The Beginning of the Road

Loaded and ready

Day 5 flat and happy

I'm riding my bike around Spain and Portugal. Maybe a bit of Morocco.  It is day eight of the ninety-seven day trip.  An arbitrary length of time I decided upon mainly because of my dwindling savings.  I traveled around the USA for five months by car, five months by bus through Mexico and Central America and it was in Panama City in June of 2011 when I met a guy that had been touring by bicycle for over a year.  The idea was born.  Over the last three years I've had the extreme fortune of coming up with dreams and plans and then, rather then just leave them at that, do what is necessary to make them a reality.  I'm doing this because after a year living in Barcelona I've fallen in love with the country.  The pace of life, the language, the paseos and ambience every little village seems to radiate.  I'm doing this because I want to be fit again.  I'm doing this because I yern for the highs and lows a trip like this inevitably has.  Already on this trip I cursed and screamed after turning a bend on a 9% grade and seeing more endless uphill.  But you can't go uphill forever and while sitting at a campground bar in Murillo de Gallego sipping a cold beer starring at cliffs drenched in twilight and listening to classic Spanish music I couldn't have licked the smile off my face.  Shear joy.  Then again while cruising through a canyon rode along a rambling river in the province of Huesca the happiness inside me unleashed itself in a scream of joy.  Also the fist pump and ear to ear smile I gave myself while walking back to my campsite in Lumbier after seeing a shooting star streak through the Big Dipper.  Yes, this  is why I'm doing this.    So as an old man I won't look back with 'should of's'.  So I have a memory of a shooting star in Lumbier, Spain.

Murillo de Gallego

Night 4 - First campground in Murillo de Gallego

I bought the bike and all the necessary gear in the U.S. and having brought it on the plane from New York I put it back together in the Barcelona airport.  Ditching my worn out suitcase I rode out of the airport with my bikes panniers filled.  My first time ever being on a loaded bike.  In fact, before this trip, I hadn't ridden more than twenty eight miles in a single day.

I rested up in Barcelona for five days, visiting friends and mostly just being nervous about starting.  The journey began just outside of Barcelona to avoid some of the headache of navigating out of the city.  In the city of Terrassa I took my first pedal of this trip, with my first real goal being Pamplona about 300 miles toward the northwest.  After just two hours I peddaled into a city in search of water and nearly passed out on a bench from exhaustion.  The "I can't do this's" crept into my head often those first two days.  I struggled with the energy to even set up my tent the first three nights and practiced the conversation I was going to have with my mom about how I'm coming home early.  I was lonely.  I had been setting up camp for free hidden off the road and hadn't seen a single other tourer.  I entertained thoughts of going home often those first three days.  What the hell was I thinking?  Ride around Iberia?  Fool!  Get back to Connecticut and get a job for Christ's sake!

My passbook to be stamped in churches as proof of doing the Camino de Santiago

But on night four instinct led me to the town of Murillo de Gallego in the province of Huesca, to Guadalupe the campground receptionist, to my first beer, to the Spanish music being blasted and my confidence and reassurance swung back hard.  Yes, I am doing this.  I started to see tourers; most doing the Camino de Santiago.  I was given two gifts: A quality map to replace my massive poorly routed map of all of Spain and Portugal and another of a scallop shell, the symbol of the Camino.  My journey had started.  For the sake of meeting more people and dispelling loneliness I'm deciding to ride the Camino until its end about 400 miles from here.  It feels like the right thing to do and gives me a direction.  I will take it slow and probably arrive in Santiago about two weeks from now.  I'll speak more of the Camino on a later post.  For now, I'm hanging in Pamplona for a couple days of rest.  Then I'll continue my journey west...now as a Pilgrim!

Weekending It

Scott, Me, and Jeff - Enjoying a street beverage in the Paris Night

Paris, Switzerland, Barcelona.  Throughout the last three weeks I joined portions of the Euro trip of my two Connecticut friends, Jeff and Scott.  I met Jeff on the floor of my freshman dormitory at the University of Connecticut.  We've stayed close ever since.  Scott is his younger brother whom I traveled with for five weeks driving around the south west portion of the United States in Road Trip USA.  They bought Euro Rails and were making the most of their vacations.  They were spending their first weekend in Paris.  I was spending their first weekend in Paris too.

Paris

It is hard to go any place in a weekend and see everything there is to see - let alone Paris.  Paris is big.  The weather for our April 20th weekend was sunny and beautiful for about five minutes and then pounding rain on top of us, then it would repeat the process.  Sometimes less of a pound and more of sideways sprinkle.  I really wanted to see Jeff and Scott so I wasn't terribly concerned with what we were doing or terribly concerned with trying to see everything there is to see in Paris.  I still don't really know everything you're supposed to see when you go to Paris - or what Rue you should walk down and at what time.  So why are you reading this?  Good question.  Why am I writing it?  Because I don't feel like grading papers right now.

The Louvre

It's a pretty city, but when a friend of mine said "Did it make your heart leap when you saw it??!!", I wasn't sure how to respond.  Saw what?  All of Paris at one time?  I don't know how to do that.  It made me smile most of the time.  It is Paris.  The Eiffel tower was cool.  It looked more metallic than I though it should have.  The Notre Dame was pretty impressive, we saw it on a Sunday when a mass was going on, but I don't know...it just feels a little strange walking through a church with a mob of tourists looking around at everything, while the people in the center are sitting and using it for what is was designed to be used for.  I like traveling, but dammit I hate tourists.  Let's face it, for the last two years, for most of the time, I've been a tourist.  Sometimes I join those retarded idiots.  There is no way around it.  If you want to travel you're going to be a stupid tourist sometimes.  I'd like to go to Paris again and walk around with a bottle of wine until two in the morning.  Most tourists don't do that.

An Italian in a Ford Fusion shouted at me to come over to his car while I was walking down the road on the way to meet Scott and Jeff at their hotel.  He offered me two leather jackets for a tank of gas.  He works for a fashion company and had them as display pieces.  I always fall for this crap.  He lost 3000 euro the night before on a Brazilian and the casino.  He couldn't call his wife to explain.  He needed gas to get back to Italy.  I ALWAYS fall for this crap.  I buy something and I think I'm getting a steal and then the sleeve falls off when I put it on.  I paid for four massive speakers once when I was sixteen thinking I was going to make a killing, and hid my head between my tail when I researched them on the internet and realized I'd been taken for $600 dollars.  I ended up giving the guy 50 euro.  I told you I always fall for this crap.  I got two genuine leather jackets that are slightly too big for me.  They are beautiful Italian jackets.  Who knows.  Maybe I didn't screw up too bad this time. I just need my chest and arms to grow a few inches and then I'll be fine.

Zermatt Hiking

The next weekend I met Jeff and Scott in Zermatt, Switzerland on the southern part of the country boarding Italy.  Zermatt is the town right next to the iconic Matterhorn.  For me, this is heart leaping territory, but again, the weather wasn't completely cooperative.  It rained pretty much every day, but for about a two hour window on our third morning we could see the jagged pointed mountain top that looks a lot like the mountain the Grinch would live on.  If you're a cheap bastard, just brace yourself when you go to Switzerland.  I paid 80 euro for my round trip plane ticket to Geneva and then 80 euro again (two times) (95 Swiss Francs) for the one way train ticket to Zermatt.  The money is all colorful like monopoly money so I advice you to just pretend it is.  It might make you feel better when you pay 4 Franc for a coffee or 17 Franc for a burger or 35 Franc for a six bed dormitory which charges 8 Franc more for their continental breakfast.  One Franc is roughly $1.10.  The night life wasn't too crazy (probably because in order to have a few drinks you would have to drain your bank account), but we did manage to find a case a beer for a reasonable price so we drank those in the hostel.  The three Americans listened to music on a table littered with empty beer bottles.  The remaining space in the common room of the hostel was filled with Japanese on their individual lap top computers.  Six Japanese with their cords all leading to a multi-plug power outlet in the center of the room.  Maybe they were controlling the International Space Station.  As America gets drunk the Japanese are hard at work.  That's about right.

