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rissaroundtheworld · 7 years

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Zen and the Art of Boat Maintenance: A life update which does not include too many feelings

Its been a bit since my last blog post, but I have an excuse! Two actually. The first is that I have been VERY busy, until I stopped being busy, and then I was VERY lazy. The second is that a few weeks ago marked my travel-aversary. A whole year gone! I began to write a blog post full of all kinds of feelings on the matter - I wrote more than two full pages, single spaced, to be exact. It was about how my life had taken all kinds of unexpected turns, how grateful I am to have been able to create a new, better path for myself in life, and all the things that I gained by losing my former life. And before you ask, yes, I am aware that I’m starting this post with atrocious grammar. See what I said earlier about my laziness? Its real.

I wrote two pages, stopped because I was tired or had to do something or got bored, and then couldn’t bring myself to go back to it. Maybe I’ll revisit it one day, but here’s the summary: life was really shitty for awhile, I made a huge and terrifying decision to leave a year ago, it was (very) difficult at times but I learned a lot about myself and about the world and its the best thing I have ever done. And now I’m more self-actualized or whatever and I have better stories. Therapy would have been cheaper but man this has been more fun!

So, in lieu of my feelings-y post, I have decided to write a regular old life update to the tune of my normal posts: nonsensical, with minimal feelings. A true reflection on how I’m trying to live my life!

My last post ended with the conclusion of an incredibly fun charter, followed by the hand (boat) delivery of ice cream cartons from the Kunas. Could life possibly get better? Spoiler alert: it did. Since then we’ve had several more charters, and a LOT more fun. A little backstory: for anyone who hasn’t been to the boat, which is 100% of my reader base except former charter guests and Christie, its an owner’s version Lagoon 380. What this means is that there is a hull entirely dedicated to the “owner,” and now used exclusively by charter guests, with a queen berth and private head. The other hull has the two other berths and another head, and it’s where we sleep. Here’s a snapshot of my charter prep strategy: about two days before each charter I morph into a psychopath and completely scrub the hull where the (two) guests sleep; the day before I scrub the kitchen and decks, and then I throw anything I can’t find a home for/can’t be bothered to clean into the other hull. Which is usually a LOT of stuff. I do not allow guests to look because its an embarrassment of epic proportions, but it works. Until four people come on board.

Cue panic. I’ve discovered that I panic much more easily these days, which may have something to do with nearly a decade of not being able to panic about anything ever without having to deal with a counter-panic infinitely worse than whatever the original problem was. But I digress. Now I had to clean BOTH hulls! I know, you’re all very sympathetic. In all honesty, it was a lot of work, but I was really excited about this charter. You see, we have to do a fair amount of communication with our guests beforehand. It begins with general information: making sure our guests understand the logistics of getting to us, checking about dietary restrictions (more of the pain of meal planning in another post), inquiring about general interests. Guests often have many questions as well, since most of them haven’t been on a trip like this before. The point is that, when you charter with us, we get to judge you via email beforehand. This is entirely unfair and we’ve been wrong plenty of times, but sometimes we’re right in the best way possible. This was the case for this charter. I had a good feeling from the very beginning, but then I got an email with this quote: “We all love sushi, no dietary restrictions for us. We will be bringing some tequila after hearing that you make a mean Margarita, do we need to bring other ingredients besides the tequila?” Yep. I knew we would all be best friends, and I was right. We drank far too many margaritas (re-named Marissa-ritas, Tracie you had better start calling them this), played games (they brought their own, scoring an infinite number of points with me), ate great food, listened to killer jamz, saw amazing sunsets… we really had so much fun. On our final night we ran out of tequila, but no one missed a beat when we substituted rum into the newly named “rum-aritas.” We put out our underwater green light to attract ocean life, and were treated with a spotted eagle ray who seemed to just want to hang with us (or she smelled the freshly cooked Mackerel). We named her Rachael Ray. After a “few” rum-aritas, I looked over to see Nate in full dive gear jumping into the ocean. In the name of camaraderie, or rum, or both, the rest of us dove in after him, which was the start of my very first night dive. Rachael Ray let us swim right up to her for quite some time, and when she tired of us, we took turns diving down around the green light to investigate what was beneath it. It was, most definitely, one of the coolest things I’ve done in a long time.

Our guests left, and you might think this is the end of the story because how could things be better? But things continued to go up! Prior to the four person charter, Nate and I discussed the possibility of bringing on another crew member. This seemed like a good choice for two reasons: one, when guests are on board I work from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed. I love what I do and it honestly doesn’t feel like work, but the idea of having a helping hand made me pee my pants just a little bit. Maybe I would be able to sit down and get to know our guests! Or not finish each day feeling like my legs may be broken, watching the skin on my hands peel off and disappear into the ocean! Two, after being on a boat with one other person in the middle of nowhere for six months now, I’ve discovered that I like to talk. A lot. Nate... not so much! I needed someone to talk to, and he needed someone for me to talk to. And just like that, Heather was on board, and she and I were immediate best friends. In addition, she did the dishes! And lots of other things! She made me realize what a shitty volunteer I was while I was traveling, because she worked HARD. She was great company, she knew all of my music (a BIG plus), she tolerated my obsession with games, and she enjoyed Balboa as much as Nate and I do. It was a match made in heaven. As we prepped for the next charter, Nate and I couldn’t figure out why we had so much free time, or why we felt so relaxed. We were paranoid that we had forgotten something, but in all reality… having crew took such a huge load off. We were SO grateful, and I was able to enjoy our next charter (a young Dutch couple who insisted on drinking beer and playing Cards Against Humanity every night… not a problem on this boat!), SO much more!

The charter ended and we once again walked away with new friends. But, now, it was time for something slightly less exciting: during all this fun, there had been a small (huge) problem. Both engines had issues, one of which was big. Nate is incredibly capable when it comes to boat maintenance and repair, but this one (two) required outside help. So, we blocked the rest of September off of our calendar and sailed to Puerto Lindo for maintenance. Heather the magical human kept me distracted on the passage so I didn’t feel sick. We spent 4-5 days upon arrival doing absolutely nothing. We went out to eat. I had cheesecake. We had ICE CREAM! We ordered sundaes at a nearby restaurant, and all asked for the “adult” ice cream. The server said “do you know what this means? It comes with rum on top.” We’ve been back nearly everyday since.

One engine is coming out today. We’re here for (hopefully) two weeks of boat repair, then sailing back to San Blas for our October charters. We are trying to remain zen. I have a bit more free time than usual, so I’m experimenting on new recipes. I’m also walking on land a lot, which is weird. When we’re too lazy to cook we go out to eat. And of course, we continue to keep Balboa stock at an all time high, and feelings at an all time low. So there you have it. A non-sensical, feelings free update on life. Want to know more? Come visit :)

PS: if you have any favorite recipes that are fish/chicken/veg based and are fairly simple, send them my way! If I use them for charters I will rename the dish in your honor. Pinky swear.

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rissaroundtheworld · 7 years

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10,000 Leagues Over the Sea: A journey across the Americas and a triumpant return to chartering

This may be the longest stretch I’ve had without posting, which is unfortunate since I recently learned that more people read this than just my parents. On that note, hi everyone at Genzyme, thank you for following along!

When I last updated, I was laying low as an undocumented alien in Colombia while slowly remembering what its like to walk on a stable surface.* Aside from breaking a smorgasboard of international, local, and maritime laws, the trip to Colombia was reasonably uneventful. After setting anchor in Cartagena we immediately ran off the boat to eat in a restaurant, and didn’t look back for the entire month+ we had on shore. Yes, my bank account and I are currently in a fight, but we will work through it… we always do. We visited some of our favorite bars and restaurants, met up with old friends, and made some new ones. We traded in our Balboas for Club Colombias (roja, duh) and more or less neglected all responsibilities for awhile. I even took a shower in a REAL shower! **

[*In case you’re wondering, if you could walk before you can walk again after not doing it for awhile. Just like riding a bike!

**We actually have a very real shower on board, but when I came to the boat I proclaimed, in front of at least 4 people, that I would commit to not using it for the entirety of my stay on board. I generally shower in the ocean, or using our outdoor shower (not part of the no-use proclamation) but I have not set foot in the regular shower aside from cleaning it for charters. Four months… clean? Probably the wrong word to use here. ]

As quickly as I arrived in Colombia it was time for me to fly home. It had been six whole months, and I missed all the wonderful people in my life something fierce! The trip got off to a poor start as a weather delay prevented me from actually leaving on my intended date. I packed, drove the airport, checked in…. and then found out I would have to turn back and try again tomorrow. I was about to leave when the JetBlue staff pulled me aside and, in quiet voices, asked me the English word for an issue with a suitcase. The word in question was “dent,” which I happily shared with them. This opened the floodgates to a full blown English lesson on luggage – I taught them all the words for baby gear (crib, stroller, etc), luggage damage (dent, scratch, chip), and then headed back to spoil Nate’s dreams of having a night to himself. *** The next day I left one America for the other, and immediately reunited with my sister who conveniently lives within walking distance of the airport. She took me to a Colombian restaurant for brunch to help me assimilate back into the US of A. Perhaps it was the arepas, or the pitcher of mimosas, but I fell back into step easily and we quickly hopped into an Uber to head to Sutton. **** My time at home was a whirlwind of family, friends, food, and an absurd number of visits to Target. I threw a small pool party in hopes of getting to see all the faces that I missed, and it was very successful. ***** I managed to visit most of my favorite restaurants, get back to Central Rock, and of course, forced Tilly to cuddle me until her little doggy brain was probably begging me to leave.

[***He handled this well.

****Definitely not with champagne in water bottles. Definitely not.

***** Barring a “minor” glitch where, less than 24 hours before all of my friends were supposed to arrive, I completely shattered the 6 person glass table in the pool area, covering the already shimmering surface with tiny, un-collectable shards of glass. Don’t worry, only three people had to have glass pulled out of their feet, and one of them was me. May the odds be ever in your favor.]

From home, I flew to Medellin, Colombia, where we had “work” of a different nature: overseeing the final stages of the renovation of Nate’s new penthouse. For better or worse, the construction was behind, which meant our “work” was limited to buying a projector and speakers, which took approximately 5 hours out of the 10 days we had in Medellin. So, we did what people who live and work on a boat do for vacation: hooked up the new projector and sound system in our little AirBnb, ordered delivery for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and behaved like degenerate sloths for nearly a week. It was truly magical!

The time came to return to Cartagena, and now we were in full-blown work mode. The boat had been undergoing some major renovations ****** in a pretty sketchy marina. The first few cabs that I asked for a ride straight up said they wouldn’t go there; the man who finally agreed got too scared, left me on the side of the road, and drove off into the distance. Early-travel Rissa would have been peeing her pants in fear, but my experienced self knew that this would probably be ok. ******* I called a friend of a friend with a car, and he told me that if I stayed exactly where I was I would be safe. This dude has been shot 8 times, so I trusted his judgment. He quickly came and picked me up; I was pissed at the cab driver but no worse for the wear. The rest of my time in Cartagena was divided between working on the boat all morning, spending the afternoons/evenings with CHRISTIE who came to visit ********, and profusely sweating every single second. Seriously, Cartagena is the hottest place I have ever visited. Ever.

[****** The dining room table now turns into a bed, which means we can jam more of your fine asses in this boat. Come visit, friends!!

******* I’m so sorry, mom. Really.

******** Christie is a beautiful princess and one of my dearest friends and I love her so much and was sooooo happy to see her!]

Once Christie left, it was time to REALLY crank. We had a charter coming up, so there was very little room for error in our timeline. We bought out all the non-perishable items in Cartagena, stocked up the boat, and went to buy fuel. ********* In true South American form, when we arrived at the fuel dock the employees told us they were out of fuel. When we pressed further into when they would have more, they shrugged and said “not tomorrow?” Which was all we needed to know. No fuel refills for us. Now, I’m sure most of you reading have been in this situation in a car: you look at your gas gauge, think about how far you need to go, and occasionally think “ehhhh I can make it!” This mentality doesn’t work as well on a boat. If you run out gas in a car, you call AAA, you call your friend, a tow company, anything. In a boat? Not so much. Running out of fuel means drifting aimlessly in the ocean until you have enough wind to get you where you’re going. We met another boat who had relied entirely on wind to get them from San Blas to Cartagena… what should take 36 hours took them 10 days. To get back in time for our charter, running out of fuel was not an option. We did some calculations, closely monitored the weather, and for better or worse opted for the “ehhh, we can make it!” mentality. To be safe, we needed 10 hours of wind. We felt this was possible, and so we set sail. ********** About 20 hours in, with the fuel gauges dropping at a rapid pace, we checked the weather and realized that our chances of making to our destination, Puerto Lindo, were quite slim. We had two options: hope for wind to make it to Puerto Lindo, where we could check in with immigration and do the right thing and be upstanding citizens of the world, or dart straight to San Blas, guaranteeing that we have enough fuel to make it and that we arrive on time for our charter, but once again be undocumented aliens in a foreign land for at least a week. We unanimously agreed on option two.

[********* One of the many things I’ve learned about sailing is that, unless you have absolutely all the time in the world and no deadlines, you’re often not sailing. The name is very misleading. Fuel is a must.

********** A major part of this story didn’t fit into this narrative, which is that our anchor motor also broke during this time. In case you don’t know anything about boats, anchors are kind of important. And by kind of, I mean incredibly so. We lost an entire day just to fixing the windlass, which means our dire fuel situation now has a time crunch added to it. The plot thickens!]

