Joined April 2018 Message
  • Day23

    Tajikistan, an Overview

    August 15, 2018 in Tajikistan ⋅ ☀️ 36 °C

    Seeing the wifi was close to non existent in this country, blogs were mostly kept for myself. But I have some general thoughts to share, so here goes :


    Tajikistan. The name alone sounds intimidating to me. For half my life, Americans have been at war with a "stan", and I've been taught to beware - big words like Taliban and ISIS come up with mention of the "stans" when in North America. And despite being somewhat well traveled, countries of more conservative Islamic culture and Muslim faith are mostly unknown to me.

    Central Asia has never been on my list of top destinations. Truth be told - I didn't even know there was a country called Tajikistan until my partner announced she was going. But Tajikistan it was. In my mind, I started shaping it to be this big intimidating monster of the unknown. One that I thought my gender ambiguity, tattoos and gauged ears would make of me a target of some kind. Or at the very least, invite negative reactions.

    Because I hyped this trip up so much in my mind as something I should be intimidated by, it took me a few days to really open up and fully enjoy this adventure.

    In all honestly - I've never crossed more generous, polite, genuinely nice people. My partner, who is not new to conservative Islamic countries, had told me stories of the generosity that is part of the muslim faith and culture, but it took me being here physically to really understand it.

    Everyone I cross, everyone, says "Salam" while placing their hand over their heart. A genuine hello, not the usual yelling of "hello" in a mocking tone by children I'm so used to hearing in many other counties. Everyday we are invited at least once into someone's home for tea, if not multiple times. But a tea invitation isn't just that - within minutes of sitting in someone's home, a buffet of plates are served with candies, nuts, dried fruits, whatever foods they have to offer you. And if you happen to be passing around meal time, they will gladly serve you a plate of whatever they've cooked without you asking for anything. And the bread. Boy do they like bread here, breaking of these huge pieces of bread and placing them in front of you, expecting you to finish it all. And they insist that you keep eating - as if hunger has no end. Being full just isn't an option.

    Their generosity is seen in so many other ways - our transport van (taxi-ish) from Khurog to Qurgonteppa (which ended up being 14.5 hours long) had to change a flat/deflated tire five times while on the road - and every single time another car passed by, it stopped and their driver would come out to help change the tire. And the people in this other car, usually also paying customers of a transport van, quietly waited while their driver helped our driver with the tire. Every single time.

    We were invited to a wedding celebration and the 2 men who spoke decent English (out of likely over 100 guests) came by to introduce themselves, explain the festivities around us, and make sure we had enough tea and food around us to enjoy this wedding.

    We were toured around Istaravshan by car by two bankers, showing us their favorite sites, walking around the newly constructed citadel, all with the soul purpose of encouraging tourism for their city.

    I've never felt more welcomed as a tourist. It's sad to say that my instinct when someone invites me into their home, or wants to lead me somewhere, is to be guarded, and assume there will be some kind of catch. A charge at the end? A scheme? Something. This instinct comes from the many countries that I've traveled and that do, unfortunately, see tourist as an opportunity for their own personal benefit. Tajik people have changed that for me. I don't have to be on my toes when I'm being offered something, they see me as a guest in their country and want to be the best hosts (as someone has explained to me along the way). And this has been the exact impression left on me - I was hosted throughout my stay in Tajikistan, and it was lovely.

    And yes - my look does attract the usual longer stares... Stares that are often filled with confusion. But these stares end up being more from curiosity - at first trying to figure out my gender, often followed by conversations amongst themselves about what they've concluded on my gender, quickly followed by "how can a women have such short hair? Or tattoos? Or ears like that?". None of which actually made me feel judge. Most people would end their starring with pointing to their ears and giving a thumbs up, as if to say they like my gauges.