Zermatt outskirts and Matthorn Peak

In Zermatt we hiked everyday.  We read a lot.  We had good conversations and enjoyed the rain and the company.  The Alps are beautiful.

Jeff ended his trip in Barcelona.  Scott is continuing on through Spain and then on to Germany for another month.  We spent five nights together in Barcelona and now I'm alone and back to being Lonely Man.  I love this living abroad thing, but man it's hard to make good guy friends.  I don't really want new friends so much, just my old ones to be out here.  It is the most difficult thing about being out here and I consider myself as much of a loner as you can get without being diagnosed with some sort of disorder.  I have a pile of papers I need to grade and students that want them graded right now.  I have five more weeks of planning what I'm going to teach the next day.  I don't know.  Life is a funny thing.  One day you know exactly what your going to do for the rest of your life and then the next day you don't know what your going to do next month.  Instead of getting older and knowing more, I'm getting older and realizing I don't know anything.  Oh well.  For me.  Today is Monday.  Happy Monday.

Guest Post - Italy for Two - If Lonely Man wasn't so Lonely

Italy - The Perfect Spring Vacation for Couples 

By Alexandra Jacobs

Italy is a great place to take a spring vacation. With fewer crowds than other times of the year, especially on the beaches, spring in Italy is beautiful. For a couple on vacation, there are a number of great spots that are ideal for a romantic getaway. A week in Italy is the perfect amount of time to take in a little of the culture the country is known for, as well as explore several of Italy's best beaches. 

Most people start their vacation in Rome, as this is where the vast majority of international flights arrive. Rome is a fantastic, cosmopolitan city, but even in the spring it can be crowded and expensive. Anyone looking for a less crowded alternative in the spring should check out some rentals that resemble Hamptons Houses.  In Italy the crowds don't start rolling in until after Memorial Day. Fortunately, there are plenty of ways to beat the crowds and save some money when in Rome during the spring. There are two different passes that can be purchased during a trip to Rome to save money. The Archaeologia Card offers access to archeological sites such as Palatine Hill and the Colosseum, as well as entrance to the four Roman museums, all for one low price. Another discount card, the Roma Pass, offers three days of public transportation, two free passes to any of the participating sites, and big discounts on the remaining sites, all for one discounted rate.

Photo by commons.wikimedia.org Amalfi Coast 

Heading south from Rome, couples can relax on the stunning shores of the Amalfi Coast. In the spring, the beaches here won't be nearly as crowded as they will be in the peak summer months of July and August, so it's a great time for couples who are looking to get away from it all while still being close to a variety of restaurants, cafes, and shopping. There are many bed and breakfasts and small pensiones to be found on the Amalfi Coast, many of which offer excellent deals and cheaper prices than most hotels. The towns of Amalfi, Positano, Sorrento, Salerno, and the island of Capri are all great places for couples to start their vacation on the Amalfi Coast. 

For couples who want to head north of Rome, the Italian Riviera is the ideal place for a romantic and unforgettable Italian experience. The beaches here are also beautiful, though colder than those found on the Amalfi Coast during the spring. Portofino, Portovenere, and the towns of Cinque Terre all have great beaches that are perfect for couples. All of these small towns have excellent food and quaint historic city centers that are great for shopping, dining, and exploring. These beaches are easily accessible from other points of interest in Italy as well, such as nearby Genoa and, slightly further afield, Florence and Milan. 

8 Days in Italy. Forever a memory.

I was running through the Barcelona airport holding my pants up with no belt on when I realized why I've been arriving to the airport 2-3 hours before a departure all my life and wondering why I hadn't done that this time.  Note to Ryanair users:  At some airports, Barcelona one of them, they validate your ticket and check your passport at a different window then where you check bags.  After waiting in line for thirty minutes we found out we should have been waiting in another line first.  It's all right though.  It was my first time with Ryanair and I didn't yet know I was running through the airport with my belt in my hand just so I could wait in another line.  At least I had time to put my belt back on.

I was taking my first plane ride with another person in almost three years.  I was due to make sure I could travel with someone else.  Cousin Doug is the first person to come visit me in Barcelona since I moved out here last August.  Doing the traveling I've been doing the last two years I can say the one true thing I miss are my friends and family.  To be able to combine travel with friends is as perfect as it gets and Doug and I were going to have that with our eight day tour through Rome, Florence, Verona, and Venice.  I had been to Italy once before.  Just Rome, but that was four years ago, on the very first trip abroad I had ever done (other than the two difficult to remember New Years in Montreal).  I sucked at traveling then.  I was pleased with my CouchSurfing reference left by Leo in Florence: "Matt, an expert traveler who organizes things well in advance, but able to find a solution to even last minute changes, on logistics, and in the kitchen."  Not sure about the "organizes well in advance" - or what the "in the kitchen" comment is referring to, but I'll take it.  This was the first trip I had taken though were nearly everything was basically planned out.  All hostels were booked and I had purchased a couple train tickets.  It is significantly cheaper, if you are going to train around Italy, to buy your tickets in advance.  The only annoying thing is they might not even bother to check you went through the trouble to even buy a ticket.  In two of our four train rides no one even came around to see if we were paying customers.  Spin the roulette wheel if you'd like and maybe you'd land on a free train ride.  I am brazen, but no matter how understaffed or uncaring Trenitalia is, I will not be attempting that gamble.  Better to sit in comfort knowing you paid for your seat.

Long Map Hallway.  Vatican Museum, Vatican City.

Standing on a corner block in a strange city with a fresh map in your hand straining your eyes and neck to read the street signs is my favorite thing about traveling.  Ironically, putting the map in your pocket and getting lost is my second favorite thing.  Some will wonder why I am hesitant to get a smart phone. That is the main reason.  My two favorite things about traveling would be lost.  Yes, of course I could leave the phone in my bag, blah, blah, but I know that convenience, that simplicity of having easy 'walk me to it' directions and maps in the palm of my hand that pinpoints my exact location would be to much to leave in a bag.  I don't know many travelers out there still going without a Smart Phone or IPad, but I aim to be one of the last.  People used to be just fine.  No where in my definition of the word 'convenient' is the word 'better'.

Rome is amazing.  The Vatican, Sistine Chapel, Colosseum, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Capuchin Crypt, the Roman Forum, and who the hell else knows what is around you within walking distance to the fit and fearless.  Early April weather is the absolute best for walking in Italian cities.  So so so good.  Staring up at the Sistine Chapel was my highlight.  All I wanted to do was lay down on a silent magic carpet and float within a few feet of the frescos, slowly moving along to examine them all.  It is stunning.  The place was mobbed and I had to stare with my mouth slightly ajar with one hundred other people, shoulder to shoulder.  It didn't matter.  The whole Vatican Museum is amazing, just don't pay thirty extra euro for the tour that says it is going to skip the two hour line and then not.  If I could do it again and I really wanted to know the history behind what I was seeing I would have purchased a book ahead of time and read it as I walked though the museum at my own pace.  Instead we moved along at the whim of our guide and then I didn't even remember anything I was told throughout the four  hour tour.  Close behind the Sistine Chapel in terms of travel greatness was the first night we arrived in Rome.  We walked for five hours though the city until two in the morning drinking a cup of wine every time we arrived at a fountain.  Doug and I quickly made friends over the three euro plate of pasta and wine we got with Freedom Traveler, the hostel we stayed at in Rome a few blocks from Termini, the main train station.  A good option if your traveling Rome on a budget.  Another night the hostel provided free pizza.  Our pasta buddies were a couple of girls obsessed with the history of Rome and more than willing to share their knowledge.  I'll go on and say walking Rome with a couple of new friends and a couple bottles of wine late into the evening is the only way to see Rome.  Starring up at the columns of the Pantheon, carved and constructed over 2,000 years ago with nobody around except people I want to be around.  Life is good my friends.