This change in course meant that we would arrive significantly earlier than planned… a little TOO early. Because San Blas has so many (gorgeous!) reefs, trying to navigate in the dark is quite dangerous. Our new itinerary put us in around 3 am, far too soon for safety. So we did something I had never experienced before: we shut off the engines, left the boat on autopilot, and took a nap while floating aimlessly in the middle of the ocean. It was one of those moments where you realize how small you are in the world, which has recently become one of my favorite feelings. After a warm welcome by no less than 8 dolphins racing the boat, we arrived in San Blas and had to turn it up to 11 to be ready for our guests. There were a few things about this charter that made me nervous: first, they had been a referral from our good friends who also charter, but had to cancel due to some medical issues. We were so thankful that they trusted us with their guests, but also worried that the guests had come to expect one thing with our friends, and would be disappointed when our charter was different. The second was that they specifically asked for fresh seafood, which is the primary source of our food, but my cooking skills are still limited. I can make a mean sushi roll and goddamn are my fish tacos good ************, but we don’t normally make much with lobster (one of their specific requests), and I have little experience with some of the other delicacies available to us. It was time to learn. I’ll save you the stories of my emotional turmoil related to “should I give them what they’ve requested and risk it being awful, or not listen to their requests but ensure the food is good” and tell you that the universe was kind to me this week, and we ate like kings. Lobster risotto, baked lobster, conch fritters, fresh caught crab, seared tuna, fresh sushi with tuna and mackerel, fish tacos… not to mention all the non-fish meals we all stuffed ourselves with. I will allow myself to toot my own horn for just a second here: I was fairly confident in my cooking abilities at home, but I believe I have stepped my game up here, both in terms of ability but also adaptability. When you have to rely on the local Kuna to hopefully kayak up to your boat on the designated day, and hopefully have the items you’re looking for, to plan a weeks worth of meals for guests who are paying you to be on board… there’s a bit of a learning curve. But the moral of the story is, when there’s a will there’s a way, and now I make a bomb lobster risotto. ************ Our charter guests left, and the universe shined down on us once more. The Kunas pulled up in one of their larger boats which contain fresh produce, opened up a cooler, and there it was: ice cream. Still riding the high of our successful charter, we laid back on our new table-bed, opened up our cartons of ice cream, and ate ourselves sick. And with that, we begin prep for a packed season of more guests, adventures, food, rum…. And maybe some more ice cream somewhere in the mix. Until next time!

[************ yep.

************ You’re welcome, mom.]

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rissaroundtheworld · 7 years

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The Journey to Colombia: How a One Day Trip Turned into Four, and All of the Rules We Broke Along the Way

It feels like we just arrived in San Blas, but here we are in Cartagena, Colombia. This trip is one of both personal necessity and immigration law evasion: Nate recently invested in some property in Medellin and needed to oversee the final stages of the renovation, and I decided that would be the perfect opportunity to go back home and see my family and friends. Seems like a simple idea, but this is Panama! Land of beautiful beaches and nonsensical rules. The country recently introduced a law stating that foreigners must leave the country every six months, and that when we leave, we must stay out for a month. This is incredibly inconvenient when you're operating a semi-illegal business (1) in said country. But, we decided to make the best of it and get some (actual) sailing and some new adventures under our belt. I'll briefly describe our original plan, and then go into detail on exactly how this all changed, how we're now 4+ days into this journey, and I will even number all of the rules we broke while doing so (see #1 above).

THE ORIGINAL PLAN (OP) We wrapped up our final charter, a really really fun group who indulged my love of Bananagrams and also brought me sliced bread. At this point, this (or ice cream) may be the way into my icy cold heart. We spent a few days regrouping, during which we mostly ate leftovers, didn't wash dishes, and watched a ridiculous amount of my new favorite show, Qi. Our plan was as follows: knock off a few "must-do" items prior to leaving, including laundry, obtaining food (don't mistake this for grocery shopping, that would give you a false impression of the ridiculous lengths we go to to get food here), doing a few things on the internet, and getting our exit paperwork: a small but very important document called a Zarpe. The Zarpe (the only item on this list that absolutely could not be skipped) would be obtained on an island in northern San Blas called Por Venir, and from there we would sail directly across the ocean to Cartagena, Colombia. The trip would be non stop for about 36 hours, and when we arrived we would immediately go out to eat and I wouldn't cook the food and I wouldn't do the dishes and we would walk on solid ground and maybe I would even wear pants. Maybe. Easy, yeah! ... no.

Day 0: Gringos love the internet

While we were regrouping, we were fairly close to Por Venir (the check out point), but we REALLY needed to do some internet work (part of which was looking at the weather to know exactly when to leave), and so we decided to make the half day sail down to Green Island, where we knew we could (usually) get 3G. A quick note on Panamanian internet: first of all, 3G is a real luxury that should not be taken for granted (don't even begin to dream about 4G you goofballs.) Secondly, the cell phone plans here are different than those in the states. You pay per gigabyte by purchasing cards with a certain value associated with them. If you're running low you can sign onto the internet and re-up, but if you run out entirely... you're completely screwed because, guess what, you don't have internet! A stellar business model if I've ever heard of one. We've always felt pretty safe as we have 3 devices on board: two phones and a small wireless device which takes the same sim card. When one runs out, one of the others saves the day. But, fairly quickly into our stay in San Blas, Nate's phone decided to pull a Chris Cornell (too soon?!?) and is no longer with us. And as you may have gleaned by now... phone stores are DEFINITELY not a thing here here. So, down to 2 devices. A few days before our charter guests arrived, our wifi device decided to lock our account. Now our gringo-born thirst for internet was residing entirely in the hands (case?) of my little iPhone 5S. We sailed far away from the checkout point, signed online... and realized my phone was out of data. Zero devices. We both sat in front of our respective electronics repeating back and forth "hey mine's not working, is yours?" "You're taking up too much data, sign off so I can send this email." "Is Instagram really that important right now?" "Raise your phone up the mast, it probably just needs to be higher." Until, finally, we had to accept our fate: an internet-free evening. A box of wine and a kayak trip masked our frustration, and the next day we decided to backtrack entirely and just begin the process of checking out.

Day 1, take 1: Getting a Zarpe in a really hot place I'm not entirely sure how much of our previous experiences were illegal, but we had to rewrite our alibi for when we met with the migration officer, so I have reason to believe we've been a bit naughty. (2) I chose not to inquire too far into this. Luckily, when being asked difficult and important questions by a foreign official in another country, you can play the language barrier card! When he asked how long we've been here, I stared blankly and said "uhhh... no entiendo?" He seemed satisfied with my response. (3) We laid out our passports, all the necessary documents, and requested our Zarpe. My blank stare was promptly returned to me and the officer said that they no longer issued Zarpes. He pointed to a door which had cleared once said "maritime migration (migración marítima)" but had been hastily painted over with a nearly sheer coat of white paint. He explained to us that the migration officials found Por Venir to be too hot... so they left. You read that correctly. An official government organization (in a tropical country close to the equator!) closed their doors due to heat. Oh, Panama. The migration officer laid out our options for us. Option 1: backtrack another 50+ miles to Puerto Lindo, a fairly disgusting place which we had already visited, get our Zarpe, and then head straight across to Colombia from there. Option 2: rather than sail directly across the ocean to Cartagena, we could first sail south to the Panamanian/Colombia border (think Darien Gap! Yay human trafficking!), obtain our Zarpe there (he said he was PRETTY sure we could, but wouldn't commit 100%), and then sail north to Cartagena. Essentially taking the tangent of a triangle rather than the hypotenuse (I've been kind of bored and reading an Applied Physics book). Option 3: Roll the dice and head to Colombia without a Zarpe, and deal with the repercussions when we get there. The migration officer seemed particularly excited about option 3 and kept suggesting we try while grinning and shrugging his shoulders, but for some strangely rational reason we opted for option two. A new place, a new adventure(!!), and a longer but more broken up trip.

Day 1, take 2: An uneventful journey to the middle of nowhere

The second first day of our journey was incredibly unusual. What I mean by that is, nothing went wrong. We woke up on time. We made a healthy breakfast while the sun was rising, and as soon as we had a little light we headed out. We had some wind. When we didn't, the engines cooperated. The weather was beautiful, the journey was long (12 hours) but pretty, and we reached our destination, Los Pinos, just before sunset. We caught a great tuna on the way, and we had some cheese that needed to go soon, so we enjoyed some perfectly seared tuna with a side of disgustingly unhealthy mac and cheese. Balance, right?

Days 2 and 3: To Zarpe or not to Zarpe

Day 2 began with a bang, literally. Our intentions to wake up early were aided by a small and yet unresolved bug issue. The actual event is still unclear, but it resulted in two grown adults flailing around a tiny bedroom, jumping and throwing things and falling into doors. We might have bruises, and in true Nomad form minimal clothes were involved. I truly wish I could have been a fly (or the potential cockroach in question) on a wall for this one. The perp was never found and we quickly realized that going back to bed was not an option, so we pulled up the anchor and headed out around 4 am. Our destination was Puerto Obaldia, where we were prepared to either get our Zarpe or decide how many more immigration laws we were willing to roll the dice on. This leg was only about 6 hours and I spent four of them asleep on the couch, so it felt like we arrived there in the blink of an eye! Now was the tricky part: could we get a Zarpe? The conversation with migration in Por Venir was entirely in Spanish, and though we're both pretty good, there is always a risk of miscommunication. There's also always a risk that we heard correctly, but the migration officer didn't actually know/wasn't telling the truth/just didn't actually care (the last being most likely). Finally, it was Sunday, - would it even be open, or would all of Panama be observing the Sabbath!? We pulled up to the dock and walked around what felt like a seriously hopping town compared to what we've been used to, which means there were actual people and restaurants with chairs and probably menus, and even a store or two! What would we ever do!? But we were there to conduct business, so we walked directly to migration. The office was very clearly closed, so we asked the locals whether it was permanently closed, just closed because it was Sunday, or if the officials were maybe just taking a siesta. They yelled across to a restaurant (walls here are lacking), and we were delighted to hear that they would be opening in just a few hours. Apparently, migration only opens when a plane is arriving, or sometimes whenever they feel like it, but we luckily showed up on a flight-friendly day (where they fit an airport on this tiny island is still an unsolved mystery). We decided to sit down at the restaurant and grab a beer to celebrate possibly being able to continue our arduous journey. At this point, we were sure of one thing: we were not turning back. If they wouldn't issue us a Zarpe, we were going to go for option 3: just head to Colombia and hope we could bribe the officials into letting us in without arresting us (4). We sat down for a beer (which they didn't have), and immediately a Panamanian man sat down next to us. He said "I think I can help you" and slapped a badge down in front of us that said "migración marítima." Would this man give us our Zarpe?! We were skeptical, but it seemed like this might be our guy. Anyone with a badge has to be legit, right? The badge carrying "official" suggested that we let a small child take all of our important, irreplaceable documents to go make copies, which of course we agreed to. She returned and charged us $2 for about 5 pieces of paper, little nina hustler. The "officer" then suggested we follow the reggaeton music which was reverberating throughout the entire island if we wanted a beer (they were NOT observing the Sabbath), so we did. We enjoyed a few Balboas and lost at least a small amount of hearing while watching the clearly intoxicated locals groove/fall all over the place. Growing impatient, we took our beers over to the migration officer and asked if he would just help us now. Surprisingly, he agreed, and opened the migration office for us. We continued to enjoy our beverages while paying for an alarming amount of stamps. The only question the officer had for us (me) was "eres un actriz?" (Are you an actress?) to which I responded "no" and we both moved on. Finally, over a million(ish) stamps later we were handed our paperwork. The next step was to bring some paperwork over to the machine gun-wielding military police, where they would continue to add to our stamp collection and then inspect our boat. Though we had nothing to hide (....5?), we were hoping that we wouldn't have to deal with them pulling apart the boat and leaving us to put it back together. We had another country to get to!

The two officers jumped in the dingy and we drove them to Nomad. Upon arrival, we politely asked them to remove their shoes as we don't wear shoes on the boat. The plainclothes officer was happy to oblige, but the officer in full military regalia said he couldn't take his shoes off. Since he was military we assumed he was just going to come and dirty our floors, but instead he chose to stay in the dingy and simply ignore his work obligations (6). We rewarded him with some tuna (7?). The plainclothes officer boarded the boat, looked at absolutely nothing, then began to pry into our personal lives. Where we were from? Were we married? What were our full names so we could be friends on Facebook? (I am not kidding) Pleased with the acquisition of my WhatsApp number and two new social media contacts, he thanked us, told us to get married, and then left. And thus, our formal exit of Panama was successful. This was now early afternoon, and we had decided to relax and not sail the following day. Our current anchorage in front of Puerto Obaldia was not terribly inviting, and we knew there was a better island right around the corner.... but around the corner was Colombia. And there wasn't a check-in point, so technically, we were illegally crossing the border. Luckily, we both like to live dangerously, so on day 3 we spent 24+ hours unaccounted for in the country of Colombia, exploring the funky little area called Sapzurro (8). We hoped to find internet to check the weather, but this was clearly not an option here. We settled for ice cream and a beer (we've now switched from Balboa to Club Colombia), and enjoyed these luxuries while watching a bunch of Colombian toddlers grooving with moves I can't even dream of having. A miscommunication lead to me being left alone in Sapzurro while Nate had the dingy, which helped me semi accomplish my goal of hitchhiking! I won't give boat hitchhiking the same merit as with a car, but I did put myself at the mercy of a group of Argentinians (hi Pablo!) who kindly brought me back to my own boat just before I began to get nervous. Inspired by our time in town, we listened to the full Shaggy album before going to bed early to prepare for our final and longest leg of the trip.