    North American culture has taught us that staring isn't polite, that we should avoid prolonged eye contact with strangers. I'm quick to look to the ground when around strangers. But one is quickly reminded that many cultures around the world do not see staring as a faux pas. It just isn't a thing. And lengthy, eye to eye contact, and head to toe scanning, is perfectly acceptable. Looking like me simply means you have to accept the staring and try to understand it as a study of the unknown, not a judgment. After all, I'm in their country to do the same - study an unknown culture.
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  • Day22


    August 14, 2018 in Tajikistan ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    Istaravshan. It only took 6 hours to travel 150kms to get here, but we made it! Our amazing ability to pick out vehicles for transport continues, as I sat on the middle console of an SUV facing backwards, Jack on the back seat with 3 other men, with 2 women and 3 children in the trunk. After 2 hours, Jack and I switched, her bum fitting a little easier between the two front seats - what a champ! Oddly enough, this felt pretty normal, I was back in East Africa for a moment. What wasn't so great - this vehicle's motor was over heating on just about any incline (remember - we are in a country 95% covered by mountains) and wouldn't start unless pushed forward. We were driving at around 15-20 km/hour for around 3 hours. We stopped about 5 times to open up the hood and poor water on the motor to cool it down, only to then play the game of pushing the car forward to start and having the four men pushing jump back in while not stopping the motor. Our shared taxi from Veshab to Ishtavarshan was 70tjs each, 30tjs for Veshab to Ayni and 40tjs for Ayni to Ishtavarshan. That was figured out with the other passengers after the driver wanted to charge us 200tjs of course. Taxi drivers have been the only people to over charge us - I guess I can give them points for trying. Minibuses, markets, shops - all seem to be charging us actual prices, but not taxis. Trick is - never ask the price, just get in like you know already, and ask the passengers next to you.

    Sadbarg Hotel offered us a double room for 100tjs total, no shower. Yes - hotel rooms come without showers and a shared toilet down the hall. Cheapy-cheapy! Location was perfect, right across from the main square which gets pretty lively at night with families and kids running around... You can see the citadel lit up from the square - quite the view.

    Walking through old town brought us to the first mosque; Hazreh-I-Shah. Jack being so well traveled had the great idea to bring along a head covering for mosque visiting - my trusty bluff! With my head sock on, we explored a beautiful mosque - mostly new extensions to an older, smaller mosque with a beautifully decorated minaret. All the ceilings had detailed colorful paintings, definitely worth a quick visit.

    We then ventured off further into old town towards the Havzi-Sangin mosque. We were greeted by a man (who seemed to be a random local, who first decided to face-time with his friend in Russia showing our faces on his call (quite common this filming of us from a foot away thing), then made another phone call to a lovely older man who showed up to unlock the doors to the mosque and lead us inside for a visit. Again - beautiful paintings on the ceilings, but rather bland walls and dusty cardboard boxes for a floor. I assumed they were renovating. The lovely man then took out a paper book and asked us to sign it - I always find these books funny. Who writes a negative comment in a book which is only seen by tourist who are already visiting the same mosque?

    Next step - Kok-Gumbez, or Sultan Medresa. Yards away from our destination a man (Aziz) pulled up in his car, asked where we were from (classic), following by asking if he could accompany us to the Medresa. He then parks his car and walks us over. We knew the way, not to worry, but it was clear he was excited to practice a bit of English. So off we went to visit the Medresa - it had a very impressive tiled fromt entrance which in my eyes showed a lot of character, but in Jack's eyes showed a bit of wear and tear... The best part of the Medresa : the older gentleman out front with his bird for "bird fighting" in a cloth bag, pined to his shirt, and close to his heart. He said having the bird against his heart made it stronger. He then explored my tattoos and gave me multiple thumbs up. I had never made the connection - but after seeing a bird tattoo on one arm, and an arrow on the other - he asked me if it was a bow and arrow to hunt the bird. I didn't realise I had a theme to my tattoos until today!

    Aziz, not being done practicing his English, offered us a tour of the city in his car. How can we say no? He seems lovely. Tajik people are lovely. All good! So into his car we go, drop by the bank he works in to pick up his friend who has a similar level of English and who was also keen on chatting, and off to another mosque we go! This one was closed and there was no magical bearded man to unlock it. Bust.

