the many coves or go for a long snorkel swim, but if its as hot tomorrow as it has been, all my plans may dissolve into one massive hammock nap.

The Island of Utila: off the north coast of Honduras, populated by the strangest blend Creole people (British, African, Spanish and Caribbean flavored) and known as the cheapest spot in the western hemisphere to get scuba certified, Utila is a backpacker's paradise. Seriously, it's a paradise. Its perfectly warm and sunny all day, the water is so clear and blue you want to drink it, and the reef life is spectacular. Its a damn good thing I already have a plane ticket home, or else I'd be in danger of becoming one more of the hundreds who come for a week, and stay for a year. The lazy haze of island air fills your lungs like a soporific steam, and unless you escape the hot sun beneath the cool waves, the most activity you can muster is a walk to the baleada stand or flopping into a hammock. I just got PADI Advanced certified in the last 3 days, so I'll be taking a lazy day tomorrow, but then it's back on the tank and into the reef at least once more before Wilson and I build our raft and escape.

"La Feria de San Isidro" aka Honduras’ Carnaval, the annual festival in La Ceiba on the north coast marked by a parade by day and a raging dance party at night…supposedly. The parade started a good hour and a half late, after the slowest procession ever of soldiers and horses. Then came some of the more typical floats I was expecting (bedazzled drag queens, bodacious bikini-ed dancers, and unhappy children wearing heavy costumes) but the pace didn’t pick up. After an hour and a half (packed in the sweaty crowd under a sweltering sun) only 9 floats had passed, so we bailed for a rest before the night time festivities. The music was there, but the dancing was somewhat lacking…unfortunately the pickpocketing wasn’t as well. Lost my wallet (luckily I’d taken out my credit and scuba cards) and I went to bed extra sweaty and more than a little bitter. Waking up to pineapple juice and pupusas helped with the latter at least

Someone said mango.

On the Road Again

Farewell Leadership Center. Farewell life of ease and eggs and beans. Farewell beautiful river and forest walks, exchanging culture through bilingual talks, dodging big spiders and fire-bite ants, my new garden beds and freshly sown plants. I once again have a backpack upon my back and a wide open country laid before me, just how I like it. First stop is La Ceiba, on the north coast, to hopefully catch the carnaval-style Feria de San Isidro, a raging party known for its fanciful floats and ambiguity of a set date. If it is this weekend then I'm in for a wild time--quite the opposite of my last month--before taking the ferry up to the island of Utila. My schedule is extremely open-ended, but I'm pretty sure it involves taking advantage of the cheapest scuba opportunity in the western hemisphere. But I don't want to get ahead of myself. For now, it just feels good to be truly traveling de nuevo, and to be able to look forward to more variety in my diet. Did someone say mango?

"Al Fondo de la Cascada" the hike to the base of the amazing waterfall previously pictured, that I have now done twice (and plan on doing once more before I leave). A steep climb down a dry creek takes you to the river and some of the best rock hopping and boulder clambering I have ever experienced in my illustrious career of both of those sports. The river is hemmed in by sheer rock cliffs covered in a vine infested jungle that is so completely different from the pine forest I live in just 2 miles away. The prize at the end is the majestic fall of water itself (our guesstimate of 95' still stands) and the pool at its feet. I opted for getting my soak directly from the source and took the slippery rock path that leads behind the sheet of water itself for the most powerful shower I've ever had. The entire trip takes 6 hrs with a slow moving group or less than 3 by myself. And words cannot describe the awe inspiring beauty of the whole canyon when experienced al solo. It's like walking into the heart of darkness and finding a rainbow. Or a waterfall. I don't really understand similes. *please excuse the selfie, I hope it shall be the last, but I really wanted definitive proof that I had made it (naysayers threw a lot of doubts my way, especially when I told them I did it so fast by myself)

Day 42

Not that I'm counting--I definitely had to look at a calendar to figure that out. Life is good here at The Leadership Center (my wwoof spot) but winding to a close. After 3 and a half weeks of sedentary existence I will be moving on this Friday, heading north to La Ceiba and then to the island of Utila. I don't have plans or timelines more than I want to scuba dive and I need to fly out of Tegus on 6/11. My first WWOOFing experience has been an amazing one--being a gardner, English tutor, and handyman while having enough free time to read, run, and explore the amazing river nearby--but I'm also ready to travel again. My backpack has been looking lonely sitting in the corner of my room, gathering dust. This place has been almost too comfortable, and I'm ready to get back out of this zone and throw myself at the mercy of the traveler gods once again. And after less than 3 weeks of that (which will fly by I'm sure) I will be very ready to return home, to family, friends, and the freedom of the familiar. But now is not the time to wax poetic...but it is time to wax on these nutella cookies I just made on the wood stove!

Feliz Dia de la Mama! Mother's Day in Honduras is celebrated on the same Sunday as in the US but today there was a celebration put on by the primary school in the nearby community (a 45 minute walk away). It started well over an hour late (otherwise known as "on time" in Honduras) and didn't end until the sweltering sun switched to a warm drizzle, and featured constant technical difficulties and awkward pre-teen singing performances...in other words: a beautiful ceremony! There was more Jesus adoration than actual mother love, but I guess that's just part of the culture in this deeply religious country. Shoutout to my own amazing mom who I miss very much, and not just for her cooking. (Although while we're on the subject, I have a growing list of foods I need when I get home). Happy mother's day mom, love you! My advice to everyone: go hug your mom.

The Bugs...They Bite

I have so many bug bites on my feet (my feet!!) I can't even count them. Tiny bites, big bites, raised bites, even inception bites (bites within bites). The most itchy ones are from mosquitos, but the more prevalent are from ants--little black ones that easily outnumber people on our small ranch 10 billion to 1. Partly its my fault; I can't handle the heat so I wear flip flops most of the time, exposing my tasty foot flesh to those who would make a meal of it. But when I'm working I wear sneakers and tall socks and that's when the ants make their presence known. The little feckers swarm over my socks and clamp down on the first bit of bare skin. Pretty darn painful, and I haven't even experienced the wrath of the scary red ones or the behemoth blacks. To add a little diversity to mix of misery are these flying insects so tiny you can hardly see them but with a sizable bite that more than makes up for it. I'm pretty good with dealing at pain, especially just a low incessant itchiness, but this is definitely at the top of my list for things I will not miss when I leave.

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