Capuchin crypt was fascinating.  The bones of 4,000 people are stacked neatly in piles of femurs and skulls.  The vertebrae and hip bones were displayed on the walls in swirling designs.  Some were kept in full skeletons still with their robes on and some bits of dried, harden, stretched skin still visible on the face.  The last room had a plaque saying "What you are now, we used to be.  What we are now, you will be."  I guess there is nothing truer than that statement.

View of Florence where we listened to live guitar and enjoy beverages after a long day.

I tried to utilize CouchSurfing on this trip, but had a hard time finding hosts.  The only one I got was Leonardo for two nights in Florence (Firenze).  His shirt is half unbuttoned, and buttoned wrong at that. His hair is crazy and unkept.  He has a thick Italian accent and says "Why??" like Borat when you do something he doesn't agree with.  He asks questions like "What time will you get up in the morning?" and "What time will you be back in the evening?" and then answers with "Too late!" and "Too early!".  Doug and I were expected to cook dinner the second night and we nailed it with lentil wraps and a fresh salad with mozzarella.  All food costs were split and Leo picked us up at the train station, brought us into and town and back to the train station when we left.  A bit eccentric, but a good man.  I'm looking to get back into CouchSurfing.  It certainly will always make for an interesting experience!

You have to see David by Michelangelo in person.  The veins, the ribs, everything so perfectly sculpted and the thing standing in front of you over fourteen feet high.  Please go to Florence in your life.  We visited the high dome of Duomo, this massive church in the city center of Florence.  Massive means massive.  It's massive.  In the afternoon we visited a garden in the south end of town across the river.  I heard some music around the corner and instinctively gravitated toward it.  Two guys, live music, two coronas and lemon, high view over looking Florence, Italy, sitting on stone steps.  Highlight of the trip - right there.

Thata Boy - Juliet Statue - Verona, Italy

Next stop: Verona.  I didn't know much about this place, but it has a huge amphitheater in the city center where every summer they still have operas and plays.  My list of things to see with a significant lady friend gets longer.  To see a live performance in an outdoor stone theater 2,000 years old in Verona, Italy will get done in my life.  Verona is also the home of Romeo and Juliet.  The people have honored her by sticking gum every where along the entrance arch to her courtyard and balcony and also by smiling and grabbing the bronze boob of her statue.  Poor Juliet.  I even saw a school student stick his tongue out and lick the shiny polished boob.   Very original Johnny.  Some ass posed for a picture touching her boob and now we have a tradition.  The same guy probably stuck the first piece of gum to the wall too. The gate with a thousand locks was probably started by him as well!  Why do we always follow idiots?

Last stop Venice!  It was when I went to take my first picture of Venice that I realized my camera was gone.  Doug quickly told me to run back to the train and I left him with my bag thrown open and my stuff all over the steps of the train station.  I ran on a train.  Wrong train!  Which one was it!?  I run on another that looks right and looked helplessly around where I sat.  Defeated.  Then, the train starts to move.  I run to the door and press the button to open it.  Nothing.  I press again and again and again and we keep rolling, gaining momentum, heading away from Venice and Doug waiting by all my stuff outside the station.  I pull the emergency switch to stop the train.  Nobody even bothers to see why an alarm is going off.  We keep rolling.  I have 15 euro in my pocket, no cards, phone, or passport.  Hopefully this is not a direct to Rome, I thought.  Fortunately it wasn't.  The next stop was ten minutes down the way and I made it back to Doug 40 minutes after I had run after the train.  No camera.  It wasn't in the lost and found and it wasn't in my last hostel in Verona.  Let it go, let it go, let it go.  My bag was opened when I pulled it down from the shelf.  I didn't think much of it, but was confused why it was open and only put two and two together when I realized the camera was missing.  Lock your bag.  I had the lock sitting on the zipper, but just got comfortable and lazy.  Just lock your bag and you'll be fine.  I learned the mantra "Let it go, let it go, let it go" from Papa Aka who I picked up hitchhiking in Oregon.  I said it a few times and Let it Go.  The camera was gone.  But it is just a camera.  I am fine, my memories are fine, this experience is mine.   Nobody can steal that shit.

Richard Gere in American Gigolo.  AKA - Me with hair.

The fourth stop on our trip did not disappoint.  Far from it.  Instead of waking up early we stayed up late.  Friday night we had two Polish twins in our room.  Ex-national basketball players who also star in Polish commercials.  They laughed at things Doug said like it was the funniest thing they ever heard.  They thought I looked like Richard Gere in American Gigalo.  "I am no gay, but you a handsome man."  Then he would die laughing, his brother would follow.  The American girl, Lauren, we became friendly with, had to strongly disagree and likened me more to Lex Luther.  Thanks Lauren.  Similar to the Italian trains the water buses offered to get around Venice don't ever bother to check if you paid.  This time we took advantage.  Fuck it.  I'm an honest man, but if you are going to charge 6.50 euro for a ride then not ever check I'm going to just keep using the same ticket.  Our second night the hostel had a sign saying there was going to be an epic night of Beer Pong, Flip Cup, and Mister Shooter (whatever the heck that is) and music by DJ Hawk.  It started with a bunch of milk drinking losers, but by the end of the night Doug and I, on opposite teams, had a beer pong game going on with our table surrounded with "oooooohhhhs" and "aweees" and cheers for misses and makes.  It was hilarious.  That night I also visited San Marco Square in the dead of the night.  In a steady rain as the square flooded in a full moon high tide.  During the day people flow through the skinny streets of Venice like rushing water through the cracks of a walkway, but at night it is completely different.  I was a rain drop amongst the rain.  My last night in Venice and last night of this amazing trip was one to remember.

This eight day trip is one of the best I've been on.  Every city we visited had something unique and amazing to offer.  They were all incredible.  I made some mistakes, but we learned.  We're better now and I'm more experienced with every trip.  I see the benefits of planning a trip in advance and will probably continue to mix that in with unplanned ones because there is that nice thrill of going to a place and not knowing at all what the road will bring.  The Sistine Chapel, David, Venice - these are things I knew and had mental pictures of, but can now officially know the picture.  What it feels like to stand in front and around history like that.  It is a magical feeling.  Doug was a great traveling companion.  He taught me about the wine and kept us moving to make sure we made the most of our time.  Also he made me know that it is OK to go into stores and look around and maybe even buy something for yourself!  It is nice to share an experience with somebody.  Glad we made this happen Doug.  Lifetime memory.

Paris in two weekends.  See you all then!

"This is why I Travel" - Romania - February 11th to 19th, 2012

My idea to quit my job as a teacher in Connecticut and make radical changes in my life came after a week long solo trip to Mexico.  I just completed a week long trip in Romania...

...cue sly mysterious smile...

When you travel solo it gives you plenty of time to think.  I think about myself sometimes - what I want to improve in my life...plenty...but also about qualities I have that I wish everyone would have.  I believe I truly love living.  When I travel, hike or am riding my bike this rush of energy sometimes rises from my gut through my chest into my mouth and I smile and shake my head.  I shake my head because I can't believe what I'm doing.  This morning I was in Romania in midwinter.  What was I doing in Romania?  Who fucking knows, but I really couldn't have been happier to be there!

Another quality I feel fortunate to have developed is the ability to smile when stuff goes wrong.  Stuff will ALWAYS go wrong, so smile, because soon enough it will go right.  Plus, when stuff goes wrong you learn something; you're smarter because of it.