    We head to the citadel instead - Mugtepe. I'm so glad we had a car - the walk uphill would have killed my already beaten legs - still paying the price of the Aloudin - Artush hike. On the drive over, we had fun comparing family traditions from Tajikistan to Canada's. Jack said she lived with her boyfriend and was not married - their first thought was how come she didn't live with her parents if she wasn't married? We explained how this was normal in Canada. We introduced the idea of unwed couples having children, and Rohman (Aziz's friend) couldn't fathom the idea of sex outside of marriage. He was 27 years old and single, poor guy. When I explained that I had one married brother without children, two married sisters with children and one unwed sister with a child - his world was rocked. Good thing I kept my life out of that conversation. They shared what we already knew from readings, they live with their parents until married, and usually the wife moves in with the husband and his family, or at least close to his family. The only way they can go on a date of sorts is if they've already declared their love for one another and are likely to marry. Yikes.

    Our guide book mentioned reconstructed gates of an old citadel, but it failed to mention the current massive reconstruction of a full circular citadel with an amphitheater inside. The building itself was beautiful - although likely no where near the look of the original. Carved wood all over the amphitheater, well kept gardens, and of course a cold drink vendor. We got to enjoy amazing views of the city before we were dropped back off at our hotel. Jack did her usual offering of her Facebook account, knowing full well that she would never accept their friend request, not wanting to out us as a couple while in this country. And I did my usual avoiding of the conversation or denying I had Facebook. I loved my afternoon with these two polite, genuinely nice men who simply wanted to improve the experience of these two travelers. My favorite quote of Aziz's : "Tajikistan... Tajiks... not much money, but big hearts".

    In truth - this town was actually a little hard for me. At the suggestion of the men, we walked over to the "big flag pole" where we were promised love music and a lively local croud, which there was. There was also a lot of teenage boys, who without wanting to generalize too much, have always been my toughest croud. It is the first time in 3 weeks I have truly felt judge. I could see and hear the people around me speak of me, laugh, point, tap their friend so they can join in the fun of looking at this odd creature. I've been asked my gender more often in this one night then the rest of my time in this country. And usually I can justify the stares as a curiosity, sensing no judgment from those who ask, but this was different. It didn't come from curiosity, it came from mockery. I was not welcomed here, and I knew it. Sorry, bitter paragraph for a difficult night.

    This evening left me feeling a little underwhelmed by Istaravshan. Yes, there's beautiful mosques, beautiful town squares, nice citadel, nice bankers... But my experience was tainted. Jack having the more objective opinion says it was a great city, with few tourists, that she would recommend. Also, even I will admit, it had a great and lively bazaar!
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  • Day20


    August 12, 2018 in Tajikistan ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C

    Such a tiny little town you weren't even on our trusty Both our guide books (Central Asia Lonely Planet and Tajikistan Bradt) had a single little paragraph on Veshab, but just enough to entice us.

    These few lines in the guide book said Veshab was 47km away from Ayni, the central transport hub. Who knew 47km meant 2 hours! I guess we should have known, having seen the road conditions on the Pamir Highway, but silly us - we thought this would be a quick little jump over to a small town before finishing our journey in 2 larger cities. FYI - we paid 50 sumoni each for this ride, which I actually think was slightly over priced, which translate to roughly 6.90$CAD, for 2 hours of a ridiculously bumpy ride (confirmed by hotel owner - this ride should have cost 15-30 sumoni,ouch!).

    After we communicated to our taxi driver that we want to be dropped off at the tea house (using "chai" as the Tajik word for tea, followed by putting our hands together to form some kind of roof), we were brought to "downtown" Veshab - which consisted of one closed tea house, a single shop, and then houses. All along the mountains were these picturesque mud houses, surrounded by greenery, with the sounds of a spring making it's way through town. Green is always a welcomed sight in Tajikistan, considering how dry and rocky their mountains usually are.