Day 4: The final countdown

Day four was my day of most trepidation. We expected at least a full 24 hour sail, and due to the lack of internet/basic civilized things in Sapzurro, we weren't entirely sure of the weather. The only overnight sail I had participated in was from Bocas del Toro to Puerto Lindo, and there were a total of 5 people on the boat. We each took two hours shifts overnight, meaning only one shift each, but we were all still miserable by the next morning. Someone left the Hozier album on repeat for 2 straight shifts, and though I think its a great album, "Take Me To Church" now makes me want to throw myself into the depths of the ocean. This time, we only had the two of us to make it through the long night. Luckily, we had a LOT of daylight thanks to our 5 AM alarm (no one will believe me, but I've actually been waking up early nearly everyday! Its a whole new me!) We began our venture up the coast of Colombia, still very much illegal aliens. (9) Living on the edge! Entertainment options on the boat while on passage are fairly limited, so the goal is to fish. We "troll" - I always thought this meant the laborious process of obtaining every ounce of someone's personal information on the internet, but apparently it also means dragging fishing lines behind your boat. Neither of these things have anything to do with actual trolls, which I still find bothersome. About halfway through the day one of the lines started ripping, and for some still unknown reason Nate suggested I reel it in. Let me give you a quick run-down on my fishing experience: Prior to this new boat life, I had fished zero times ever. On our first passage, I was asked to reel in one of the lines to check for weeds. There was a tuna on my line, and I was so inexperienced that I didn't know until it was practically hanging off the edge of my rod. This should teach you that A) I don't know a goddamn thing about fishing, and B) this was now how I expected all fishing to be. As usual... joke’s on me. The fish on this line was a mother-effing marlin! As I began to reel it in it jumped out of the water, and I was pretty sure it was either a whale or an alien spacecraft. Nate estimated it to be 400 lbs or so. Surprisingly, he continued to deem me capable of reeling it in, and I fought this thing with everything I had (which was not impressive whatsoever). When I started really struggling, I was given the job of driving the boat while Nate pulled the fish in... an equally questionable distribution of power. The privileges one receives when there are no better alternatives! We hoped to get the marlin close enough to the boat to get a picture and we came really, really close, but we lost him in the last minute. About 30 minutes later, we rinsed and repeated. Let me just say - my right arm got a serious workout today!

Finally we nailed ourselves another tuna, so I think its fair to say we'll be devouring sushi in the near future. The rest of the ride was, once again, uneventful. The bat shit amazing seasickness patch that our prior guest Kristin shared with me (THANK YOU KRISTIN) was a complete lifesaver - turns out when you're not curled up in a ball of agony, sailing is actually quite fun! (Sidenote: currently seeking individuals with low co-pays to commit insurance fraud and get me more, any takers!?) The only thing better than traveling to a new place is being able to do it in your home. No need to pack, just bring it all! So I relaxed, did some leisure reading, continued my study of applied physics, made some hemp bracelets, ate a lot of food because there wasn't much else to do, took catnaps for the same reason, and marveled at the beautiful night with a super bright moon.

We saw dolphins and whales, zero other human beings, took 2-3 hour night shifts which felt like forever... but we made it. We're exhausted, cranky, and sweltering in this heat (we both agreed that we miss the temperatures in San Blas, which are generally in the mid nineties and 70+% humidity - that should say a lot). We have a lot of work to do while we're here, but have built in plenty of time for play - Cartagena is a really fun city with lots to do (and 3G everywhere!!!!) So adios for now my friends, but thanks to being in civilization - talk soon!!

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rissaroundtheworld · 7 years

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“"Where We’re Going, We Don't Need Roads” - A Memoir of My First Month at Sea

Ahoy beloved friends and readers! I write to you from the back of my new home, a 38 foot catamaran, in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. This area is solely inhabited and governed by the native indigenous people, the Kunas, several of which have become my boyfriends. The most useful, Apio (spanish for celery, so you know he's the real deal) just motored up to this boat on a tiny wooden kayak (called a Cayuca) to ask me if I would like him to deliver me a few cases of beer tomorrow. Obviously, I said "si."

In case that last sentence didn't make it clear, life is a little different here. And by a little, I mean it couldn't possibly be more of a 180 from my previous life OR my backpacking life. Who knew I could take the life I knew, chew it up, and spit it back out twice in less than a year!?! With that being said, this new adventure has been amazing. I am learning new things, seeing new places, meeting new people, and I might be the most tan I've ever been (which, I've been told, is still not very impressive.) Still, its been a wild ride getting here, and it took me some time to adjust. Here's my best recap on the last month or so:

Originally, the plan was for me to fly into Panama City and meet the boat in San Blas, where we are spending the foreseeable future. However, I'm learning that unexpected and sometimes seemingly disastrous boat problems are to be expected anytime, anywhere, and such problems occurred while the boat was still in Bocas del Toro, where I began my international solo travel 9 months ago. Since I was the mule for crucial boat parts, my new-new life started right where my old-new life began. To be honest, being back was a bit of a head trip and I was happy to get out. Thankfully, we made a fast escape after about 48 hours of boat and food provisioning related insanity. There were two crew members on board, Liz and Tomas, and we picked up a third, Daria, thanks to the glorious gift of Tinder. This online dating-friendly crew would make up my social circle for the next few weeks and I couldn't have been luckier! Tomas was a professional chef and made us AMAZING food for every meal, every day, while Liz, Daria, and I spent most of our free time floating naked in the Caribbean drinking gin. I brought down an inflatable flamingo, whom we named Domingo, and most days were spent jumping off the boat onto Domingo and seeing who did a better job (Generally Liz). We listened to music, made jewelry, played board games, and mostly just didn't wear clothes. Seriously... I saw a lot of bums.

With that being said, we did do actual work and we definitely did actual sailing. My sailing experience previously consisted of taking a bedsheet and tucking it into my rollerblades during a hurricane as a teenager, so it should go without saying that the learning curve was a bit steep. Luckily, my rock climbing background set me up as a great rope coiler, and the knowledgeable crew helped me out a lot. Now I sort of know how to avoid crashing into reefs, and I can help let out anchor chain like a champ. Since Tomas is now gone (I miss you everyday amigo!) I am also the resident chef, and I prepare all meals wearing a pirate apron. I still don't know how to cook fish, which is a small problem when you live on a boat in the middle of nowhere with a spearfisherman, but... we're working on it. And luckily, everyone likes sushi.

A few major things have happened in this time period. Thing one was my first open ocean sail! After leaving Bocas, we did a few "test" sails, which involved staying relatively close to the marina in case anything went wrong and basically gliding over calm waters. I was, at this time, not aware that this not "real" sailing. I thought "hey! This is great, I can do this!" We coasted along, drank some beers, listened to good music, and relaxed. Joke was on me. Once we determined that the boat was in good enough condition to leave, we ACTUALLY sailed... turns out this is very different. I don't remember exactly where our first big sail began or ended, but I do remember how long it was: 28 hours. The beginning was comical - it took the entire 4 member crew to prepare coffee, one person holding the kettle down while the boat was rocking, one person holding the grinder down, then a full support team trying to safely pour boiling hot water into the french press while maintaining three points of contact on the incredibly unstable boat. Needless to say there were a few burns and a LOT of spilled coffee (remember, the next step was getting it into mugs - oooooff!) At first we had fun with it - we had contests to see who could stand on one foot the longest (Liz again), played ukulele, listened to The Lonely Island's "I'm on a Boat" far more times than necessary. Sleeping was awful, and we all had to take shifts in the middle of the night to make sure the boat didn't crash (evidently this is something you want to avoid). But, we made it, spent a few days re-provisioning, and then made our final jump. 10 hours, which sounded like nothing compared to the previous 28, but once again... joke was on me. These seas were significantly more rough than before, and about an hour in I noticed myself feeling a little... off. This quickly escalated into 9 straight hours of me curled up in the fetal position on the back deck with a sarong over my face, occasionally experiencing a moment of strength where I would drag myself inside to get as many Ritz crackers as I could hold in one hand. When we finally arrived in San Blas, I couldn't even bring myself to participate in the obligatory "anchor beer" (another boating skill I am quickly adapting to). This was not a fun time.

Luckily, I recovered quickly, and to calm any fears of potential visitors, this is NOT what its like to sail around San Blas. Not even close. Seasickness is entirely not a thing here, even for my apparently delicate self. And with all this time spent not being seasick, we've done a LOT now that we're here! Activities have included:

DIVING If you saw me when I came home in December, you may have noticed (and politely not mentioned) that I put on a few L-Bs since leaving. And if you knew me at any point ever in my life, you know that this is not something I stand for. When I left home the second time (after of course gorging on Christmas cookies) I got my act together - ate better, drank less, worked out more consistently. My primary workouts are running and yoga, which are both relatively easy to do on the road. But now... there are no roads. And very few spacious, flat surfaces which don't threaten to move at any time (only beaches). What's a slightly chubby girl to do? Then I learned (and have since heard over 1000 times) that free diving is the second best cardiovascular exercise in the world, beat only by competitive fast wood chopping. And I now live with a certified free diver. My previous diving experience was... limited. Basically, if I dropped something to the bottom of my reasonably shallow pool, I accepted it as a loss. So free diving lesson day one was a bit scary, but luckily I had a great instructor! Nate walked me through proper breathing techniques, and then pushed me to try deeper depths. I experienced my first (of now many) underwater contractions, which may have made me pee my pants a little - its tough to tell when you're in the ocean. But by day 3, I was diving alone to between 30 and 35 feet! This has been good for both my heath and entertainment- I'm watching my Argentinian Malbec-induced love handles melt away, and I've had the opportunity to explore the reefs around here in a whole new way. They are STUNNING. If I could double capitalize that, I would. STUNNING! There is beautiful coral, colorful fish, anemones, octopi, shellfish, and so much more. My job when we go diving is to hunt lobsters and crabs, but I generally get caught up in all the beauty and forget. I am currently batting a 0.000.

FRIENDS Turns out, you can live on a boat in the middle of nowhere and still have a social life. In fact, at times our social schedule was so packed we had to turn down a few requests - who would have guessed!!? I've already met so many new people of all ages, nationalities, and different walks of life. We've had boatloads of fun (see what I did there?), but again, its... different. For example: We met up with some friends who had heard about a dolphin carcass that washed ashore, and they wanted to take the teeth for jewelry. One asterisk - they heard about this six weeks prior, but had been running charters and thus unable to explore. If, like me, you have no experience in excavating a dolphin carcass that has been on a beach in the tropics for six weeks, let me tell you: they're disgusting. At several points, the brave leader of the excavation team looked like she was going to puke. The smell was unbearable, and we had to use the dolphins scapula to find the bones as no one had thought to bring a shovel. In the end we discovered that, in the six weeks it had been sitting, someone had already stolen the teeth. And this is how my ocean social life began.

WORKING Yep, you read that correctly. I've been doing real, actual work. One day I even worked for nearly 6 straight hours (when we realized this we promptly closed the computers and made cocktails). I came to the boat to help Nate run charters, which I had no experience in and he had only done informally before. Getting this up and running has been a crazy amount of work! We've had to restructure websites and market ourselves online, which is always fun when you're in the middle of nowhere in an underdeveloped country. Our wifi consists of a small device which we put into a backpack and hoist to the top of the mast, where we HOPE we get enough signal to do what we need. Quite advanced technology here. We had to clean the whole boat top to bottom, and reorganize a lot to make sure our guests feel comfortable. We had to reach out to people to set up water taxis, food deliveries, fix boat problems (they really are never ending), and figure out charter-friendly recipes. Then we had to sample said recipes, which meant me making all kinds of treats and Nate getting to eat and critique them. I'm pretty sure he got the better end of the deal here. Somehow, we managed to get it all together and in late April we took on our first ever charter together. I was terrified. When we got the booking I ran around the boat in a full blown panic, and didn't sleep from that moment until our guests arrived (thankfully it was a last minute booking!) What if my sushi rolls fell apart? What if I burnt the eggs? What if I cut my finger and cried into the rice and then the guests unknowingly paid to eat my tears!? Luckily, none of these things happened. In fact, barring an unfortunate lion fish sting (not one of the guests thankfully), the charter went REALLY well. We got along swimmingly (more boat jokes!) with our guests, who were incredibly kind, fun, and easy going people. My meals went well. We got in great diving, fishing, relaxing, and exploring. The guests even spoiled us by cooking dinner one night, which was warmly welcomed since by this point my feet felt like they were entirely on fire. We walked (errr... water taxied) away with new friends. We couldn't have started off on a better note.

So here we are - relaxing before our next guests arrive in a few days. We're hanging with these guys for about a week or so, then heading to do some wheeling and dealing (and obeying stupid new immigration laws) in Colombia before returning for a charter in late July. Theres a trip to the states in the mix, where my goals include not cooking and not cleaning (sorry mom and dad!) I am going to take a real shower (yep, hasn't happened in six weeks). I will eat broccoli and pork and all of the foods that the Kuna veggie boats wont bring me. I will drink real beer, and see all the people I love and haven't seen in nearly six months! But until then, I'll go wash my hair in the ocean, munch on a carrot, and crack open a Balboa. Life's not so bad :)

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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28 Days Later: Triumphs and Tragedies in my Last Four Weeks of Travel

When I last posted, I was in bed spooning my take-out toast and unknowingly developing a serious addiction to Kombucha. Since then, the last 28 days (ish, I'm taking some numerical liberties to allude to the rabid zombie monkey apocalypse coming at the end of the story) have been a whirlwind of events, both good and bad. For your reading pleasure, here are some of the triumphs and tragedies I have experienced in the last few weeks:

PAI, THAILAND

Triumphs

- I learned to ride a motorbike. If you've been following my blog, you know that my first attempt at riding a scooter was a miserable failure. I crashed, burned, and gave up. I was lucky enough to meet people who could bike for parts of my trip, but I quickly realized how important "scootability" (just made that word up) is in Asia. So, I signed up for a lesson from a Thai man named "Alan" (definitely his real name) which was surprisingly helpful! In my 45 minute lesson I learned to stop, start, turn, and that the speed limit outside of town is "as fast as you want." When I asked for clarification, I was told "as fast as you want!" So, just FYI - the limit does not exist.