The Snowy Streets of Bucharest

The major obstacle and improvement I hope to make in my life is to take those two qualities and learn to share them with a partner.  Unfortunately, I don't think I try very hard to find this partner.  I generally don't worry about this, but then again, sometimes I do.  The boulder that blocks my way to asking out a girl that could be interesting is a difficult rock for me to move.  I sometimes wish it was as easy for me to smile and talk to women as it is for me to smile and care less when I realize I've been waiting at the wrong bus stop for 45 minutes, then find the right bus stop only to get on the wrong bus and realize it 30 minutes into the ride.  I did say I have plenty to improve in my life right?  For now it is all good.  I love solo travel and the simplicity of the way I travel and question how simple it would be with a woman.

I arrived in Bucharest, Romania, the capital of about 1.7 million (about the size of Philadelphia) and instantly made an error.  It wasn't the fact that I walked up and down the stairs of the arrivals section four times before asking for directions to where I can catch a bus.  That is my usual dance when arriving to a new place.  The error was I excepted the help of a complete stranger and he didn't know the secret code word.  He told me I was standing at the wrong place for the bus.  "Do you work here?" I ask cautiously "Yes." he lies.  I just arrived the furthest east I've ever been in my life and apparently was feeling more trusting and child like than a solo travel should ever feel.  I followed him through the parking lot on the side of the airport and up to another part of the airport.  He waited with me inside the sliding doors asking me where I was staying and if I wanted him to take me out on the town that night.  I didn't really answer, but he asks again.  I tell him I have a hostel booked.  At this point I'm pretty sure he is trying to get commission off me at a hotel of his choice.  As I see the bus coming up to the stop I begin to feel better about leaving this kind gentleman behind, but alas, as the bus pulls up he climbs on with me.  Apparently he assumed I needed help scanning the bus pass I had bought.  At this point the "sh-" word began repeating in my head.  Good start to your trip Matt.  This guy had taken it upon himself to be my personal escort to my hostel.  I didn't ask for one and when I told him I didn't need help he just kindly replied, "No, I help you."  Well, OK then...

After the 40 minute bus ride he got off at my stop.  Don't get me wrong.  The guy was actually a nice guy, but there was no way he was doing this solely out of the kindness of his heart.  I was expected to pay the man and because I'm cheap, I had no intention of doing so.  We walked by where I thought the hostel was, but he was sure it wasn't...(it was).  Apparently he wasn't used to dealing with cheap asses that stay in hostels on side streets with no proper signs.  He asked everyone that's walking around in the 0 degree weather if they know where the hostel is.  I helpfully hold out my journal for them to read the hostels name.  Nobody knows anything.  Finally we go back to where it really was and we walk through the gated entrance.  I'm silently hoping he doesn't follow as we go through the door and walk up the stairs to the reception.  He does.  At this point in my travels I know hostels.  I know how they work. They don't want strangers coming in their establishments.  I brace myself for this as I enter the final door and greet the receptionist.  I tell him I have a reservation.  "Who is that behind you?"  "I don't know, he followed me to the hostel."  Some yelling happened in Romanian.  I felt like a jerk.  First off, allowing this guy to come into the hostel in the first place and second off for having this guy yelled at when he was really helping me find the hostel.  He almost refused the 10 Lei I offered him for the bus back to the airport ($3.50).  He left with his head down and I felt like an ass.

On this trip I didn't have a Lonely Planet.  I didn't do any research.  I wanted to go to Romania, so I bought a ticket.  I booked the hostel at 23:00 the night before I left.  I had an amazing trip.  I stayed in Bucharest the first two nights.  It snowed everyday and was between 5 and 25 degrees Fahrenheit the whole time.  I loved it.  I packed one small carry on.  Most of the clothes I brought I was wearing.  The Lonely Planet doesn't recommend staying in Bucharest.  I'm glad I didn't have the Lonely Planet.  The first night I went out and heard some amazing live music in a packed bar.  I stayed for four hours and didn't talk to anyone.  Sometimes, that is how I roll.  These are things I need to work on, but I left at 1 in the morning happier than ever.

Bran Castle (Dracula's Castle)

I love staying in hostels.  It is easy to meet people there.  The Midland Hostel in Bucharest is cozy and inviting.  In the morning you get a all the eggs, bread, and bologna, you can eat.  Free coffee and tea all day.  10 dollars a night.  I had some great conversations there.  One with a Polish kid who assured me the general opinion in Poland is for the U.S. to have military bases there to protect them from Russia.  We had a few beers and talked for hours in front of the Europe map on the fridge.  Another traveler, an Aussie, is spending a year traveling around eastern Europe.  All of a sudden I wish I wasn't working anymore.  But I need too.  I need the money, so I don't need to work.

Brasov

From Buchurest I took a three hour train ride to Brasov.  A medieval Transylvanian city of 225,000 nestled among the massive mountains of the Carpathian Range.  It continued to snow.  I fell in love with the city and the Romanian receptionist at my hostel. I stayed at Kismet Dao Hostel for about $12 dollars a night, the 4th night being free.  I stayed five.  Every morning there was an assortment of cereals, and of course, free coffee and tea all day.  One of the main reasons people come to Brasov is for the castles and palaces located near by.  Some of Europe's most famous castles are in Romania and two are only about 25 miles from Brasov.  One of the most famous, although less impressive to me, is Bran Castle, also known as Dracula's castle.  The castle was built in the 1300's and is thought to have inspired Bram Stoker's famous novel, Dracula.  The actual character of Dracula is based off Romanian's famous villain, Vlad the Impaler.  In the 1400's he impaled (speared vertically though the torso) somewhere around 40,000 people.  Vlad's father was known as Vlad Dracul.  Hense, Dracula.  Vlad the Impaler never lived in this castle. It being called "Dracula's" castle is somewhat of a convenient ploy to promote tourism.  It seems to work.

Peles Castle

A bit more impressive is Peles Castle.  A website listing the most famous castles in Europe has Peles as number 2 and Bran as number 8 (http://www.offtoeurope.com/europes-top-25-castles/).  Peles was the home of the Romanian royal family in the early 1900's.  It seems to house all the wealth the family could get there hands on in all of Eastern Europe.  Ironic to have so much riches housed in one place when the country around the castle was poor and starving though out parts of the 20th century.  Especially during certain times in Romania's communist era from the 1960's to 1989.  I knew nothing about this stuff.  Another reason I love to travel.  In 1989 Nicolae Ceusescu who had been the communist leader for 30 years was executed by a people's revolution along with his wife by a firing squad.  I was five years old then.  I learned nothing of this in my 27 years of existence.  I should know it.  This is why I travel.  The hostel owner in Brasov talked of her childhood.  She knows it is better for the country today but wonders if it is better for the individuals.  She worries about her child growing up in this world.  She remembers clearly the rations she would be given and the poor conditions, often with out electricity in the winter.  The bonds she formed with the friends she grew up with are unbreakable.

While in Brasov I went to a ski resort close by known as Piona Brasov.  It was about $1 for the 30 minute bus ride to the mountain, $10 dollars for rentals, and $25 for four hours on the mountain.  I was afraid of the cold, but I dressed properly and was comfortable.  It was around 20 degrees Fahrenheit with only a slight wind.

On this trip I drank more than I usually do, ate more meat than I have in six months, and inhaled more cigarette smoke without actually smoking a cigarette than I care to think about.  I had a great time.  Bucharest and Brasov are modern in many ways, but I felt as if I was going back in time in many other ways.  You can smoke in restaurants, bars, and on the trains.  After my first night out in Bucharest I had to accept the fact that my one set of clothes for my week long trip would reek of cigarettes the whole time.  Beers average around $1.50 for a 500 mL bottle.  A nice three course meal is around $8 dollars, but you can get much cheaper.  The best part was the coffee machines all around the city for 1 Lei (.35 cents).  I love coffee.  Another reason to love Romania.

Poiana Brasov Skiing

An eight day trip to Romania in February of 2012 is now something I can carry with me for my whole life.  It changed me in a better way, as does most all travel I've managed to do.  It sparked ideas and most importantly it confirmed what I knew already, that I want to keep traveling.  There is still so much more I don't know I don't know out there to find out.