    As our guide book only had two suggestions for sleep - either a home stay (usually organized from the tourist agencies in larger cities, which we obviously didn't do) or staying in the back of the tea room (which is apparently closed), we needed to improvise so we wandered into the shop and hoped for the best. We asked the man and young boy behind the counter "Mex-ma-hona?" (guesthouse) in our best Tajik with our hands in the air as if to say "where?". They both nod their heads no. We ask again. The nod no. We aimlessly point towards the town then laid our heads on our hands asking where in town can we sleep? And they point to the closed tea room across the street. We may have needed to organize this ahead of time. But low and behold! Another man pops in and says "hotel?" "Yes!" "yes, yes, here" he replies. Wait a minute - your two side kicks sent us away, and you're saying this is a hotel? Sure enough, he signals us over to a side gate, we follow in, he shows us 2 large rooms, one of which was mostly empty except for the usual pile of floor mattresses in the corner, and the other of which had a ridiculously elaborate buffet of food laid out. After we agreed on a price, which was 15$USD for both of us, for two nights, he invited us to sit at the buffet table.

    There were at least 20 plates laid out in front of us; fruits, nuts, candy, mini chocolate bars, even bottles of pop. He brought out bread and tea, and as we filled ourselves up with everything in front of us (big mistake), his wife brings in a potato and beef dish with a full bowl of their soured milk / yogourt thing. Do these people not know how little I usually eat!? Wanting to be polite, I forced myself to eat almost to the point of being sick, and when I signaled I was done - I was told to keep eating.

    The lovely wife of the hotel and shop keeper asked us if we wanted to go see some dancing (basically pointing to us, pointing to her eyes, then shaking her hands like dancers here do). We could hear some music from where we were sitting but didn't know why. So naturally, we followed, despite being exhausted from a long day of transport and hiking (2.5 hours of hiking in the morning, 6 hours of transport), likely not looking or smelling our best.

    A short walk brought us to a wedding celebration which seemed like the entire town was in attendence. We quickly saw the segration of men and women, and stuck with our hotel lady who stood in the crowd of women surrounding a grassy patch of land which I can only imagine will become the dance floor. That is until a women popped by and grabbed Jack and I by the arm and motioned to follow her. A quick look at our hotel lady for the approval to follow and we were whisked away to a table of seated women. A VIP table it seemed (which we were later told the tables were for out of town guests with invitations). Of course we were served bread and tea and later a full plate of food despite my many attempts to say we quite litteraly just ate at the hotel. So again, I make an effort to eat out of politeness, almost starting to resent this forceful eating.

    After a few speeches, the music starts, and dancers emerge from the crowds. Women at one end, men at the other. It's refreshing to see that not all men (seemingly heterosexual considering the strong Muslim beliefs) in the world act like it would be the death of them to show affection to one another, and dance together. Two men approached us with an introduction that sounded like "hello. How are you? I speak English if you need help". It was clear they both wanted to practice their English, which we welcomed. They helped us understand why the bride and groom, who were in a booth like elevated box, were continuously bowing up and down for what seemed like an hour - they were showing respect to their family members by doing so. They looked so incredibly bored compared to the rest of the crowd now either dancing or joyfully looking at the people dancing. One of the English speaking men, who runs a guesthouse in town through a tourist agency, even decided to take the microphone and say a speech on our behalf, in English, thanking the 2 Canadians for attending these festivities and welcoming us to their town. I both felt nauseous from the amount of people looking at me (social anxiety to the max at this point), and felt warmed that he would go to such lengths to make us feel welcomed. It was an amazing experience and one that, despite our dirty clothes, was memorable.

    The next day in Veshab consisted of walking through residential alleyways, constantly saying "Salam" with a hand on our heart to everyone who passed, we were guided around town at first by one of the shop keeper's boys - brought into his school, shown a poster with "English speaking countries" which included Canada (only 5 were displayed, which surprised me that Canada was part of it), he mostly would yell out English words that he remembered from school which we would then try to figure out considering the poor pronunciation.

    This being a relax day, we spent an hour in our room expecting to quietly read our books but I ended up spending this hour with this same boy, his friend, and their English learning school book reading English words, with me trying to show them correct pronunciations while miming the word so they know what it means. It was a tough game of charades and English class mixed together.

    All in all, small town with lots of character. A must stop in Tajikistan, if you ask me.
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  • Day11


    April 19, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ ⛅ 10 °C

    We started asking the different outfitters about the Acatenango hike for Jack. First one - 129$ US, but they don't leave until Saturday (we are Tuesday at this point). Next one - 89$, also only leaves Saturday. Better price, not better timing.