- I went to circus school. As many of you know, I have some not-so-secret aspirations of being a circus performer. Little did I know, there was a circus school ready and waiting for me! The educational component there was a bit lacking, but there was no shortage of toys to experiment with. A fellow traveler taught me how to spin plates, and then I tried (and mostly failed) to combine this skill with my beginner hula hooping skills. The results were less than desirable, but I was able to look good for about 3 seconds. - Pai is just really cool. I enjoyed it. Great restaurants, bars, shopping, and of course scooting (now that I'm a wizard at it). I went to an epic pool party. I accidentally went on a date with a woman. I introduced someone to mojitos who had never had them before (sorry for the excessive fun to come with that!) Future me will probably be grateful that my debit card was still shut down, because I could have spent a lot of money there!

Tragedies

- I realized it had been 3+ months since my last haircut, and that I could either deal with this in Asia (presumably dirt cheap) or California (presumably very expensive) before being isolated on a boat with no one to cut my hair but myself (its been done but it was never fun). I chose Asia... and got what I paid for. This was bad, but I continued the ruination by trying to fix it myself with my high-tech hair cutting equipment, aka the men's razor blade I use for my legs. No bueno. End result? I paid California prices to fix the smorgasbord of mistakes inflicted by the Thai woman and myself on my precious hair. I've lost probably 5-6 inches and I am devastated.

- I made a last minute (and late afternoon) decision with a friend to go explore some local caves. We hopped on my bike (thanks again Alan!) and, while driving, plugged in the address. 30 miles, oops! We hadn't planned appropriately for this time, and 30 miles is a lot on a shitty rental scooter, but we decided to go for it anyway. The ride was long but beautiful, we drove around some winding mountain roads and also behind some trucks doing some very unethical things to animals (so bad I can't even think about it). As we approached our final destination, we lamented on how long and uncomfortable the ride was, and how glad we were to finally be here and get to explore the caves. We pulled into the parking lot and heard a strange "pop" sound, followed by a noticeable difference in how the bike was riding. We had a flat tire. We looked around for some locals and found only middle aged, overweight Thai women selling fruit. Without other options, we asked these chiquita banana women for help. Unlike most people in Thailand, these women spoke very little English. We did our best to communicate the problem, repeatedly pointing at the tire and shaking our heads with pouty faces. They finally understood, and sent some dude (with a 10 year old boy for help) to the local mechanic to bring him back. When the man returned he looked at us, shook his head in a very defeated manner, and walked away. What did this mean?!?! The women kept directing us to other women, and my friend and I began to discuss the possibility of me seducing single men into scooting us home and we would just deal with the bike in the morning. As this wasn't the most desirable option, we continued to try and communicate with the fruit ladies and get help. Finally, one woman pointed to a flatbed pickup truck and said "man come, bike in truck, 400 baht." Without an alternative we agreed, and a man did come, put my bike in the truck (not the easiest feat) and charged us 400 baht to drive us to the mechanic. Three hours, several miles out of the way, and 150 more baht later, we were free... but the caves were closed. Defeated, we scooted the 30 miles back on my new tire with nothing to show but shame. I never saw the caves.

From Pai, I took the shuttle bus to Chiang Mai, where I spent a VERY memorable two days with some fantastic friends. Of note: the bus ride from Pai to Chiang Mai is infamous, and not for good reason. In the first 2 hours of the 3.5 hour ride, there are just shy of 700 sharp turns. I was warned about this on the way there and prepared appropriately: I didn't eat for a few hours beforehand, kept my water consumption to a minimum, and made sure to keep my eyes either closed or up front. I was fine, unlike the hoards of people I encountered at the midway rest stop who were vomiting and/or buying dramamine by the kilogram. So on the way back, I figured I would still be fine no matter what. I ate a heaping bowl of spaghetti, and washed it down with a gin and tonic. What a regret. Each turn had me reeling in my seat, which im sure the gap-year student next to me really enjoyed. But I made it, and enjoyed my time in Chiang Mai before heading to Vietnam to meet Channa!

VIETNAM

Triumphs

- The triumphs in Vietnam began early. I apparently refuse to plan or organize anything, so it was less than a week before my flight when I realized I needed a visa to enter Vietnam. Channa I both purchased our visas from an incredibly reputable website - I forget the exact name, but it was something in line with "cheapvietnamvisas.com." Definitely no red flags raised there. When I checked into the Chiang Mai airport and showed them my visa, the attendant laughed in my face, took a picture of it with her iPhone, then handed it back to me with a smirk. She also asked me what time my flight left, so her credibility was somewhat questionable... However, the terrifying customs agents in Hanoi didn't seen to question my black market internet visa (total cost with expedited delivery: $11) and after my driver took a VERY long bathroom break, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and put in a CD that perpetually skipped, I "safely" (drive in Vietnam and you'll understand the quotes) made it to Hanoi. - I got my debit cards! ...and they didn't work. But now I have them, and have begun the seemingly never ending process of getting the bank to let me access my own money. This is my favorite part of traveling, really. - Channa and I did some AMAZING things! She surprised me with a birthday tour of Mai Chau, which is a very small town outside of Hanoi. Unlike some of the other tours, this town is lesser known to tourists and really gave us a feel for how locals live in Vietnam, or 'Nam as we liked to call it. We stayed with host families and enjoyed their local cooking, met their families, even received some traditional Vietnamese dancing lessons from an adorable 4 year old named Bik. We cycled through rice terraces, shopped at a local market, trekked through the jungle (in 102 degree heat!), and rafted on bamboo kayaks. You may be surprised to hear there was also a lot of house music involved in this adventure, but it was a very unfortunate reality. We were attacked by kittens at night, kept awake by a nearby wedding, and harassed by a gang of chickens... but it was one of the best experiences I have had in awhile. THANK YOU CHANNA!! We also went on a tour of Ha Long Bay, which is where the most recent King Kong movie was filmed. The weather wasn't great but that didn't take away from the beauty of this area. We toured some caves (including the "surprising caves," see below for why), kayaked around the bay, had a cooking lesson completely with "tea" (wine), toured a pearl farm, biked on an island, and witnessed the extreme love that the Vietnamese have for karaoke. Seriously, they can't get enough! We also toured Monkey Island, which leads me to the best part of this blog: the Vietnam tragedy.

Tragedy

To properly set the scene, picture this: on day 2 of our 3 day tour, we were boating over to a place called Monkey Island. There was a lot of anticipation around this: our entire tour group (consisting of maybe 30 people, only 3 of whom were men) spoke in hushed voices about how excited they were to cuddle monkeys. That was mistake number one. As our boat approached the island, we saw a group of monkeys waiting on shore to greet us. The tour group was literally bouncing up and down squealing on the deck, which unfortunately drowned out the sounds of the island: a terrifying mixture of human screams and monkey hisses emerging from the ever moving branches of the jungle. The women practically fell over each other trying to get on shore, and but we quickly realized our mistake. The monkeys began to look at us with their beady little eyes, clearly thirsty for human flesh. Channa, completely ignoring these primal warning signs, yelled for me to take a picture while she tried to violently cuddle a local zombie monkey. The monkey went in for the kill... but I managed to get the perfect picture. The day went downhill from here: We attempted a trek through the jungle, but the monkeys were apparently trained in guerilla warfare (pun very much intended) and would NOT let us up the mountain. We retreated to the beach, where their attack tactics forced some of us to run into the water for cover. We assumed a position where we could all watch each others backs, and froze every time a branch moved. I heard a girl yell "its just like the movie 'Predator!'" (Seriously, that really happened.) Monkey Island was not the idyllic cuddle fest we had expected.

After what felt like hours our boat FINALLY returned and transported us to our hotel on Cat Ba Island, where Channa disrobed and realized she had been mauled. We immediately took to google, where we learned that her chances of survival were incredibly grim and we needed to act asap. We headed to the front desk, where we rapidly used google translate to type "doctor" "hospital" "help" while showing him pictures of monkeys and flashing Channa's thigh high flesh wound. He finally understood and got us a cab, which drove us to the worst doctors office I have ever encountered. In the front it looked like the most filthy pharmacy of all time. We walked through what appeared to be the living quarters of this "doctor" to get to the "office." He looked at her leg, laughed, and basically gave her a glorified bandaid. As two women trained in aseptic technique, we watched with horror as his gloveless hands separated out gauze held with filthy hemostats pulled out of some rusty drawer. This was not the help we needed. After negotiating the price of the medical service, because you can do that, we went back and drowned our sorrows with rum. The nearest hospital was in Hanoi, and there was no way to get there before tomorrow. I woke up several times in the night, listening to make sure Channa was breathing/wasn't foaming at the mouth thirsting for my blood. She wasn't. In the end, we made it foam-free to the hospital in Hanoi. A LOT of money and a very high injection volume later, Channa's prognosis is significantly better. I tried to keep the mood light by saying how great this would be for my blog, but for some reason that didn't seem to help her... but hopefully it kept you entertained :)

Since then I've spent some time with my wonderful family on the California coast, and also performed miracles packing 26 boxes of boat parts/pool floats into two pieces of luggage of an acceptable size to fly on Spirit Airlines, the devil of all airlines. I am one flight away from my new adventure! If you don't hear from me for awhile, you can assume that my companions got sick of the endless Salt N Pepa and pushed me overboard.Until next time!!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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The Times, They Are A Changing...

Today's update is brought to you from Hanoi, Vietnam, where I am anxiously awaiting the late night arrival of my dear friend Channa! Channa is a former lab partner turned great friend (though she put up a valiant effort to remain work proximity associates forever), and our schedules didnt allow each other to get together while I was home over Christmas. Apparently she had to go to the Caribbean or something appalling like that! So, were going to make up for lost time while she's here. And, nearly equally as exciting, she will be bringing me my new debit card! I am less than 24 hours away from being able to access cash, which is great because I am down to less than the equivalent of 20 USD. I decided to spend a few of my precious dollars (dongs) on laundry because that situation was beyond dire, so that card cant come soon enough!

In my previous update, I alluded to some big changes coming my way. Now that the major details have been worked out, I figured I would share with you all. One, because thats the entire point of the blog (if I was just hashing out my feelings here you would be horrified), and two, because my new opportunity presents you all, or anyone you know, with an opportunity as well! Let me explain...

I cant even begin to describe the changes that have been happening to me over the last 6+ months. My entire mindset has been altered, and I mean that in the best way possible. I am so, so pleased with where Im at in life, and the decisions Ive made that have gotten me here. Ive been loving this life of travel and adventure, and feel so grateful to have been given (/earned myself) this opportunity. With that being said, in the last month or so my thoughts around travel began to shift. Skipping my flight to Australia gave me the chance to see Asia (so great!) but it also completely changed my plans for volunteering. I got caught in the trap of "tourism travel" (traveling with no purpose other than to see new places), which is great in the short term but is absolutely not sustainable. Tourism travel involves a LOT of partying. Sounds fun, and it is, but only for so long. I missed having a purpose. I found myself spending extra money to avoid hostels, which I normally love. I felt overwhelmed with the constant need to move around, because you cant justify staying in one place for a month when youre shelling out for your own accommodations. Making a decision on where to eat each meal became a burden. And I realized: I’m burnt out.

I needed a break. So I ran through my options: Option 1: Quit traveling, go home, and get a real job. Nope. I dont think I need to explain why. Option 2: Continue traveling and push through. Get back into volunteering. This one was a possibility. Option 3: Take a small break in a place that feels comfortable, get my head back on straight, then continue. Also possible.

The factor not discussed here is the upcoming event of my 30th birthday. I LOVE birthdays. Mine, yours, everyone's! And this is a big one. Its a new decade, and its my first birthday where I am 100% free and fully immersed in this new life I so painstakingly built for myself. Which brought me to option 3, which led me to option 4 (which I did not know existed).

I reached out to a good friend. He is sailing around the world, and our paths crossed while we were both in Bocas del Toro. I told him about my burnout, and about my birthday, and that I just really didnt know what to do. I asked if maybe I could come down to the boat for a little while, spend my birthday in the Caribbean, and just take some time to relax and get my head back on straight. He said of course, and then threw me a curveball: Around the time I planned on arriving, he planned to start chartering his boat in San Blas. And he needed another person to help out. Someone who could cook, clean, and entertain. And it was a paying gig.

As soon as I heard this, I knew it was the perfect solution. I felt such a sense of relief that some stability and purpose was coming my way. I LOVE cooking. I LOVE entertaining. And I am at least capable of cleaning. I hope. Plus... I get to live on a yacht in one of the most beautiful places on earth. So I accepted.

What does this mean for you? Well, duh, youre invited! Were open for business sooner than you can plan a trip. I will cook you great food, we will drink great drinks, and we can show you one of the most beautiful places in the world. We can snorkel, dive, fish, or just relax on the beach. We will catch you fresh seafood (by we I actually dont mean me at all). We can play games, listen to music, whatever floats your boat! (Pun very much intended) The listing online is a work in progress, but if this is of interest to you or anyone you know, please reach out! Were ready to starting planning what will certainly be an unforgettable time. Vietnam Internet allowed me to include one picture below, enjoy!