Things to Remember for next time:
1.  Call credit card and debit card before hand - make sure they except your card in their country.
2.  Fully charge Kindle!  It will last forever - but needs to be charged.
3.  Bring shorts for the hostel - jeans 24/7 is not so bad.  When they are wet from hiking in the snow.  They are.

"Have what you need and need what you have!"

Bringing it Back

21 months ago I opted out. The norm. Life as the average person knows it. I always questioned what was important. I still do. It's become my quest. Knowledge is part of it, but it's more than that. The quest is the search for what more means. Unfortunately, like you already know, one needs money. I am one, therefore I need money. Before I became abnormal, I was normal. I went to college. I have degrees. I am a native English speaker. I'm lucky to have been normal before turning abnormal, because I can always earn money without too much difficulty. I have my

first full-time job in 21 months. A six-month contract teaching science at a private English speaking school in Barcelona. I need money, so I work. Teaching is more than money though. I realize the responsibility, the role I play in the life of a child. I cherish that. I love that. I take that as seriously as I take my quest. But, I can't ignore the fact that it's a job to earn money, so I don't have to work; So I can travel, so I can figure out what I'm trying to figure out and find what I'm trying to find. This new job gives me the money and time to travel and work. A comfortable situation which I may find myself settling with on a full time basis in the future.

With my first solo trip to the Yucatan of Mexico in April of 2009 I've traveled to 14 countries and 44 U.S. states. Traveling has become who I am. I don't buy many things. I buy experiences and memories.

This blog is starting anew. These words are written in a bar. A bar with no sign. A bar with a spray painted metal door. A bar in an alley. A bar that is PACKED with people speaking a language I know two words of - beer (bere) and thank you (multumesc). A bar in Bucharest. My travel blog starts with Romania.

By the Numbers and Final Thoughts

El Valle, Panama "All You Need is Love"

Total Trip Time - Approximately 154 days and 22 hours

Amount of Time in Each Country

• Mexico - 40 days


• Belize - 9 days


• Guatemala - 39 days


• El Salvador - 8 days


• Honduras - 17 days


• Nicaragua - 27 days


• Costa Rica - 9 days


• Panama - 14 days

Rankings (Favorite to least favorite: Note - This is similar to choosing your favorite ice cream)

1. Mexico


2. Guatemala


3. Panama


4. Nicaragua


5. El Salvador


6. Belize


7. Costa Rica


8. Honduras

Number of different Cities/Towns I stayed in

Cities/Towns - 43

Number of Times I Ralphed

1 - A Burger King Whopper on a boat en route to Utilla, Honduras

Number of Times I Was Robbed in the Streets, Shot At, or Killed

0

Number of Books I read (including Road Trip USA)
28 (16 in last 5 months)

Best and Worsts

Cheapest Country - Nicaragua
Most Expensive Country - Costa Rica
Best Transportation - Mexico (multiple times better than Central America)
Best Large City - Panama City
Worst Place I Stayed - Corozal Town, Belize

Most Memorable Experiences

1. Sun Rise from the top of Volcan Tajumulco in Guatemala, the highest point in Central America at 13,900 feet.


2. First time breathing under water and getting my Open Water Certificate in Utilla Honduras.


3. Going to a bull fight in my first week out of the country and loving a city I thought I should be afraid of (Mexico City).


4. Living with a family in San Pedro, Guatemala in Lago Atitlan and realizing it is possible for me to learn another language.


5. The chicken buses - the ridiculousness of them.

         And most of all...the local people I met, their kindness, the hostels and other tourists I met, the cultures and uniqueness of all the different cities I spent time in.

        This trip changed me, but only for the better. This world is filled with good people and for knowing that I am grateful. I am fortunate to live in the country I do, but its apparent from this trip there are far more happy poor people down here then happy people with money up there. Money is nothing in the end. Of course, its necessary, I need it to do what I'm doing, but I hope I never let it control me and make me a lesser person. Money should be a means of improvement. Means to improve myself and those around me. There is far less stress and far more smiles down here and I don't plan on losing that upon returning home.

        The USA is a great place and fuck all the dumb ass Americans on this trip who belittled our country to befriend dumbasses who thought otherwise. However, I do hope to see more of you (Americans) on my next journey. Travel is knowledge - understanding strips away fear. People are good and you all need to see that for yourself. There is nothing to fear. Forget fear. Learn to respect. All people have something to offer. Don't fear traveling in certain countries. Fear not traveling. Fear what you believe because you've never seen it for yourself. Maybe it is really dangerous down here. Maybe I'm completely wrong and was incredibly lucky to have nothing bad happen to me. Maybe. But I don't think so. I think these are good family loving, hard working people down here, and a few desperate souls who seem to have no other answers, give the whole region a bad name.

       I want to keep checking out this world. I want to keep learning from other people. I want to keep improving myself.

"Make a radical change in your lifestyle and begin to boldly do things which you may previously never have thought of doing, or been too hesitant to attempt. So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservation, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothings is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. If you want to get more out of life, you must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life that will at first appear to you to be crazy. But once you become accustomed to such a life you will see its full of meaning and its incredible beauty."

I couldn't have said it any better myself Mr. McCandless....


         The last year has been the most incredible of my life. I traveled through 10 countries. 38 U.S. states and did it all almost entirely solo. In Central America I did it with the smallest duffle bag out of any traveler I saw on my whole trip. I traveled with two pairs of underwear, two short sleeve shirts, one long sleeve, one pair of rip away pants, and one pair of khaki pants. I bought next to nothing physical on the entire trip. That wasn't why I was here. I traveled without a cell phone, laptop, or Ipod. I read books. I made three phone calls the entire trip. All to my mom. Sorry it wasn't more, but I forgot to teach you how to use Skype and international calls are expensive. I like to travel light - have what you need and need what you have...thanks for that one Uncle Ray.

Next stop Boston, then Niantic, CT for some family and friend time. Come August, I'm off again.

Espana is calling my name.

If you've been reading these, I hope you've enjoyed. It's in end of the line for Destination Nowhere - but travels will continue....

Ode to My Can of Shaving Cream

Thank you can of shaving cream, I'm sorry you won't be coming back,

but unfortunately you're much too large for my pack.

For five months, through eight countries you lathered my prickly head and face,
Without you, I would have looked a disgrace.

I bought you in Mexico, you were made in China

In all honestly, other shaving creams are much finer.

You cost only 15 pesos, the equivalant of just over a dollar,

I've got to be honest, you made me look pretty baller.

You are so freaking large and lasted so long,
I really wish, for your sake, this trip could live on...

But alas, its time to go home, and you didn't make the cut

I off on a plane without you, back to Connecticut.

The school year is coming to close

I spent two nights inside the crater of an inactive volcano. The picture in your head is wrong. This is a volcano with a crater several miles long and wide and covered in lush green. It was amazing beautiful. Two hours west of Panama City is the small town of El Valle inside the volcano. Again other than the fact your surrounded by a rim of mountains you have no idea your in a volcano. On a smaller scale its kind of like your standing in Yellowstone National Park - also a volcano, just an active one. The rain season has started in full force in Panama, but that didn't stop me and the five people I traveled with for a couple days from exploring the mountains, get a mud facial at a the hot springs, and swim in a mountain stream. Not only that, but we cooked up some epic meal dance parties in one of the most hilarious/greatest hostels I've stayed at.