    Finally we stumble upon Wicho and Charlie - a hostel which offers its own hike. 450Q, so 62$ and they offered free breakfast the departure morning, which the others did not! Now I know price shouldn't mean everything considering this is a big hike with lots of equipment needed, but we did read a couple reviews and they seemed just as well reputed as the others. Bonus - their Basecamp was already set up, so we didn't have to carry a tent like the other outfitters, score! In comes cute girl - telling me I'll regret not doing it, that it's easier then people make it seem, that if she can do it, I can do it... I didn't want to give in, considering I've regretted every hike I've ever done, but she spoke my language : "10 minutes into it, I wanted to turn around. I said fuck this. I tried to come up with an illness that would allow me to turn back. But I pushed through and it was so worth it". Sounds about right. So I signed up, and hired a porter named Balthazar to carry my backpack for me. I had a borrowed winter jack, hat, gloves and 6L of water in the bag! It weighed a tone! Lol. I loved that man, best 200Q I've ever spent.

    Side note - we met this little Asian lady when hiking in the Maritimes on our last road trip - when we were walking up an incline (it wasn't crazy long) she was telling us about the power of meditation - she just looked at her feet and counted every step up to 10, starting over and over again. That allowed her to get into a trance like state and she could hike any mountain. She partially outran us and I gave her around 70 years old.

    So her wisdom was utilized - on the day of the hike, I just stared at my feet, and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Kept my mind blank, unlike my usual thoughts of "fuck this, this is shit, I'm turning back". With Balthazar by my side, I actually did pretty good! Granted, it helped everyone around me was slowed down by their bags, including Jack who was carrying my 30L bag, with 2L of water, this borrowed whitish winter jacket and a few extra layers of clothing. That energy bunny though was unstoppable, encouraged me throughout, was always first in the pack, first to want to keep going, it was both impressive and annoying. :)

    The average hiking time is 5 hours - we did in 4! They likely say 5 hours to make you feel proud when you arrive early, but who cares, 4 hours bitches! Balthazar did great - this 5 foot tall beer belly middle age man never broke a sweat, was barely ever winded. Says he does the mountain twice a week. Just ridiculous.

    Got to the top - popped open my Coca Cola can I bought as my reward (well that Balthazar brought) and ate my awesome chocolate brownie (food supplied by hostel). Perfect reward for 4 hours of almost torture. Trick is - we aren't at the rim yet - just at basecamp. There's another hour and a half to go, but I won't have to worry about that until tomorrow.

    As the sun set, the cold set. Slap on extra layers, zip up my gorgeous baby blue puffy jacket I borrowed, and sit close to the fire while the crazy energy bunny decided she didn't have enough and did the Fuego hike - an added 3 hour hike up the active volcano connected to ours for a closer look at the lava. Jokes on her - the clouds set in for the exact same time she was on this extra hike - she only got to see the lava once back at basecamp. I felt so bad for her, yet so happy with my decision not to go! Jack here: I loved all of it! Super proud of Freddie and myself for kicking ass. Even the Fuego hike was worth it!

    Wake up at 3.45am they say. Walk up for sunrise they say. After a sleepless night, mostly kept awake by the cold and the rumbling of the volcano next door, 3.45am was no fun. But up we went to the summit - the worst 1.5 hour yet, steep uphill on volcanic rock on which every second step you slip back one. It was so insulting to work that hard to being your foot up for the next step only to loose progress because of the rocks. Shitty hour and a half. I started getting into my usual negative head space, so to try and get out of it I started using my one hiking stick with both hands singing over and over again in my mind "row, row, row your boat". It actually helped. Fyi - only 3 out of 6 of us did the summit hike, so extra points for me!