Im really excited for this new adventure, and also to wrap up my time in Asia in the best of company. If theres one thing Ive learned (there are a lot more than one) its that even the best laid plans are not guaranteed to work. And that's ok. Great, even. Sometimes you think youre going to be shoveling manure in Portugal, then suddenly youre making margaritas on a boat. Ill take it! And dont worry, the blogging wont stop. It just might be a little saltier :)

Until next time, amigos!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Six Months

This picture was taken six months ago today. August 24, 2016. I had written the final check for the closing on my house that afternoon. I had only recently begun the process of coming out of the fire, so to speak, of the nightmare that was the year prior. I had lost my sense of who I was, lost my self confidence and self worth, and frankly, had absolutely no idea what I was doing anymore. So I did what any logical broken person would do... and bought a one way ticket to Salt Lake City. Since then, I have visited 33 cities in 12 different countries. I have taken 28 flights, 14 buses, 10 shuttles, 3 trains, 2 ferries, 1 rental car, 1 motorcycle trip, and countless taxis, ubers, and scooters. I have spent a LOT of money. I have met amazing people. And I have learned more than I could have ever expected about myself and the world around me. Since I have been in bed for 48 hours now, I figured I would share some of my travel tips with you!

(Of note - my keyboard is broken and I cant include any apostrophes, unless they're done by autocorrect. Forgive me)

1. Wifi is key! During your first few days in a new city, check out restaurants, cafes, and bars in a variety of neighborhoods. This way, if youre lost later (not that I EVER get lost), youre not too far from somewhere you can steal wifi. Also, don't be stupid and wait 5 months to learn about maps.me. Seriously, why didn't anyone tell me about this in South America!

2. Download Tinder. Gone are the days when Tinder was all about swiping right for some action (mostly). Tinder now serves many purposes! I personally downloaded it simply because one more day without speaking English was going to kill me. Not comfortable going to dinner alone? Tinder. Want someone who can watch your bags while youre in the ocean? Tinder. Need someone on the other side of the camera while you obnoxiously do headstands all over the world? You guessed it - Tinder! I would never use it under circumstances where I cant get on a plane and fly away from someone (men can be stage 5 clingers, too) but its been an amazing resource for meeting people while traveling. And... occasionally you do get some action.

3. Dont set lofty goals for personal hygiene. Sometimes, youre just having way too much fun to be bothered with a shower. Sometimes you have the time, but just cant bring yourself to take one of the ever present cold showers. Maybe youre halfway through a 4 hour shuttle, have to use a squat toilet during the bathroom break, and you pee all over yourself right before getting on the bus. Or you and a gentleman accidentally pee on each other trying to cover up each others public urination on a historical building. Or you fall asleep on the beach and dont realize how much sand is in your hair until days later when you finally take that cold shower. Plus, the less products you use, the less money you spend... its called budgeting people. And swimming definitely counts as a shower.

4. Expect all non-airborne transportation to be at least a small nightmare. Yes, airports are a hassle, but man are they consistent. Flights generally take off on time, and if they dont, you'll know. There are so many signs, and so many people who speak English. This is a well oiled machine. Busses and shuttles? ...Not so much. They're never on time, except that one time when youre running late, then they take off early. Signs? Nah. You have to figure that out on your own. If you dont speak the language...good luck to you. Expect sexual harassment from the drivers, pulling over and swapping vehicles for no reason at any given point, and DEFINITELY expect to arrive at your destination several hours later than expected. Is it hot out? Dont worry, the bus will blast the AC so high that you will shiver the entire time. Is it a reasonable temperature outside? Not so much on the bus!! Prepare to sweat out whatever it is that you consumed in the last 24 hours. Buses are NOT your friend.

5. The best way to acquire things is to act like you dont care about them. This is a well known phenomenon, but Im still pretty amazed at how extreme this can be. See something you want? Ask how much, hear the price, and then make a big, dramatic fuss about how expensive it is. Walk away with as much huffing and puffing and wild hand gestures as you can conjure up. You will, without a doubt, get what you want at the price that you want. I recently talked a woman down from 120,000 rupiah to 30,000 rupiah. Just by walking away and acting pissed. She went so low I actually felt bad and gave her 35,000... but now I have 3 new sarongs which cost the equivalent of about $2.50 each. Side note - this strategy often works with men as well. Try it out.

6. Things work themselves out. This is, by far, the biggest lesson I have learned from 6 months on my own. I cant tell you how many situations Ive been in where I thought ¨this is it, Im going to die here, starve here, get attacked, get killed, etc.¨ I planned a new life of sleeping on the streets in Panama. I had every detail of my dramatic escape from jungle captivity planned (also in Panama, it was my first stop so I was pretty nervous.) I have spent many a walk with my hands in my pocket, clenching my brass knuckles, knowing FOR SURE that someone was going to come after me and I would have to fight for my life. I thought I was getting deported in Thailand. Ive run out of money, out of food, showed up in new places with no place to stay, lost contact with people Im supposed to be with, had no access to phones, shown up at the airport with no flight booked (twice, not proud), gotten very sick with no one to take care of me... yet here I am, alive and well (ok, a little sick), relaxing in Thailand. You get through things. I found that I am so much stronger than I realized. And that people are really, mostly good, and they will help you.

So, what's next? Well first, Ill fly to Vietnam for a bit because a certain CHANNA BAO is coming to visit me!!!! This is big, people. Remember when Channa wouldn't be my friend? Then... some major changes to my itinerary. The details are still being worked out but some exciting new things are on the horizon. Hint: no part of this plan involves snow, still. And there's a pretty big birthday thrown into the mix.

Most importantly, at this alleged half-way point in my trip, I want to extend a gigantic thank you to everyone in my life who has supported me in this journey (and in the journey that led me to leave in the first place.) Whether you've come to visit, kept in touch via text, let me facetime you in a panicked state (love you, Laura!), commented on my posts, or even just sent a quick message to say hello - it really means the world to me. Though I am constantly grateful for this life of adventure, there are undoubtedly moments of loneliness. You all remind of the amazing support system I have back home. Its Friday (I think?) and Im still sick in bed, so... have a drink for me!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Less Money, Mo’ Problems: A Tribute to Crossing the Pacific, Told Through the Majesty of 90′s Hip-Hop

I'm currently in what I have come to refer to as a "treat yo-self" time. It's a special time during travel when I completely ignore my budget, indulge in a private room, enjoy the food I want instead of the food I should be buying (which at this point is basically street meat), sometimes I even pay for a massage or something equally crazy! This treat yo-self finds me in Chiangmai, Thailand, recovering from a week in Phuket. I am sunburnt, polka dotted with bug bites, covered in cuts and bruises, and, oh yeah - I have the equivalent of about $120 USD to last me the next 3 weeks. To explain how I got here, let me start where it all began - crossing the Pacific. To help me tell the tale I'll be employing some of my favorite 90's hip hop lyrics (you didn't think that habit died on the road, did you?) So pack it up, pack it in, and let me begin.

The story begins with a bit of time travel, as flying from LA to Bali prevented me from ever experiencing February 2nd. Someone should tell me how that day was. I arrived in Denpasar exhausted after over 20 hours in the air, but luckily for me the journey was not over - my luggage was lost!! Fortunately the situation was remedied quickly (I'm still unclear how) and I headed to Kuta, where I managed to keep myself awake until 7:30 pm. Would this be the start of a new life as a morning person? (Spoiler alert: no chance.) Waking up around 4:30 am allowed me to get a slightly early start on the day, and I decided to follow the instructions of the ever reliable world wide web and rent a scooter to tour the area. Of note: I have never, ever operated a motorized, two wheeled vehicle before. In fact, until just this year, I had never even been on one. This didn't seem to phase the rental company, so I sat back, relaxed, and strapped on my helmet. I took off, and immediately dropped it like its hot. Literally. Unfortunately, the next 48 hours or so followed the same trend: I tried to walk off my crash and ended up with a ridiculous sunburn. I took a shuttle ride from hell. Got dropped off at the wrong location and had to walk 1.2 miles with my 70-ish lbs of gear bearing down on my burn. I thought, man... this place is poison!

However, this all changed once I began to explore Ubud, which is where the death shuttle had taken me (3 hours to get 16 miles, you don't need a golden calculator to know something went wrong there.) I know I use this word far to frivolously (working on it!) but Ubud is truly, truly magical. I saw waterfalls, temples, beaches, and countryside, all of which blew my mind. I ate delicious food, saw live music, and made some fantastic friends. I saw traditional Balinese dancing, which was so mesmerizing that I couldn't even take pictures. I met Balinese people, who are the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. While buying a water at a convenience "store" (hut) a woman literally fed me dinner out of her own bowl. With her hands. Was this all a dream?!

The energy in Ubud felt like it was feeding my soul, and the adventures seemed boundless. I was in good company, and did I mention its the cheapest place EVER?!? Most quality meals ran about $4-$5, with a cheap but still delicious option as low as $1.50. I got a 60 minute massage for $8. My private hotel room with a pool and room service breakfast was $15 a night. Ubud had got what I need(ed). So, I made a crazy move and, rather than try and fight the feelings... I stayed. My plane ticket to Australia came and went, and I made the executive decision to head north instead of south. Asia had me hooked, and I couldn't stop staring.

So I called up a friend, and by friend I mean someone I met once for a few hours out at a bar in Arizona. One thing I've learned is that, in the travel community, the slightest connection automatically makes you best friends. So I call my BFF Lisa and said "girl, you know you better watch out, I'm coming to wherever you are." Turns out that wherever was Patong Beach in Phuket, Thailand. I flew in on Valentines Day and I came to get down, but I had NO idea the madness that I was in for. Bangla Rd is, without question, the most wild place I have ever been. Vegas... you can't touch this.

Most of what took place in Patong is unsuitable for an public blog post. I met some really wonderful friends, had a lot of good laughs, and found myself saying "I never thought I would see that/do that/say that out loud" on a semi-regular basis. I also went to some of the craziest bars and clubs I have ever experienced... including the infamous ping pong show. If you don't know what that is, please don't google it. My homeboys tried to warn me ("you have to go once but you'll never go back) and they were quite right. I can't unsee some of the sights of Patong.

I knew that I had to back up off it and sit my cup down or I would likely die, either due to exhaustion or because I had gouged my own eyeballs out. So Lisa and I headed over to Koh Phi Phi, which did not solve any of my problems whatsoever. Wanting to make the most of my time there I pushed it real good (you should have been waiting for that one) and we continued the rump shakin on the islands. We swam in the ocean, which was beautifully teal and the perfect temperature. We ate great food on the beach, did some cheap shopping, and saw an AMAZING fire show! We also, either together or separately: cut ourselves on coral, fell and smashed our knees on a stage, participated in the rescue of a completely random drunk girl (hope you're alive, Sarah!), lost one debit card, had the other debit card compromised, and to top it off, I got onto a ferry and drove away with the key to Lisa's security locker. I guess this is how we do it.

So here I am. I have at least two more days of alone time to catch up on much needed sleep. I have very little cash, but have prepared my family that they will likely have to make a trip to Western Union (ya'll think I'm gonna let my dough freeze?) Tomorrow I will use some of the precious little cash I have to take the treacherous drive to Pai, which hopefully will allow me to participate in some more outdoor activities (and there's a circus school, dreams do come true!) I wouldn't call it a comeback just yet, but I feel like things are going to get easier. Hopefully this post has given you a good idea of what I've been up to, but more importantly, I hope I have sabotaged you with at least one of these hip hop references. You're welcome. Props to anyone who can count how many there are :)

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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“Whatever you do, don’t go to Colombia” - a lesson on not listening

Here I am in Ubud, Bali, relaxing in my "pod" while I wait for my coffee to kick in. Though I've been here nearly 4 days, I'm still very thrown off by the time change! I stayed out past my bedtime last night (10:30, crazy, I know) and now I'm suffering the consequences. However, blogging while groggy has been successful for me in the past, so let's give it a go.

When I left for this trip, I was surprised at how often I found myself justifying my choices to other people. Some conversations involved no words, just a shake of the head and then walking away. Many people hugged me with the implication that it would be the last time we would ever be in contact. The people who chose to use their verbal skills had a variety of concerns and "suggestions," but there was one common theme: "well, just don't go to Colombia or anything crazy like that." So, I didn't. And I regretted it. So when the opportunity arose to spend New Years Eve there with a strapping gentleman... I took it. Here, in list form, are all the reasons why it was terrible and you should never go there.

Its too affordable Though I love meeting up with people along the way, having to pay for my own lodging adds up quickly. So when I saw the housing prices in Colombia, I remembered why I shouldn't be going there. A beautiful new apartment in the heart of downtown Medellin with floor to ceiling windows (and a KILLER view), 3 balconies, a gym, and a well equipped kitchen ran us a grand total of $41/night. The thieves marked up the price of beer so badly on New Years Eve that we had to pay THREE DOLLARS! An entree at a "treat yo-self" fancy restaurant was typically less than ten bucks. And don't even get me started on the 2 bedroom, 3 bathroom condo overlooking the ocean in Cartagena ($120/night, which was ridiculously inflated for NYE). I can't make this blasphemy up.

The weather is awful Every single day in Cartagena was sunny and hot, and our condo was directly across from the beach. Total garbage. We had to go lay in the sand in the beautiful Colombian sunshine, and cool off drinking Club Colombias (non-NYE prices were back to $1). It was still warm in the evening, so we could walk along the beaches at night, and I wore a dress out on NYE without ever feeling cold. Medellin is known as the city of eternal Spring, so we had to suffer through wearing jeans a t-shirts most days. It was even perfect for exploring via jogging, so I happily worked off all these affordable indulgences. Everyday I woke up and thought "why did I leave New England winter for this nonsense." Really...