Casa del Juan is actually Juan's house. When we got there he gave us a tour. He loves his place and loves showing it off. It has a summer cottage feel. A summer cottage minus the yearly spring cleaning. When we arrived we were not even sure we were in the right place because as you walk into the car portish area there are four stationary bikes from the 80's and a weight bench seemingly way out of place. He had the most interesting art everywhere. On one of his bulletin boards he had a 8X11 of four native women with their tops off. He had chickens and roosters cock-a-doodle-doing and pooing all over the place. He was also surrounded by mango trees, had a cinnamon tree (with which we made fresh cinnamon tea by boiling the leaves and bark - the bomb), lemon grass, horses, and even two crazy cute puppies. The puppies had free range of the compound, including our room and they took those opportunities to pee and poo and chew on all our stuff. It was OK though because they were so damn cute. One black (blanco) and one tan (blacky). The mother was a cute skinny typical Central American mutt. The father was the most hilarious "hot dog" I'd ever seen. He was huge - looked like a mix between a rottweiler and a dachschund. I would have liked to see that conception. We didn't watch TV - we just danced, ate amazing home cooked food (after unknowing ordering pig intestines for lunch the first day - grossest thing I've eaten on the whole trip), and breathed in the mountain fresh air. It was fantastic.

Two of the people with us were Lacy and Layla from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. They were both covered in tattoos and piercings. Layla had a mohawk, Lacy just short pink and blond hair. They were hilarious, sexy, and extremely fun company. Don't judge the book by its cover kids. These girls rocked and I'm so glad I'm not too much of a bitch to talk to people that look like that.

I'd love to get some you some pictures of Casa del Juan and our Canadian Rocker Girls, but the hard drive here in David, Panama is locked up...so you'll just have to wait on that one. I left all my new buddies from El Valle and took two buses to get me 7 hours to David, Panama. Say it like a Latino now...Da-veed. I arrived tired and thirsty - I had to pee in my half full water bottle en route - or would have exploded, but as always - I made it safe and sound.

As I near the end of my trip I thought I'd take the opportunity to list some things I will miss about my travels, some things I won't miss about my travels, and some things I'm missing from back in the good ol' US of A.

1. I miss flushing toilet paper. Although you do always get a nice look at your poo this way.
2. I miss free delicious Niantic tap water.
3. I won't miss wearing the same two damn shirts and the two damn pairs of underpants.
4. On that note, I miss sneakers, blue jeans, and cotton t-shirts. All of which I have not worn in five months.
5. I miss watching sports. I love you Red Sox. GO BRUINS!
6. I miss my language - being spoken all the time - everywhere.
7. I'm kinda of sick of three hour buses that stop to pick you up despite having no available seats.
8. I miss the USA woods. The ease of hiking without worrying some bastard might rob you.
9. I miss Heinz ketchup. Seriously, the ketchup down here is TERRIBLE.
10. I will miss the fresh fruits and vegetables and the chicken that tastes like chicken and the eggs that taste like eggs.
11. I will miss the attitude of the people. The life style down here, the friendliness, the lack of stress. People look out for each other down here, we're too concerned with ourselves up there.
12. I miss having my own kitchen, with sharp knives, and proper cookware.
13. I will miss the Coca-Cola, with real sugar in a glass bottle. Trust me. There is a difference.
14. I miss fast internet...any internet.
15. As cute as they are I will not miss kids asking me for a peso, dollar, cordoba, limpira, or quetzal. If a gave my money to everyone. I would have had to go home in February.
16. I miss my bed. Fuck dorms with lumpy mattresses and lumpy pillows.
17. I don't really miss my cell phone, but after 5 months without it, maybe I'll respect it's convenience a little more.
18. Yes mom, I miss you too and your cats.

That's all for now folks. I have four days left. The end of the greatest experience of my life is near, but my exploration will never be over...

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."
T. S. Eliot

Silver Dollar Panqueques

              I've been moving.  From Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica to Bocas Del Toro, Panama to Panama City, Panama. Now in Panama city for three nights.  Three nights going on my fourth night.

Luna's Castle's Dining Area - One of the coolest hostels in Central America - Panama City, Panama

            After this trip I go home to the United States for a couple months. After a couple months I'm going to Spain and taking a month long course in teaching English in Barcelona. After the completion of the course I hope to stay in Spain with a job for 8 months or so. That number of months is highly questionable. My point here is, in one year I don't really know where I will be, but I like to have two things planned down the line. Two trips that is, at least until this crazy road I'm on has ended. A seed was planted in my head about taking a long touring bike trip after Spain, probably somewhere in USA and Canada . I don't know anything about biking, but it seems a pretty amazing thing to do, and anyways it's just an idea. Immediately have writing an email expressing my desire to do this to some friends I walked down the stairs of the giant mansion hostel I'm staying at and a guy comes riding into the hostel on his loaded up bike. He has been riding with his touring bike for 1.5 years. These are the coincidences in life that mean something to me. To me, these are signs.

We all have choices in this life. To go to work everyday. To buy a house, to take that trip, to buy that car. Why do you ultimately make those decisions? I'm quite sure you make those decisions based on a number of logical factors, all very logical of course, but I'm not sure all decisions need to be based on logic. This trip I'm on was because of a strange coincidence on my first trip to Mexico. A movie with a scene in it about traveling the world, which I had spoken about just before my trip was played on the first bus I got on in Mexico.

 My five month road trip around the States was basically decided because of my subscribtion to Backpacker magazine. I just became pissed reading about all the awesome hikes I could do all around the country and couldn't because I was in Connecticut. I'm getting off track here, but I like making sporadic decisions - major ones - based on something little like a coincidence or a feeling - major decisions are sometimes best made like that. My subconscience knows more about me than I do. If I tried to think about these things logically I'd just muddle it all up and wouldn't do anything. Yes, planning needs to be done consciencly, but the actually decision - go with the gut. So money willing - I'm on a bike some where in the world next summer/fall. Info or help on the subject is desperatly needed.

This trip has turned from five months into one week.  One week left of the greatest experience of my life.  Time is a funny thing.

Panama City from Casco Viejo 

Adios Nicaragua

I often don't really know how I get to where I want to go on travel day. In all honestly, when I get off a bus, if I even know where to get off the bus, I'm not always entirely sure of my next move. I never look forward to travel day. Central America doesn't make it easy, but it does make it cheap. Usually .50 cents to a couple dollars for a bus ride anywhere.

I left San Juan del Sur, my home for 10 days, and headed to Isla de Ometepe. It never ends up being terribly difficult to get to where I want to go, but I've just managed to learn to not care about knowing exactly how I need to get there. I needed to take a bus, a taxi, a boat, and another bus to make it to where I wanted to go. That much I did know, but how exactly to do that and where exactly the buses and taxis and boats were and how much they should cost were all mysteries, and generally always are. However, at the end of the day, I'm OK and I'm alive.

When I don't really know what to do I stand around like an idiot until a taxi driver or bus worker notices me. That's your best bet. You'll always be spotted, but you might get taken for a few extra dollars with that method. I used the "stand dumb" method to get to the port town of San Jorge, where the boat to Ometepe is. A taxi found me. I think I paid $2 more than I should have, but at least another dumb gringo was in the car and got beat with me.

Ometepe is crazy. From an aerial view it looks like a cell splitting into two right before cytokinesis (when they actually become two cells). The island is two volcanoes. Massive volcanoes coming straight up from close to sea level to 5,282 feet for the highest, active Volcan Concepcion, and 4,573 feet for the smaller non-active Volcan Madera. There are hundreds of tropical birds, lizards, and monkeys roaming the island. Lake Nicaragua (or Lake Cocibolca) where the volcano island sits is the 19th largest lake in the world and even has elusive fresh water sharks that managed to swim up a river from the Caribbean and effectively evolve to handle the freshwater. They were once abundant, but the Japanese some time ago made a shark-fin processing plant on the shores of the river and now there are very few sharks left. They are aggressive bull sharks known to attack fisherman and swimmers, so sadly, perhaps its for the best.