    I'll let the photos speak for themselves as far as the view for camp and the summit. Final conclusion: Regret 2/10. Glad I did it.
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  • Day9


    April 17, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ 🌙 17 °C

    Antigua, the town everyone loves for it's European style beauty. Meh.
    It was a very pretty town, but not for its colonial features, but rather for its multi-colored walls, gorgeous surrounding mountains and volcanoes, and beautifully maintained central park. Every town has it's central plaza - usually with a government building on one end, and a church on another. This one was no different, but there was always life, kids playing around, ladies selling usually relatively useless trinkets, and men sitting around chatting. It was slightly more challenging to find inexpensive food since this is such a touristic town - everything was geared towards the international patron - Chinese and Italian food of plenty but not much cheap Guatemalan food.

    Being the original capital of Guatemala, it did have some amazing older buildings, mostly churches, from the 16th century - partially or mostly destroyed by earthquakes in the 17th century. Or something along those lines. Anywho - beautiful ruins of churches, with amazing carvings and massive pillars.

    We walked up to a view point Cerro de la Cruz. I was winded and tired when we reached the top, which for me confirmed I wasn't doing a volcano hike with Jack. If I can barely breath after 20 minutes of stairs, there's no way I'm doing a 5 hour hike! How I changed my mind you asked? A cute girl at the hostel convinced me... Lol

    Antigua seems like the town you go to when you've spent a long time travelling and you need a break from it all, and you sit and enjoy a nice latte or glass of wine. We haven't been traveling very long so this wasn't needed.
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  • Day8

    Guatemala City

    April 16, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ 🌬 18 °C

    Coming back from Livingston, we took an afternoon bus from Puerto Barrios to Guatemala city, arriving after dark so we made our way directly to the hostel we had booked 2 blocks away from the bus station. I don't venture off in the dark. Jack here: Fred was also a deer, ironically their Mayan birth symbol as well. Their eyes scurrying around, ears perked to the absolute worst case scenario despite it being totally fiiiine. Back to Freddie we go.

    We spent the next day enjoying Guatemala city before making our way to La Antigua. A free walking tour was advertised, so obviously we did that! Met our lovely guide in the central plaza after walking down 6th Avenue (Paseo de la Sexta). We basically just walked around the historical part of the city, Zona 4, which was everything you'd expect from a city - pigeon square and all. Learned about the Civil War. The city had a "protesting" vibe to it with tons of posters denouncing the government for its corruption, speaking against violence against women, Jack had a blast reading all the signs and graffiti. The people watching in Parque Central - pigeon square - was at it's finest!

    We finished off our walking tour in the central market, eating a local meal we couldn't quite recognize and definitely couldn't pronounce.

    As in most big cities, the difference between the rich and the poor became blatantly obvious. Beautiful massive buildings with amazing stone carving next to people who you wonder when was their last decent meal.

    Jack again: I like cities and this one didn't disappoint! Most traveller's skip it, which is sad. It was great to be in a Guatemalan city not particularly geared towards me or tourism but just being itself. As mentioned, the protest vibes helped!
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  • Day7


    April 15, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C

    Where the Garifuna people live. Jack here: The Garifuna are afro-carribean people who came from West Africa and St. Vincent, survived shipwrecks before establishing themselves/being relocated to Roatan(Honduras) and Livingston(Guatemala). Totally different people with a different culture, language, skin color and obviously different vibe. Back to Freddie: It was interesting to walk through the town from one end to another, going completely rural into the residential area and seeing how segregated the Mayan and Garifuna people were. According to one lovely Garifuna man we met, the business and the money is owned by the Mayans and the Garifuna people are mostly on the outskirts of town. Much more of a Caribbean vibe the what we've seen in the rest of Guatemala!Read more

  • Day6

    Jungle Bliss

    April 14, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C

    Our first stay in a reserved room! We actually booked something ahead of arriving, and that's because we're going to the middle of no where. No town. No second option in case it's full. Just this one, secluded, beautiful place along Rio Tatin, a branch off the Rio Dulce. Wooden furniture, hammocks galore, clear water to swim in, and trails to walk the jungle. What more could we ask for?

    We splurged for a private room for 2 days. And by that, I mean hostel beds were 60Q each, so total 120Q whereas the room was 130Q. Tough call. The usual cold shared cold shower, but after a day in this heat and humidity, the cold shower is always welcomed!