There's nothing fun to do Aside from enjoying the ridiculously good food and drink scene, there was absolutely no fun to be had. Cartagena has a castle directly in the middle of the city (say WHAT) which was, of course, terrible to explore. We had tickets to the Storyland Music Festival, which was as boring as it sounds. Music for days, face painting, people dressed in crazy costumes, fireworks, and of course endless dancing. How much worse could it get? To top things off, we rented a motorcycle and drove through the countryside of Colombia to a small town called Guatape, where we climbed the 740 step path up El Peñón, a rock overlooking a stunningly beautiful archipelago. See? Terrible.

New Years Eve was a bore To ring in 2017 (and let's get real, ring out 2016, so glad to be done with that one!) I got all fancy and headed to the walled city in Cartagena. They hate fun so much that they covered the entire thing with crazy lights and shut down all the streets for pedestrians. The restaurants spilled out onto the road and hired DJs, so there was literally a dance party every time we turned a corner. There was a beautiful fireworks display at midnight, glow sticks everywhere, food and drinks a plenty, and a crowd full of jovial people. Did I mention this was all within an actual fortress? Next time you're looking to travel somewhere for NYE, don't even think about putting Colombia on your list.

The coffee was truly terrible This goes without saying, right?

I hope this list will convince any future travelers to never, ever visit Colombia. Take the advice of the overly scared Americans around you and avoid this magical place at all costs... whatever you do ;)

Pictures to come later!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Round 2 FAQs

Hola, friends and family who have faithfully followed me thus far! This blog post comes from a very special place - a REAL COMPUTER, with a REAL KEYBOARD! I’m typing so quickly I can’t even keep up with myself. Seriously, iPads are great for many things, but not blog posting... not even a little bit.

So, my very first blog post prior to leaving was an FAQ segment dedicated to the litany of repeat questions I received leading up to my departure. While I was home for two weeks over Christmas I had a similar experience, and since I unfortunately did not get to see all (most) of the people I would have liked to see, I figured I would repeat the process. This way, you only have to reach out to me if you have actual interest! You’re so very welcome.

How was it?

Yes, this was the most popular question. Uhm. Great?! I mean, I haven’t had a job or actual responsibility for the last 5 months. Life has certainly been worse! With that being said, I definitely had a rough adjustment process in the beginning. I was scared and lonely and mysteriously forgot how to speak Spanish, which as you might imagine created some serious issues. However, once I got into the swing of things I had an amazing, amazing time. There is nothing more liberating than waking up and realizing I can do WHATEVER I WANT today, tomorrow, or any day. My only real obligations have been plane tickets to other cool places, and if I didn’t get on the plane I would just lose some money. I’ve seen beautiful beaches, mountains, and cities, met some amazing people, and experienced life in a way that I never had prior. I wake up almost every day filled with immense gratitude that I’m living this lifestyle. So, yes, its been fantastic. I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to go back to real life ever again.

Are you getting what you needed out of this?

Yes, the hippies I surround myself with are very into feelings and want to know the in’s and out’s of my emotional well being. The truth is, there were two main reasons for me traveling. Reason one was, of course, to run away from the nightmare that was the year leading up to my trip. However, reason number two was that, hey, I’ve always wanted to do something like this! And though losing everything I had was really tough, it also presented me with the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream. So, to answer the question: Living the dream has been more rewarding than I can possibly explain. Getting out of my former routine and environment has been incredibly cathartic. Traveling alone has given me the opportunity to learn more about myself than I could have ever imagined, and experiencing other cultures and meeting people from all walks of life has helped put my own problems into perspective. Things aren’t perfect, but I can say with 100% certainty that traveling was the best choice I could have made.

When are you coming back?

Originally, my itinerary had me out for about a year, which puts me back home around September. However, after visiting my family for Christmas, I was reminded that Massachusetts winters are far and beyond the closest thing to a frozen hell that one could experience. Why would I come home just in time for the weather to turn against me like a stale relationship? (No, I’m not bitter at all...) I have an idea of the places I would like to visit, the approximate time I would like to be away, and a cap on the money I would like to spend. When I hit one of those I will reevaluate, but I’m hoping to not see winter for at least another year (I’m seriously still recovering from February of 2015, five blizzards in one month broke my soul.)

Whats the strangest food or drink you consumed?

This was a surprisingly popular question, and my answers are unfortunately disappointing. Food wise, I didn’t eat anything too crazy. I meant to eat cuoy (fried guinea pig), but my schedule in Peru was rudely interrupted by a PeruRail strike, and so I missed my opportunity. I would say the strangest food I ate was Alpaca: it was delicious, but I couldn’t help but think of that adorable Alpaca farm on Boston Rd that I drive by EVERY SINGLE TIME that I visit my parents. But... still delicious.

Drink-wise, I would have to hand the “weird” award over to Terremotos, the popular drink in Chile. Terremotos are made with a sweet white wine (so we’re already at odds, sweet drinks are disgusting), fernet (have you tried this? its horrific), PINEAPPLE ICE CREAM (what!?), and topped with grenadine. Who thought this was a good idea!?! One hostel I stayed at was offering them for free for an hour, and I had just checked my bank account so free was the magic word. But... they were awful. Truly, truly awful.

How was being home?

Being at home was both great and terrible. I am incredibly lucky to have an amazing family and group of friends whom I had missed dearly while away. I managed to see most (but not all, I’m looking at you Emily) of them while I was home, and I couldn’t have been happier! Most of you know that I have a bittersweet relationship with Christmas, so I was happy to be able to spend that dumb day with the people I love the most.

With that being said, I remembered how truly terrible New England winters are! I was beyond relieved to have a ticket to Cartagena, Colombia (average temp. 95 degrees) ready and waiting for me right after Christmas, as “10 degrees, feels like 3″ just doesn’t work for me anymore. All the UnderArmour Cold Gear in the world couldn’t prepare me for the chill in my bones I experienced when I came home!

Did you pack differently for this round?

YES! Round one I was completely prepared to live out of my backpack: I had a tent, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad. How many times did I use them? Zero. Literally, none. Meanwhile, I found myself in many more social situations than I had expected, and I all I had were clothes meant for farm work. Round 2 changes include: NO camping supplies (with the exception of mosquito netting, I rarely needed it but when I did it saved my life). MORE street clothes. I still have versatile clothes for working, but now if I want to go out to a restaurant or something absurd like that, I wont look like a total buffoon. I even have a fancy dress, which I packed for New Years Eve and am holding onto “just in case.” NO ukulele! When I imagined my travel lifestyle, it was living on isolated farms, sitting around campfires, and my ukulele was the key to making friends. When I ended up mostly working in hospitality and meeting friends for food, drinks, or beach/adventure activities, I realized my ukulele was nothing but dead weight/an additional fee on some low cost airlines. I miss it, but I do not miss lugging it around. And yes... I still have my travel rocks. Feel free to ask Deputy Judge for the full explanation of their secret powers.

How did your family deal with you leaving this time?

Not many people actually asked me this question, but the answer is so good I chose to throw it out there. When I left the first time, my entire family took the day off to help me pack and drive me to the airport. We took pictures together at Logan, and I was informed that they had to pull over the car on the way home because they were all sobbing. Round 2? I had to pull teeth to get a ride to my flight! In four months my family seemed to adapted quite well to having me gone, and seemed moderately inconvenienced to have to help see me off (in their defense I did fly out of Manchester, which is a fantastic airport by the way). They generally respond to my texts within 3-7 days now, so I think they’re adjusting well.

What’s the plan for this leg?

As was the plan the entire time, I am basing my travels primarily on weather. No more winter for this native New Englander! I left MA on December 28th for a few weeks in Colombia (more on that in my next post), and am now in Tucson, Arizona, visiting my extended family. I planned to head to Australia from here, but flights to Bali were so much more affordable, so... Bali it is! From there I plan to head to Australia and possibly New Zealand, and after that... who knows! My major priorities are doing MUCH more volunteering (this helps so much with my budget, which I’ve already blown through most of), and once the weather gets warmer, letting plane ticket prices guide my travels. Why make plans when you don’t have to, right?

What do you miss the most about home?

I’m surprisingly less homesick than I imagined, but there are a number of thing I miss and/or took for granted at home. In no particular order:

- Hot showers. This is a big one. In the incredibly hot cities (Bocas del Toro, Cartagena) this wasn’t a huge crisis, but in the milder climates (Banos, Cuzco, Santiago) this was incredibly unpleasant and definitely compromised my personal hygiene...

- Tap water. The hippie in me HATES the idea of bottled water, but my need for extreme hydration won out and forced me to buy absurd amounts of bottled water in every country. I spent way too much money and am certain I did irreparable damage to the environment. While in the states I am drinking tap water like its going out of style!

- Addresses. This is one I didn’t expect! You have no idea how useful addresses are until you don’t have one, and I have been incredibly shocked at how many countries just don’t use them. Mail? Taxis? Food delivery? Good luck!

- Clothes. This one also surprised me. I don’t believe I am a superficial person, and I would certainly never use the world “fashionable” to describe myself. However, when you wear the same 3 shirts for FOUR STRAIGHT MONTHS you really grow to miss literally anything else you own. More than once I found myself lurking my own facebook to remember my former wardrobe. RIP.

What will you do when you get back?

I have no idea. Seriously. I have no idea.

I hope this answered most of your questions! If not, you should know how to reach me by now, and if you don’t, I probably don’t care to hear from you. I am of course still open to visitors (though you’ll have to be patient with my lack of forethought in planning), and I’ll do my best to continue to update you all! In the meantime, enjoy all that snow ;)

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Mendoza, Mexico, Massachusetts: A Collection of ‘M’ Stories

Yes, I know, I am long overdue for this blog post. To be honest, I have tried to write it twice and completely failed. The first time was on my way home from Mexico, and Aeromexico (which is a fantastic airline) was handing out tequila like it was candy. Or peanuts? Either way, I re-read it the next day and decided it made no sense. I then tried again about a week later, and man was that update boring. So, here is attempt three - if it sucks, I’ll probably still publish it, so… sorry.

The last month or so has been a bit of a whirlwind, and currently has me at home in Massachusetts “enjoying” temperatures which has mostly been below 20 degrees. While reflecting on my time since my last update, I realized that there is a common theme: the letter ‘M.’ Enjoy, in list form, the things I’ve done which start with M. If they didn’t fit into this list, you can assume they’re not important.

MENDOZA After taking 4-5 days to recover from my time with Mike Judge, I hopped on a coche-cama bus (if you don’t know what this is, look it up and prepare to die of bus envy) from Santiago, Chile, to Mendoza, Argentina. I chose Mendoza mainly due to its accessibility from Santiago, as well as its reputation for having great wine, thus continuing my streak of putting virtually no thought into any major decisions. I didn’t have enough time to volunteer, so I “splurged” on a hostel which offered a free vineyard bike tour if I booked at least 4 nights. When I arrived, I discovered something magical - Mendoza not only known for wine, but also for having amazing outdoor activities! About one minute of research would have probably told me this, but hey, surprises can be really fun...

MALBEC One of my favorite activities in Mendoza was the above mentioned bicycle tour of the vineyards. I made a friend at the hostel who agreed to go on the tour with me, so we headed over to Mr. Hugo’s bike shop to pick up our adorable cruisers, which even came with baskets. Totally my style! Within an hour the two of us somehow managed to pick up about 10 extra friends, all of whom were from Holland but didn’t know each other? Our newly founded bicycle brigade stormed the streets of Maipu, where we learned a lot about the different vineyards, did pretty low-exertion bicycling, and occasionally purchased bananas off of street people.

MOUNTAIN BIKING Speaking of bicycling, I love it. But if you’re reading this you probably already know this about me, and you probably also know that I love being in the mountains. However, somehow in my 29 years of living with fully (semi?) functional cognitive abilities, I never thought to combine the two and try mountain biking. WHY!?! I got my first taste in Ecuador and absolutely loved it, so by the time I got to try again around the Andes (!!!) I was fully hooked. See pictures below… and I can say that with confidence because I’m using American internet. God bless Verizon Fios.

MEXICO After leaving Argentina (and after yet another brief recovery period in Santiago, which is apparently the city of hangovers) I headed north to Mexico. My journey to Mexico City could be described as a thing of nightmares, but I eventually made it… at 2:30 am. Once I finally got some rest, I had a blast exploring Mexico City - it really reminded me of New York if New York wasn’t so goddamn stressful. I enjoyed some amazingly cheap, bountiful street food, visited the Teotihuacan Ruins (worthy of a separate paragraph but they don’t start with M, so…), explored different areas of the city, even did some shopping! More importantly, I overdid it with my next ‘M’ topic:

MARGARITAS Yep. Had a few of these. I had a partner in crime in Mexico City, and we made a pact to stick to beer and wine during this trip. Then we realized we were in Mexico, and OBVIOUSLY we had to drink margaritas. So we made a new pact to only drink liquor on one night. And then we made another new pact where margaritas were actually excusable during the day, just no more than four. And now I’m 10 lbs heavier than I was when I left. Still not sure why....