I had large ambitions of climbing one of the volcanoes for my birthday on May 18th, but the weather right now is ridiculously hot and humid. I didn't think spending 10 hours climbing up and down a volcano, dripping sweat, getting muddy, with no clean clothes to put on sounded like a great birthday present. Also, Lonely Planet mentions "deaths are common while climbing the volcano". Dieing wouldn't have been an ideal way to spend a birthday either. So instead, I did the next stupid choice and rented a motor bike. Errr....scooter. I tried to rent a motor bike. My friend with me at the time was quite confident I could just "pick it up", but after bucking and staling in my first few tries, the owner of the bike scratched that idea. Even on my 27th birthday I apparently don't have enough man in me for a proper motor cycle. But the scooter was really cute! For whatever reason the guy renting us the scooter and motor bike for my friend didn't mention that more than half the island is dirt road. Not just dirt road, but hilly, rocky, ridiculously terrible dirt roads. Absolutely no place for a shitty little scooter to be. Oh well.

The entire right "cell" is dirt, rocky, hilly road. My scooter was getting destroyed. First the real view mirrors began to loosen and just spin around as I bumped up and over ruts and rocks. Up and down steep hills. Then the floor mat padding cracked and came loose.

Some where on the second island we came to a park where there was meant to be a waterfall a few kilometers up a side road. We were asked if we wanted to walk the 4 km up or ride the bikes 3 km and just have to walk 1 more. Easy answer, we'll ride the bikes. However, the guy at the entrance failed to say the roads where at a 40 degree angle and switch backing up dirt track for 3 km (I have to say it was paved and beautiful in the beginning). My bike couldn't handle it. Multiple times I almost spun out and crashed, finally I did. With the gas all the way down the bike wasn't moving and I fell on my side and burned my ankle on the muffler. Tobias was way ahead cruising nicely on his motor bike. I was drenched in nervous sweat, thinking now how am I going to get down this? My confidence in riding was all but shattered. Tobias realized I was missing and came and took me up the final stretch and I left my bike on the side of the road. We hiked the final kilometer and guess what we found? Nothing. It's just the start of the rain season, thus no waterfall. So not only did the jackass at the bottom fail to say I might have some trouble with that shitty little scooter, he conveniently didn't mention that the waterfall we are going to see actually doesn't exist. Welcome to Central America. It never changes.

I was scared to death to go down and as soon as I tried I started skidding all over the place and nearly lost it into the woods. Luckily, even though Tobias is only 19, he seems to have more balls than me and we switched bikes for the descent. I just kept the motor bike off and held the brakes the whole way. It handled much better than my shit scooter and Tobias made it down fine.

We had the bikes for nearly 10 hours. About 5 of them over dirt roads. My bike, though not broken, was flapping plastic on both sides from all the jostling. We road past pigs rolling in mud, multiple chickens crossing the road, I think just to get to the other side, horses chased us down, at one point a stampede of cows blocked our path. The one right in front of me blocking my escape started peeing, where upon every other cow thought it was a good time to pee. That was pretty cool. Guys and girls carrying sticks and logs and bags on their heads. Lots of kids and adults on mountain bikes just living. This place is crazy. The whole time though I'm thinking about this bike that is falling apart underneath me and how much extra it's going to cost me when I bring it back in this condition. I hate this quality about me. Worrying about things I have no control over. It's so dumb. It effectively ruined the final part of my day because it's all I was thinking about. And you know what? I didn't have to pay any money extra. The guy didn't even give a care. I've managed to stop worrying about what I cannot control on travel days, but I still have work to do. Travel days always manage to work themselves out and so will other days. And so what if I had to pay extra for the bike? Why waste my time thinking and worrying over it? Dumb and dumber.

I did a bomber travel day today...from Ometepe to cross the Costa Rica border, my 7th walk across border crossing on this trip. No problems. Boarded a bus and am spending the night in the capital city of San Jose. Pretty much thinking of breezing through this country since I need to come back to fly out anyways. So tomorrow heading straight to the Caribbean, close to Panama where I'll get some reggae vibes for a couple days before heading to my last Central American country. No worries Matt, everything is gonna be alright...

Hombre Solitario

For the first two days in a city its like being a freshman. You graduate to a new grade every other night. I was a senior in Leon. When you're a senior you know all the ins and outs - of course I'm no expert of the city - I've been there only seven days, but in terms of a traveler I know all that needs to be known. I know new people that arrive at the hostel. I know how to close the door to the bathroom that's slightly off its hinge so you can have your private time after the morning coffee and where to find the only good knife in the kitchen. It starts to feel a bit like home. I can walk to the market with my eyes closed and I know the cheapest and best places to eat. In the beginning of this trip I generally only became a sophomore in the cities I visited, but now I've come to appreciate the perks of being a senior. It's not always worth attaining senior status and it's not always possible, but it's a great way to travel. 35 times now I've started over as a freshman in a new city and I've only become a senior three times. Twice in Nicaragua. All these countries are cheap, but Nicaragua might be up there as the cheapest. Plus, since its mango (.45 cents for a whole fruit of juicy heaven) and avocado season (.23 cents for creamy smoothness which makes your knees wobble and cave in pleasure) there's really no reason I should leave for a long long time.

Leon is a beautiful city in northwest Nicaragua. The many old churches are the main tourist attraction in town and lord knows (at least he should), that one CAN see entirely too many churches. The Spanish did an amazing job of spreading Christianity in the 1500 and 1600's. They built thousands of churches in every city from Mexico on down to Nicaragua. Every colonial city has five or six. Unfortunately Nicaragua, along with all of Central America also lies adjacent to the volcanic "Ring of Fire" and destroys many of the churches every hundred years or so. A sign from God saying "Stop building churches...please".

There is one very young volcano (150 years old) known as Cerro Negro (Black Hill) where some genius thought up the idea to hike to the top with a sled and have someone at the bottom with a speed gun. The record holder (87 km/hr - 55 mph) was an Israeli girl who didn't speak or understand English very well. She nodded all cute and Jewish as the instructions for slowing down and stopping where explained, but she had no clue. She lifted her feet on the board (what you use to slow down) and just bombed down the sandy, pebbly 30 - 45 degree slope of the 200 meter decent down the volcano. She set the record and as a consolation price crashed close to the bottom and received 20 stitches in her forehead. I would be setting no records. We were told once you hit 60 km/hr you have about a 60% chance of crashing. I hit about 55 km/hr. If I had another chance it's possible I would have gone to that illusive 60 km/hr - a Dr. Evil scar down my face might be good peacock for picking up girls.

From Leon I left Norway, the guy I'd been traveling with for almost a month. I gotta face it...I'm a Lonely Man traveler. I like to be Lonely Man in restaurants with my Lonely Man book and Lonely Man journal. I like to walk the streets as a Lonely Man with my Lonely Planet. I like my Lonely alone time with my book and my Lonely alone time on the bus. The truth is, there is Lonely Men all over the place - less common, but still possible to find is the Lonely Woman. One day Lonely Man will meet Lonely Woman - but this Lonely Man is perfectly happy with his Lonely self. Don't take this the wrong way - Lonely Man is not lonely. It's just the term for solo travelers eating solo in restaurants and walking solo through town. Sometimes, that's me and most of the time, that is how I love it. It's possible that gets me a few notches closer to Loser Man, but at least I'm Happy Man.

After Leon (and a couple days of beach time on the north pacific coast) I headed as Lonely Man to Granada in southern Nicaragua. Leon and Granada are both wonderful little cities, but sweaty balls hot. So hot its difficult to function in the day time. Granada sits right on the edge of the worlds 19th largest lake - Lago de Nicaragua is one name it goes by. The heat was boiling my brain and thus I only became a sophomore in Granada before severely needing some beach time.

San Juan del Sur is nestled in a little cove on the Pacific ocean. Its lovely and despite the still ever present heat there is always a nice breeze rolling through the streets. Perhaps the best thing about San Juan del Sur is the women. Not only the beautiful dark skinned, dark haired local beauties walking around, but only the cutest foreigners seem to swing through here. My only problem is I talk to the beautiful German who reminds me of the hot Nazi in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade only for her to drop the "my boyfriend...." line two hours in to great conversation or I talk to the sexy Costa Rican only for Ripple Pecks to walk over with his shirt off and steal her away. Then I think I'm doing pretty good with a cute local before I learn she's a prostitute from Managua. So it goes...