    Water side hammocks for a nap (considering the not-so-amazing sleep from the night before) motivated us to go for a hike. I should get paid by considering how much I promote it, but it allowed us to hike to the Tiger Caves without a guide and without getting lost! Thought the caves were gated and locked (one way to assure people pay for a guide to go), the walk was full jungle, thick vegetation, river and creeks everywhere, and gorgeous. Hot as heck, humid as heck, but gorgeous. I failed at my goal to see a toucan, but I'll keep trying!

    Today was a kayak trip on the Rio. And by that, I mean we rowed very casually for an hour and a half, exploring mangroves and relatively large houses along the waterfront. We've actually been impressed by the money Guatemala seems to have... This is not to be condescending in any way, but from the moment we arrived we've been impressed by their organization - buses leave on time, luxury buses are actually nice, there's provided toilet paper everyone! People who've traveled this end of the world know that sometimes toilet paper is hard to come by, so you bring your own. I have yet to use mine! Gas stations with flushing toilets and provided toilet paper. Impressed. All this to say there's some impressive mansions on the Rio - assumedly vacation homes for some locals.

    Fill in the rest of our day with lounging on the deck, or in a hammock, reading a book or blogging to catch up on previous days (sorry for the triple upload!).

    Even diner was great family-style diner, where for a set price you share a bunch of dishes. Vegetarian options for Jack and everything!

    No need to go on for hours, look at the photos. I'm feeling relax, had myself a vacation for 2 days while traveling, and onwards we go!
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  • Day5

    One Long Bridge, One Long Night

    April 13, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C

    Our wonderful tourist shuttle bus dropped us in front of the Backpackers Inn in Rio Dulce. The dilemma - break our rule about staying in the first place we check out, or look elsewhere which will likely be more expensive? From everything we've read, these dorm beds were as cheap as it gets. We continued our stress-free streak and stayed in their 16 bed dorm (thankfully, we only had 2 roommates), and said no thank-you when we were offered sheets and pillow for an extra 15Q. If we're only paying 30Q for the bed, why would we add 50% to the price? Thinking back on it, 2,50$CAD for sheets and a pillow shouldn't have made us hesitate so long.

    Why the title you ask? Well, we thought the hostel was on the same side of the bridge as the ferry we needed to grab in morning (knowing the centre of town was on the other side), but we were wrong. We crossed the bridge 3 times. 1.1 km long, curved bridge which means uphill for half of it. One long bridge.

    Crossing the bridge for the first time was to head for the Cascadas Caliente! Hot waterfall in Finca El Paradiso. Jack finally gets a taste for her "collectivo", the beloved mini vans over packed with people. We went to the street corner our travel guide suggested, and spoke to the man standing outside a minivan. And by spoke, I mean we said "cascadas caliente?" to which he replied by pointing to the empty and unattended van across the street. One thing we've learned about this trusty transportation method - it leaves when it's full, and not before. This empty van isn't giving us hope. Little did we know, within 5 minutes a man would emerge from the corner yelling a destination we don't understand, people started piling into the van, and he walked to us and asked "Finca El Paradiso?". Sometimes, being white and clearly foreign helps, because yes, yes we are going to Finca El Paradiso. Please show us the way. Which he did. To the same van. Success!

    Absolutely amazing experience. 45 minutes in a minivan and we're dropped by the side of the road, where a farmer stands from his bench and signals us over. He then asks for 15Q per person, the entrance fee. Sure. Then said something in Spanish, of which I understood "caminare" and "quince minutes" or something along those lines. Don't worry - my Spanish is improving by the day! My interpretation - follow this path for 15 minutes to your destination. Done.
    On this path, we meet farmer number 2, who introduces himself and does this one arm side hug to both Jack and I, sweaty cheeks touching, ever so slightly awkward. But nice guy... Finally, we meet farmer number 3, who says (at least what I interpreted) that his job was to watch our stuff while we go swimming. You got it!

    Off we go in this clear, cold water. Swim up to the waterfall, sulphur smells increasing by the inch, and touch this incredibly hot - can barely get under - waterfall. The feeling of your body being in cold water yet hot water falling on your head was surreal. I haven't seen too many sites as cool as this one. Just a few local families enjoying the same beautiful nature setting. We stayed 2 hours taking it all in, and as we start leaving a tourist group arrived - 15 of them. Our timing was perfect!