MASSACHUSETTS After nearly four months of being away, I flew home for Christmas/jury duty on Dec 13th. There’s nothing like coming home after being away for awhile and immediately driving to the Worcester courthouse! For all of you who have been fretting over my safety while I’ve been away, rest assured - the most endangered I’ve felt since August was the brief walk I had from the Major Taylor parking garage to the courthouse on Main St, and then back again. The rest of the world is a piece of cake! Luckily, I was not selected and simply sat with a good book and a group of strangers for four hours. Since that gigantic sigh of relief, I have been spending a lot of time visiting friends and family, dealing with “real life responsibilities” (still unclear on what that actually means), and attempting to work off said 10 lbs at my beloved Hot Power Yoga Studio. Oh, and LITERALLY FREEZING ALL THE TIME! Seriously, I did not miss this weather for one single second. Not one. I am already thinking about how I can avoid experiencing this ever again.

MERRY CHRISTMAS Ok this ‘M’ is a bit of a stretch. But! It wouldn’t be fair for me to forget the real reason I came home, which was to spend Christmas with my family. Our celebrations began on the 17th, when we traveled to Manhattan (this makes this M category more legit) for our annual lunch/play celebration with my East Coast family. Of course, this was the one day we dealt with a real snowstorm, so our normal 3 hour journey took 5 hours and we missed our lunch. BUT! The play, Beautiful, was just that. It almost made up for the 8 total hours of traveling to spend 3 hours in the city… almost. Christmas Eve/Day was spent in Sutton, with my immediate family as well as some selected “chosen” family. In true Barlow fashion there was a fight to play DJ on the Sooloos, a LOT of dancing, and of course endless percussion instruments. Oh, and my dad made me the Thanksgiving meal I didn’t get to enjoy, aka I felt so full I could explode for several hours afterward. More importantly, there were no deaths, major health crises, or even crashed cars this holiday season (we have a bit of a trend). All this combined means it was a definite success!!

MORE!? Many people have asked me “are you going back out?” Although the idea of moving back to these icy depths of hell, dealing with a job search, and reestablishing my adult responsibilities sounds incredibly appealing, I am going to continue traveling for the time being. In fact, I leave tomorrow to spend a few weeks in Colombia! New Years will be spent in Cartagena, followed by a few days at the Storyland music festival, and then some time in Medellin. I’m particularly excited as I really regretted not visiting Colombia in round one… and because the forecast predicts 90 degree weather every single day. Not 20, or 10… or 3.

So, dear readers, I leave you with this 3rd and final draft of my blog, no matter how illogical it may be. If you’ve been one of the many people who has visited me, fed me, housed me, or anything else during my stay in Mass, THANK YOU!! If I missed you, well… I guess you’ll just have to come visit!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Peru and Chile in Pictures!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Mike and Marissa (almost didn't) do Machu Picchu

Greetings from my hostel bed in Santiago, Chile, where I have been for the last 3 days recovering from my most recent visitor: The Deputy, Mike "no judgey" Judge, writer of Beavis and Butthead, Silicon Valley, and much much more... or he works for the state. Still not sure. When I left to travel, many of my friends sent me off with false promises of coming to visit, but not Mike. When I said "hey maybe you should come down" he replied with "I have seven weeks of vacation time that I have to use - when should I buy a ticket for?" This was of course an impossible question as I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, but long story short... he showed up, I saw a familiar face for the second time in 3 months (isn't that shwwwwweird?) and it was every bit as epic as I had expected.

I almost missed my flight to Lima because I was overcome by an extreme craving for Doritos, and an unsuccessful search of the Quito airport left me once again sprinting to make the last call for my plane. However, I made it, Mike made it, and we spent an uneventful night in Lima before flying to Cusco. Our taxi dropped us off at the Plaza Del Armas, where the first thing we saw was Paddy's Irish Pub. As die hard 'Always Sunny' fans, we knew this was a sign from Pachamama that we were going to have a magical time.

Our first stop was our tour agency to confirm our trip to Machu Picchu. We had previously booked a 2 day, 1 night hike on the short Inca Trail to this mystical wonder of the world, which was to be the highlight of our trip. Upon our arrival, we were informed that Peru Rail was currently on strike for 48 hours, preventing us from hiking the Inca Trail. They offered us an alternative: a nine hour hike to Huchuy Qosco, another Incan ruin via another Incan trail. We would camp that night in a city called Urubamba, then take Peru Rail the following day to Aguas Calientes/Machu Picchu. We of course agreed to this two-for-one ruins deal, then ate just enough coca leaves to prevent a respectable nights sleep before our 5 AM wake up/ 14.2 mile hike. Luckily, the hike felt like a physical fight to the death at 12,000 ft with virtually no acclimatization, so being tired was the least of our problems! All joking aside, this hike was one of the most beautiful things I have ever been a part of. The mountains, the sacred valley below us, the river running through all of it... I have never seen scenery like this in my life. Every corner completely took my breath away, and only about 60% of that was from the altitude. We were part of a group of 12, and we got to know our fellow hikers as we went (2 were from Boston, hollahhhh). At several points along the hike the guides, Felipe and Jonathan, stopped to talk to us about different facets of the Quechua culture, the nature surrounding us, and life in general. We saw ancient ruins, walked stone paths that the Incan people built, and maybe did a couple headstands along the way. Maybe.

Giddy with adrenaline and/or altitude sickness, we were bussed to a fine dining establishment for dinner (it's hard to express sarcasm through text, but please know this is extremely sarcastic). Since we were early, we sat out on the patio and enjoyed a beverage, which is where our guides innocently asked us "would you like your tent set up on the patio or on the lawn?" ...uh what? Apparently our "campsite" was this restaurant... which was a surprise to us all. But, we rolled with it, and obviously we chose the lawn. After a reasonably ok dinner, one guide said "hey there's a karaoke bar next door, we should all go!" And what a great/terrible idea this was. I'm not sure whether it the hike, the 1 L bottles of Cusquena, or both (probably both), but our group took over the bar and completely went wild. Mike and I sang a duet of "A Whole New World," there was some DJ Sammy, Backstreet Boys, Bloodhound Gang, J Lo, Eminem... the list goes on. This day alone would have been enough to make the whole trip worth it, but we had to be up at 6:30 to head to Machu Picchu the next day, so we called it a night early. Now, this may surprise anyone who has seen me before ~11 am (again with the sarcasm), but I am NOT a morning person. So when Felipe "knocked" on my tent at not 6:30 but FOUR AM... I was incredibly displeased. The group gathered inside to find out that the strikes had been extended. Our only chance to see Machu Picchu was to leave by 4:45, drive for 4 hours, hike for 5 hours... and then they weren't actually sure we would get there, they couldn't guarantee our safety as the protests had turned violent, and they estimated our chances of returning that day as 50/50. We weren't going.

Some of the group took this news quite poorly, and took to excessive complaining. Our new friend, affectionately referred to as "the doctor," silently walked over to the restaurant's fridge, grabbed a bottle of white wine, and poured it for himself, Mike and I, and our new friend Stijn. This is officially the earliest I have ever started drinking, and based on how I felt by noon that day I hope to never break this record. I broke the restaurant door (NOT MY FAULT), we packed our bags, and made it back to Cusco before they stopped serving breakfast at the hostel. Since we had one more day in Peru we were told to that we could try again tomorrow, and much to our surprised the strike had lifted just in time! We once again awoke at an ungodly hour (seriously, I woke up at before 5 am more times this month than I have in my entire life) and took the van/train/bus ride up to Machu Picchu. Turns out this place is a wonder of the world for a very, very good reason! Words can't possibly do it justice, so enjoy these photos. What an amazing day we had! (Ugh sorry no pics once again, maybe later)

The rest of Mike's visit was fantastic, though the stories are much less exciting (or unacceptable for a public blog on the WWW). We went from Cusco to Santiago, Chile, where Mike broke down and paid for a hotel as he couldn't quite handle my impoverished hostel-based life style. It was there that we had our first caramelized onion-based meal. We later learned that nearly every meal in this entire country contains caramelized onions, which is a policy I think all countries should adopt. From there we traveled to Valparaíso, which is like a South American San Francisco but with funky, multi-colored houses and phenomenal street art. My favorite city so far... by day. By night? Different story. Mike and I bought a bottle of wine, partly to drink but mostly to serve as a weapon just in case we needed to smash a bottle in someone's face. So we decided to return to Santiago the following day, and spent our final few days enjoying Chorillana with a side of Carmenere in the first country I've been in where the cars actually stop for you when you're crossing the street. If you don't know what those things are, look them up when you're ready to be filled with jealously. Then look up terremotos, because we had them too and, seriously, they're disgusting.

Mike left the day before thanksgiving, and since then I have done little aside from read, write, and sleep (/not sleep, my insomnia has reached some all time highs recently). I spent my 80 degree thanksgiving reading under a palm tree in the Parque Forestal, and tomorrow I leave for Mendoza, Argentina to bike through some vineyards for a while. After that I'll meet up with a handsome sailor in the incredibly landlocked Ciudad de Mexico before coming HOME, to the land of snow and rude people, for a few weeks while I fulfill both civil and family obligations. If you want to hang, you can find me at Hot Power Yoga Studio, Central Rock Gym, or my parent's house because both my finances and transportation capabilities are quite limited. SEE YOU SOON AMIGOS!!

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Ecuador: A Tale of Four Cities

Big news everyone! I have been in Ecuador for a month now, and I can actually share most of what I've done! This segment of the trip has been significantly less debaucherous than Panama (my body and wallet thank me), AND I have so many exciting stories to share! So without further adieu, here are my tales from four cities in Ecuador: (amendment - once again, not enough internet for pictures! I'll make a picture post soon as I've got some really good ones from this segment)

QUITO Quito began with a bang: when I booked my flight, I received an email suggesting I enter my credit card information into a third party website. Knowing a scam when I see one, I of course did not follow through. Turns out, it was legit! So when I arrived at the airport.... I had no plane ticket. However, $200 and 24 hours later I landed in the capital city of Ecuador. I met my dad, who had employed the typical New England travel strategy of rushing through everything as fast as possible. He didn't realize that I have adopted a much more relaxed mentality... and thus waited for me for nearly two hours. Sorry dad! After a semi relaxing nights sleep (we both snore, apparently) we attempted to make the best of our one day in Quito. We hired a tour guide, Carlos, to show us around. Unfortunately, Carlos was highly under qualified. The tour mainly consisted of Carlos saying "where would you like to go?" And us saying "dude we don't know, that's why we're paying you." An attempt to drop Carlos ended in us all eating lunch together, so I think we were all doing something wrong here. However, Quito was pretty cool! See below:

GALAPAGOS The main purpose of my trip with my dad was to visit the Galápagos Islands, a dream vacation of mine! We left Quito as quickly as we arrived (aka much more slowly than expected) and flew to Baltra island, then made our way via bus/water taxi/crazy driver to who proposed to me while my dad was at the ATM, to the island of Santa Cruz, in the town of Puerto Ayora. Puerto Ayora itself was lacking much excitement, but it was a great central point to all the "happening" things in the Galapagos. Our biggest adventure was an excursion to Isla Isabela, which hosts many of the infamous animals of the Galapagos. We visited a turtle hatchery, saw wild flamingos, PENGUINS (this still makes no sense to me), and blue footed boobies. We went snorkeling and swam with sea turtles, eagle rays, and sea lions before being led into what can best be described as a sea corridor to swim with SHARKS. I was unaware that this was about to happen, so imagine my surprise when I found myself trapped in water that couldn't be more than 5 ft deep, in between rocks which couldn't be more than 3 ft apart from one another, with a seemingly limitless amount of white tipped sharks just casually swimming underneath me. Remembering my lack of respectable health insurance, I kept my hands by my side and my flipper movements minimal. As you can surely surmise, I lived to tell the tale and now feel like a complete badass. I swam with sharks! Beat that! We also went on some shorter excursions around the island we were on, which ended up being quite endearing. We saw a couple of really cool "sinkholes" (which all has signs explaining that they are not sinkholes, but whatever they were close), explored lava tunnels, and I visited the "columpio magico," aka "magic swing." There were no explicit instructions about making a wish on this magic swing, but I figured it was a given. Unfortunately, I still have not found my single, handsome, funny, intelligent gentleman with no family ties who can tolerate my nonstop dancing and puns... so maybe I didn't swing high enough. Another short excursion involved visiting "El Trapiche," a VERY small farm which harvests sugar cane and coffee beans. They don't take reservations, mainly because they certainly don't have internet and I would be shocked to find a phone. So to see it you just show up and say to one of the three employees "hey can we have a tour?" One out of one time it was successful. They taught us how to make coffee beans, from the plant to enjoying a cup of coffee! They also showed us how they make juice from cane sugar, and then use the juice to make granulated sugar, molasses, or "aguardiente" aka firewater. The end of the tour involves drinking homemade coffee with homemade sugar spiked with homemade fire water. Delicious doesn't do it justice! ...then we went home and took a long nap. Later that night, when all the world was sleeping (just delete me from your friends now if you don't get that), we were awoken by two VERY loud bangs a few minutes apart. We looked out the window toward the bay, where we saw one of the local boats literally exploding before our eyes :( This stimulated a too-heavy-for-3 am discussion about bystander apathy, and unfortunately we watched the boat disappear completely. Quite the heavy ending to a beautiful trip!