I took 20 more hours of Spanish lessons, 2 hours a day for 10 days, I got a 5 time pass to the local gym, and took surf lessons while in San Juan. I even got to be an extra in a movie being shot by Paramount Pictures in the five star hotel up on the hill over looking the entire city and ocean. It wasn't as cool as it sounds, but I did get free 5 Hour Energy's and EmergenC packets. The movie is a comedy called "Destination Wedding". I got to be one of the guests at the wedding. When the movie comes out I'll probably be the blurry out of focus bald dude. Be sure to peep it. We were there for 8 hours to in reality probably not actually be in the movie at all. So it goes...

I'm leaving San Juan del Sur on Monday the 16th after 12 days here. I have slightly more than 3 weeks left. I won't be a senior in a city again on this trip. I'm going to be moving quickly. One more stop in Nicaragua (the volcanic island Ometepe in Lago de Nicaragua) then I hope to see some of Costa Rica and Panama before my flight home from San Jose, Costa Rica. With luck and proper planning I'll make it as far as Panama City where the grass is green and girls are pretty.

Hombre Solitario hits the road manana and goes back to being a freshman...So it goes...

El Salvador, Honduras, and Day 100

A lot has happened and I've left you out of the loop. I apologize. For the first time on the trip I've taken on travel partners and I just haven't felt the desire to spend a couple hours in an internet cafe. I won't hit up everything - its been a good few weeks, I survived and traveled through probably the worst country in Central America (Honduras). Happy to say it is behind me.

Hmmmm....I don't even know where to start. Four weeks is like a good damn life time down here. I left off in El Salvador. Good country, but didn't stay as long as perhaps I should have. I'm generally a lonely man and I had a stage one clinger and had to get her off my tracks. So after climbing Volcan Santa Anna I had a do nothing day in the city of Santa Anna, let my clinger take off and headed to Honduras the following day to Copan Ruinas. The largest Mayan Ruins in Honduras don't rival those of Mexico and Tikal of Guatemala, but in a country with a terribly unworn tourist trail, it's a place not to be missed. I spent four days in the town of Copan Ruinas, located a mile from the site of the ruins. My last night in town, after a late night cantina party, while chatting merryly with my buddy, I was bitten in the calf by an angry dog. Ripped my pants and broke the skin with some nice teeth marks. It scared the shit out of me, but I was fine. Crap thing was, I needed a rabies vaccine, but I'd already booked and paid $250 Honduran Monopoly money for a 7 AM bus trip to La Ceiba. Two buses and about seven hours of travel away. From there the plan was to quickly catch the last boat to Utilla, an island off Honduras' coast - world renowned for its cheap dive schools. Rabies is only a deadly virus - I'll wait until Utilla to take care of it. However, about 14 hours after I had been bitten, on Utilla, after an hour roller coaster style bout ride where I ralphed up my delicious Burger King Whopper, I learned rabies vaccine are not located on this island and in fact, in order for it to be 100% effective it needs to be given within eight hours of the bite. Wonderful news. When untreated, a human being only survives approximately 8 days once rabies is relieved of its incubation period. With supportive care, life can be extended up to a month. Awesome. The doctor, although initially very angry with me for not taking care of this within eight hours, calmed my nerves. He confidently said all dogs in Central America have been vaccinated for rabies. All dogs? Yup - ALL dogs. I guess I don't have rabies then - phew! My friends are less confident in this diagnosis and cautiously avoid drinking from my cups to avoid contracting my rabies. Don't worry Mom. I don't have rabies.

Honduras is beautiful, but the people are stupid and that gets old quick. Also, like most of Central America, any roadside is a fine place for a landfill. Finished with your bag of chips Juan? Just throw it on the ground. Maria, finished with your bag of water on the bus? Why throw it in an actual garbage when your whole country is one? Ahhh. Look an open window! FLING!...but back to the stupid part...Maria doesn't know a light, flimsy bag won't drop down to the ground on a fast moving bus, but hit and splash the silly gringo looking out the window, half way down the bus. Why shouldn't he expect to be hit with trash while gazing at the landfill that is Honduras?

So eventually. It was time to leave the country. A great day. Easter left us high and dry because the Thursday and Friday prior there were no public buses in the country. Genius for tourism. On Saturday we had one day to make our move or we'd be stuck on Sunday. Saturday was a hell of day. A shit long travel day. Count 'em up. Two proper buses, four vans, three taxis, and a bike ride across the border finally brought us to Leon, Nicaragua. We did it nearly as best we could though. No major screw ups. So from the beginning....

We walked out of our hostel outside of Peña Blanca at 6:50 am and got Taxi #1 to town. Didn't wait long for Van #1 to take us to La Guama and Bus #1 was waiting for us to arguably the most dangerous city in Central America, the capital Tegucigalpa. Taxi #2 took us to Bus #2 where our bags where quickly ripped from the taxi and a group of bus company men where competing for our business. I took the one who stole my bag first where he kindly deposited it in the back seat of the bus - as far from the door as possible. Bus #2 brought us to Van # 2 in Choluteca, Honduras - the fourth largest city and equally crappy as the first three largest. This van needed to be push started and from the tattered foam showing in all the seats and rust and holey floor it was obviously purchased sometime in the Eisenhower administration. Finally we made it to the border city of Guasaule where the fun really began. We were treated like celebrities upon exiting the bus by eager men with wads of money hoping to rip us off in exchange for Nicaragua's currency. Guys with bikes competed with our bags. You'd have to see this to believe it. It was comical. We changed some money and hoped in the carriage of the bike guy who'd managed to steal our bags first. The borders do not seem unsafe, but they are. Apparently these guys on bikes protect you from all the bad people. Our first mistake on this journey was not securing a price for this bike trip before the ride actually took place. First they took us to the Honduran Immigration Exit and then next to the Nicaraguan entry. We waited an hour there. The bike guys nudging and pushing us forward in their attempt to speed up the process. One even waited in the other line in case it was faster. After that fiasco where Nicaragua charged us nearly all the money we had exchanged we got back on the bikes and the bike guys road us out to a deserted lot, about 250 meters down the road, which was apparently the bus station. Like an ass I mentioned I had a 500 bill in Honduran Lempiras (remember in Monopoly the 500's are actually pretty good) - so magically the price was 5oo each. That's about $25 US. Are you fucking crazy bro? We didn't even have that much and it would mean losing all our money and not having any for the final two van rides to Leon. It was now 5 in the afternoon. We were tired and irritated, but luckily Norway was also really pissed off and they managed to only take our 500 (my 500). Bastards. They would have gladly cleaned us out. We were running on pennies now, but fortunately Van #3 said they could get us to Leon. Lie. We were driven about an hour outside of Leon and before we knew what had happened the bus was stopped and the drivers had disappeared as other passengers where getting off ahead of us. So with our last 40 Cordobas ($2) we limped into Leon at 7:30 at night on Van #4 and paid for Taxi #3 after an ATM stop. It was a rough 12 and half hour travel day. We had survived though and extremely happy to have Honduras behind us. We found a place to sleep for $5 US a night and slept with a smile.

I've been shitting on Honduras pretty bad during this blog, but it deserves it. The three largest cities are some of the unsafest in all of Central America. There is trash everywhere and nearly every restaurant we went to could not manage to make a correct order for us. They even have a bill equivalent to .05 cents. Case closed.

So hello Nicaragua. One city - Leon and I'm already feeling better. Went to a cock fight. Lost a beer betting with a local. I went for the white cock - the black cock won. What was I thinking? There is always that next city, that next town, and next hostel. Nicaragua. Here I come.