    As we wait for the collectivo back to town, a lovely gentleman called Roberto was generous enough to stop and give us a ride back to town. Now some of you might say it isn't safe to hitch hike in Guatemala, to you I say - I wasn't hitch hiking, my thumb wasn't out, he's just a really nice guy! Jack just hopped in the car that stopped near us and I followed. Also, how can a guy who looked for his Barry Manilow music because it was in English, be bad? We all sang "... Copa, Copa Cabana!" together.

    We then proceeded to have the worse sleep ever - sheetless, music blaring from the restaurant and from the other side of the bridge, and massive truck engines roaring when trying to make it up the bridge over top of us. But, 30Q!
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  • Day3


    April 11, 2018 in Guatemala ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    The "can't miss" Mayan ruins, Tikal. We're not usually the types to do the big name attractions while travelling - Jack skipped Angkor Wat in Cambodia for Pete's sake! But we decided to make Tikal the exception since neither Jack or I had ever seen Mayan history. Thankfully it wasn't overcrowded at all! A quick 70Q (12$CAD) each for transportation there and back (an hour away from Flores, where most people base themselves) but no guide. Fear not, thanks to our trusty travel guide and my GPS - we could make our own guided tour, reading about the different sites from our book, confirming we're at the right one with my phone.

    Side note - shout out to the app, free maps that I download before every new country onto my phone - my GPS can follow me incredibly well throughout the country. I can even look things up like hotels or ATMs with no internet needed. I've been amazed at how much details, including trails, the app has. You literally can't get lost, which makes me incredibly happy, where as Jack finds it 'too safe' or 'no fun'.

    What to say about the site itself? It's huge. So many pyramids, so tall, so many stairs to climb up for view points - all of which are worth it (which means a lot coming for me!) Just the walk from settlement to settlement was absolutely beautiful jungle-esk trails, birds chirping all around. Google photos - there aren't too many words to describe massive rock pyramids built 1300 years ago hidden away in the jungle... My take away from Tikal though is I'm not climbing the big volcano, no way!

    As every super touristy spot overcharges for food, we were good backpackers and brought ourselves lunch! We were hoping to grab fresh tortillas but since Flores is a bubble for tourists, there are no street sellers to buy tortillas from. So we grab the toasts from our breakfast, peanut butter and bananas. Open-faced banana-peanut-butter sandwich, winner!

    Once back in Flores, the heat of the day called us to the water! A quick swim with the locals is always a good experience. I call my swimming time "the jaw dropper". I'd love to say it's because I look so good in a bathing suit, but no. I still often pass as male, so when I dip in a body of water, even with a t-shirt on since it seemed like the right thing to do (all locals were fully dressed in the water), my shirt tends to kling to my chest and down the jaws go. I tend to avoid eye contact with anyone around me at all cost, but Jack gets the full effect.

    Backpacker tip #? - eat dinner next to the place everyone tells you to go! Locals and tourists alike were telling us to go to Skybar for a drink - it's 2 floors up, great view on the water. We went to the restaurant behind it, 3 floors up, with the same great view and food half the price. We could see Skybar was full of tourist from where we were quietly sitting, alone in a nature-friendly balcony, petting the family dog.

    To end the day - I'll be real with you all about a moment of disagreement that comes up every once in a while between Jack and I. She likes the challenge of finding the cheapest way of doing anything. It's both a question of budget, and being closer to the locals. I agree, for the most part. But when everyone on the island can sell you a bus ticket to Rio Dulce, our next destination, for 100Q (17$CAD) I'm not going to look for hours for another solution. Jack on the other hand will spend 20 minutes on her phone during drinks on a lovely patio, then another 15 minutes once back in our room to figure out where the local buses leave from (not on Flores, somewhere in Santa Elena which is right then and there at least a 30 minute walk) and how we get there. I on the other hand, can appreciate that we are both successful adults, and we can afford the few extra dollars of convenience. In case you're wondering, I won. So we booked our Shuttle Bus to Rio Dulce.
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