PAPALLACTA When our highly under qualified tour guide/taxi driver was driving us to the airport in Quito, he happened to point out a volcano which had a town at the top called Papallacta. Upon further investigation, Dad and I decided it was the right place to spend our last 3 days, which had previously been unplanned. Located at 10,000 ft, our resort was surrounded by thermal baths naturally heated by the all too active volcano underneath us. With a plethora of spa services available at all times, it seemed like the perfect place to ride out the cold I caught in the Galapagos (which was certainly not caused by my dad peer pressuring me to drink the firewater from El Trapiche when I said I wasn't feeling well... really). We spent the long weekend relaxing in the hot springs and getting a massage every day, and I left feeling quite cured! The Papallacta segment of this post ends here, because I was mostly sick and also because I am going to completely overcompensate with my next segment:

BAÑOS This is going to be a very long story, dead readers, you might want to get a snack! I selected Baños de Agua Santa, aka Baños,as it is heralded as the adventure capital of South America - it did not disappoint! Below, enjoy a list of my adventures which, wifi strength allowing, will include photos: 1. Chiva waterfall ride! Baños (and maybe other cities) have a magical creation called Chivas... it may be spelled Chiba, one can never tell with that Latin American B/V thing. Let's assume it's a V. Chivas are basically 18 wheelers with an open trailer in the back. They load as many people in as humanly possible, blast all kinds of neon lights to distract you from the fact that you're being herded like cattle, and then bump Reggaeton at maximal volume to really make you feel comfortable. All that aside, no one seems to care if you bring a beer and they bring you to some beautiful places, so Chivas are OK in my book. This particular Chiva took me to the "ruta de las cascadas," a well known route where you stop at most of the many famous waterfalls surrounding this city. In between, you can choose from some other small activities. I chose to ride a suspended tram across a beautiful valley between two large mountains. I was in the second group, so I watched the first group happily ride across to the other side. My group boarded, rode about 3/4 of the way there... then the tram stopped abruptly, reversed direction, and dropped us off where we started. I am still unclear on whether we were rejected, or whether the first group was kidnapped. Prayers are welcome for all of us. 2. ROCK CLIMBING!! If you have made it this far and don't know how much I love rock climbing... well... congrats, you're a more dedicated reader than I would ever be. I LOVE rock climbing, but due to a lack of equipment/time/friends I have been limited to the gym for some 6 - 7 years now! I know, shame on me. I decided that if I were ever going to make it outside, Ecuador would be the place... even if I had sent home all my equipment in early September after a frustrating week with my gimpy ankle. I hired a guide and we went to Ines María, a popular rock climbing location formed entirely by (very, very slippery) volcanic rock. Turns out, outdoor climbing is incredibly challenging! I have an excessive amount of photos and videos of me falling, or screaming "attencíon!" which is essentially the Spanish equivalent of "take!" With that being said, I had an amazing time. I got to enjoy one of my favorite activities in the fresh air, surrounded by unbelievable beauty. For my last climb, my guide climbed up first and belayed me from above so we could both sit and enjoy nature from ~60 ft above the river. It was a perfect introduction to outdoor climbing! 3. Canyoning! I signed up for canyoning, or canyoneering in the states, with little knowledge of what it actually was. I saw some pictures that looked like rock climbing with water, and happily signed away $25 and possibly my entire life. If, like past me, you are not aware of what this is, it's rappelling down waterfalls. With about 10 minutes of safety training, in Spanish. While wearing what can best be described as glorified Keds. I decided my best course of action was to watch someone else before trying, so I watched a young, fit looking woman fall all over the first waterfall and look like she was nearly drowning. I definitely wasn't nervous... However, after my first trip I was hooked! Even with the waterfall destroying any hopes I had of looking attractive, canyoning was so much fun. I rappelled down 2 waterfalls, slid down the third like a slide with a partner, then was basically thrown off a cliff for the fourth, which was a 120 ft free fall into one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen! Once I stopped peeing my wetsuit, I was completely enamored by my surroundings. Unfortunately, you can't take pictures when you're thrown off a waterfall cliff, so you'll just have to trust me on this one. 4. Chimborazo! Although I put rock climbing in all caps, it's definitely Chimborazo that deserves such an honor. I befriended a local guide (THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING DIEGO) who highly recommended that my fellow volunteer and I spend our day off at this mountain. Chimborazo is the closest point on earth to the sun - thought not the highest above sea level, its location on the equatorial bulge makes it the tallest point on earth. Of course we had to go! Four of us made the treck, with a mysterious taxi driver and four mountain bikes in tow "just in case." When we arrived at the first of 3 stopping points, we were highly encouraged to not use our bikes. The roads were unsafe and the temps were too cold for comfort. We stored that information for later and hiked up the last 1.3 miles that the average, non-mountaineer tourist can hike. It was in theory an easy hike, but at nearly 17,000 feet we were all gasping for breath. However, this was unimportant as we were completely awestruck by what we saw. The peak of Chimborazo was a beautiful shade of red, contrasted by stark white glaciers and rolling cumulus clouds. If someone has taken a sound clip, it would have been silent aside from our constant panting and the occasional "holy shit guys. Do you see this? Holy shit." After taking upwards of 600 pictures of the exact same thing, we trecked back down to about 15,000 ft, where our bikes were waiting in the truck. It was time to make the call... but first we had to find our guide, who we had left at the last stopping point. I was already skeptical about biking down, but when we found our very experienced guide hooked up to oxygen after passing out and puking from altitude sickness, I decided I was going to drive down to safety. Luckily, I cave quickly to peer pressure... my other 2 companions grabbed their bikes and I was not far behind. As we strapped on our helmets my roommate said "this is probably stupid, but let's do it." It may have been stupid, but it was one of the best things I've done so far on this trip! Mountain biking was incredible, the scenery was stunning, and I felt so amazingly free! After an exhilarating ride down, we had a brief but interesting run-in with the Ecuadorian police. It was my first experience with the police in a country where bribery is expected in police interactions. Luckily, our mysterious taxi driver had connections with the local police, so none of us ended up paying anything... all part of the experience, right?

Though I chose Baños for it's adventurous reputation, it would be unfair not to highlight the volunteering opportunity that I took part in when not adventuring. I chose to work at a local Spanish school with attached housing, but quickly moved into the home of the family to be the live in cook/nanny/maid/whatever was necessary at the time! This afforded me the opportunity to witness firsthand the life of a South American family, and their generosity and openness allowed me to feel like I was a part of it. The mother and her three children, ages 8, 10, and 12, showed me so many aspects of life in Baños that I wouldn't have seen otherwise. I visited the elementary school on Dia de los DiFuntos (day of the deceased aka day of the dead), helped the kids with their homework, learned how to play Ecuadorian hide and seek (WAY more intense than ours, happy to teach you while I'm home), and listened to my host tell me stories about when the volcano exploded in 2006. We talked about life, travel, and everything in between, and I feel like I've left with a second family.

As I leave Ecuador, I am blown away both by the things I've done and how quickly time is passing. I've been traveling for 3 months now, and exactly a month from today I will board a flight home for the holidays. How do I slow down time?! Luckily, there is still plenty more to do. As I wrap up this post (which I began writing over a week ago), my flight to Peru is about to land. I'll be meeting the honorable Mike Judge, and we have permits to hike Machu Picchu! So hang tight, dear readers... more and more goodness to come :)

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rissaroundtheworld · 8 years

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Bocas: A Lesson on Expectations and Reality

Buenas my impatient readers! Many of you have recently been harassing me about my abrupt drop in posts. Remember I said in the beginning that if I quit, I would just stop posting and you'd never know what happened? Good news, that's not the case here. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I've been having an amazing time, and keeping quite busy. This, combined with the fact that most of my behavior has been unacceptable for a public blog post (Hi Grandmother! I love you!), and you might understand why I haven't been as active. I expected to give you more, which leads to the theme of this post: expectations vs reality. When comparing my plans with other travelers I've met along the way, I've realized that I didn't put a lot of time and effort into planning - I basically took about a week to decide to leave, threw my house on the market (yes, this was so much more complicated than this phrase makes it out to be), and quit my job the day I signed the P&S. I'm not a fan of overthinking things (though maybe I should be, see: marriage). Although not a lot of time for planning/overthinking, it was plenty of time to develop certain expectations about the journey ahead. These expectations changed quite a bit along the way, but they had one thing in common: they were all wrong. Here are some fine examples of my false expectations:

WORK Expectation: I would spend the whole trip volunteering on farms. I would magically become a morning person (this alone should have been a red flag to how unrealistic my ideas were), and would spend each day breathing in the fresh air, basking in the sunlight, and doing healthy, active tasks like harvesting produce and making things with it. Even if one of those things was brandy. Reality: As you all know, my farm experience ended much sooner than expected, and on a slightly sour note which pushed me toward hospitality. Instead of this mystical organic lifestyle I had originally imagined, I spent my days inside the reception area of Panama's Paradise, a series of guest houses all over the islands. I did a lot of sitting, gChatting, and drinking the free beer that was provided in exchange for my "work." I learned some key phrases in Spanish: 'Necesito cafe' (I need coffee) and 'Tengo resaca' (I have a hangover). I did not learn enough to speak to disgruntled guests on the phone, so when they couldn't speak English I just hung up on them.

FOOD Expectation: While living on this magical farm and doing these healthy farm activities, I would of course be munching on my organic harvest throughout the day. I would be healthy and well nourished, with glowing skin and a perfect metabolism. Maybe I would enjoy a nightcap at the end of the evening made with my homemade brandy, and then sleep beautifully for 8-10 hours a night. Reality: For some reason I did no actual farming on the farm, which meant my diet consisted of eggs, eggs, and more eggs. I got so sick of eggs I opted to eat nothing over another freaking omelette, several times. My beloved aunt stashed some chocolate in my pack before I left, and I rationed myself a small amount each day. It had pretzels in it, which is nourishment... right? Once I arrived on the main island I had a kitchen and lived right across from Mini Super Calle 8, which meant I could make whatever I want (except Michiladas, they had no Clamato, I swear). But poverty, a lack of proper kitchen tools, and general laziness led me to eat little more than cheese, peanut butter sandwiches, and MORE EGGS. Once, I discovered that my peanut butter sandwich was full of ants. Instead of being upset I appreciated the extra protein.

LIFESTYLE Expectation: After a rewarding but tiring day on the farm, my fellow volunteers and I would play games, do yoga, and sing songs around the campfire. I would journal every night, improve on my ukulele skills, maybe even do some arts and crafts. On the weekends we would hike, bike, camp, etc. Reality: moving to the main island put me right in the thick of things; I was surrounded by all there is to do in Bocas. "Unfortunately" (I'm using that term very loosely), all there is to do is go out to eat, go out for drinks, or go to the beach... so that I did. I tried as many of the top 10 trip advisor restaurants as was manageable, and I'm pretty sure we caused a nationwide shortage of Balboa, the more respectable of the two local beers. I checked out most of the beaches, which were all incredibly beautiful and warm, and soaked in that vitamin D. See you never, Cape Cod... seriously.

TRAVELING Expectation: To be honest, when I left for Panama alone I was completely terrified. I clung to my luggage, hid all my money, and was ready to throw down the second any human being spoke to me. Having never traveled alone internationally, I braced myself for the worst. In the beginning I trusted no one, spoke to no one, and kept everything I owned in a constant state of lockdown. When things went wrong, I would immediately panic and envision the inevitable robbery/kidnapping/life of panhandling (or worse!) that was about to begin. Reality: I believe that Bocas was the perfect place for me to test out solo traveling, and I'm so glad I spent as much time there as I did. Once I got to know my surroundings better (which is easy to do when you spend a month somewhere), I realized that I felt incredibly safe - I can say with 100% conviction that I felt safer in Bocas Del Toro than I did living on Grafton Hill (seriously)!!! Where in the beginning I clung to my double locked luggage, by the end I was leaving my cash on a bench in a bar so I could rope swing into the ocean... because that's what you do at bars in Panama. I'm realizing what all the other solo female travelers I've consulted have said: you can't let your guard down completely, but the world is mostly good.

OTHER THINGS THAT SURPRISED ME - I am not that tan. Most of you probably know I am a sunscreen nazi, but I couldn't possibly lather myself in SPF50 all day everyday like I wanted to. I 'screened up on the beach but that was it! Somehow, I can still pass for Casper the friendly ghost, but maybe after some bronzer or something. I don't actually know what bronzer is, so don't quote me on that. - Speaking of the sun, I knew it would be hot and humid... but I did not fully grasp what that meant. I am not one to sweat too much, at best I'll have a solid glisten on after a 5 mile run. But in Bocas... man did I sweat. Not a glisten, but a full on sweat dripping down your body kind of sweat. All day, everyday. I would do a workout, think about showering, and then realize there was absolutely no point as I would be just as sweaty in about 10 minutes. Ultimately, this saved me a lot of time (and makeup, no way that was happening down here). - How much I appreciate my Tevas. If you've read my previous posts, you know I had an eye opening moment when I found myself wearing Tevas with socks. Luckily I have not yet repeated this act (see above regarding sweating my tush off), but I did find myself wearing them every second of every day. The end result? Teva tan lines. I am not proud. - How hard it is to not buy things. I am not materialistic, and I absolutely hate shopping. However, when I had an income and a house and things like that, I bought what I wanted when I wanted it. While traveling, I REALLY can't buy anything. One, I have no income so why would I spend money that I don't really have? Two, whatever I buy has to be carried on my back, so I have to want something pretty badly. I did break this rule to buy a Balboa shirt, as this beer basically defined my time in Panama. Totally worth the diez dolares and small amount of space in my pack. So things have not gone according to plan, but they have been nothing short of amazing. After a bit of a rocky start, I think I've finally adjusted to the traveling lifestyle. I've woken up everyday for the past few weeks and thought "what am I going to do today?" followed by "oh yeah, whatever I want" which has quite frankly been one of the best feelings I have ever experienced. I anticipate many more bumps in the road, but I'm feeling great about this whole endeavor and what's in store for the future! So with that, I am about to meet my dad (who I haven't seen since August!) in Ecuador for a trip through Quito and the Galapagos. Life is alright!

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