using my inside voice |
Central American Travel | August 31, 2009
It sent chills up and down my spine, like nothing I'd ever experienced. I could feel it coming like a distant train you know is imminent only due to the slightest tingle at the very tip of your toes. It started building and I didn't just have one butterfly in my stomach, I had an army of butterflies, all wearing Doc Martins and doing their own interpretation of Riverdance.
As it got closer, the tension built to proportions only encountered in bad romance novels. And then, the earth moved. It was as if the room itself shook with the force of what I can only call one of the most unbelievable occurrences of my life. At that final moment, shaken to the depths of my soul, I knew I had experienced something very special - my first earthquake.
It was 9.30am on a lazy Thursday morning. We had spent the previous day lounging to our heart's content at Fuentes Georginas, the most hot, steamy and incredibly relaxing hot springs right near Xela, Guatemala. We'd gotten up at 6am that day for an early swim, to have the pools to ourselves, before shuttle buses full of tourists and pickups loaded with locals arrived to steal our serenity. After our early morning enthusiasm it was back to bed to stack up some more zzz's. At 9.30am I was woken by a small earthquake (good timing really, since I'd meant to get out of bed then anyway).
It was a strange sensation because you could literally hear it coming from a few miles away, a small rumbling in the distance, like an angry, empty stomach protesting for food. When I heard it I sat up in bed and looked around to figure out what in our room could be making such an odd sound. I quickly ruled out my own stomach and turned to the fireplace questioningly. It sat silent and ashen to my inquisitive glare. Then, just as my brain started to wake up, our little cabin shook right down to it's Guatemalan foundations. It's unimaginatively-constructed entirety wobbled like red jelly on Christmas Day. I was excited, but afterwards prayed that another of the quake's larger cousins wouldn't come for a visit...
To take our mind off potential impending disaster, we headed to the restaurant overlooking the pools and had eggs and beans for breakfast.
More soon...
Central American Travel | August 25, 2009
After only leaving Antigua and Spanish School four days ago, I feel I am already starting to deteriorate. Part of the problem is that as Luke and I are always talking to each other in English, we don't often find the need to speak in Spanish, other than saying, "Quiero un cafe negro por favor," (I'll have a black coffee please). Or, "Tiene una capa por la lluvia?" (Which no-one could understand anyway - I was asking for a rain coat and I never did get one...)
So, starting today some bets will be laid. We are going to hold ourselves to only speaking Spanish to each other for certain periods of time, for example, from 4pm-7pm this evening. If we don't know a word, we have to look it up. If we can't figure out how to say something we have to keep trying until we do. If we can't figure out what the other person has said we can ask them to repeat it, and have to keep working until we know what on earth is going on.
And, just to keep things juicy, we're going to pay each other 1 Quetzale each time one of us lapses into English. We will keep a tally for the entire trip, and at the end, hopefully one of us will have to buy the other a present of some sort. (I know what my present will be - more jewellery please!)
This little game was actually my Spanish teacher, Juan Luis's, idea. I thought it was a cracker, and he said another couple that had tried the same tactic had excelled - hopefully we do the same!
I'll keep you updated on who's winning :)
More soon...
Central American Travel | August 23, 2009
In breaking news, it has recently come to light that the second-class buses in Guatemala, also known as Pullman buses, snot on the Greyhound.
Greyhound, North America's leading provider of horrendously scarring and mind-bogglingly painful bus transportation, was contacted to comment on this story but declined, stating only that it was unfair to compare one of the poorest countries on the planet with the world's leader.
A representative from Pullman bus was unable to be reached, but a recent traveler, Miss Bay Oliver, spoke up for the Guatemalan transport system.
"Pullman buses are unbelievable," Miss Oliver enthused.
"They snot on Greyhound in so many ways, it's actually incredibly embarrassing. One small example is that, none of the patrons are clinically insane," she said.
"On top of that, the air-conditioning doesn't recycle 5-hour-old farts as you can open the windows, the drivers only stop to pick up passengers then keep moving (unlike Greyhound drivers who spend 20 minutes smoking, looking around and scratching their nuts) and there are food vendors that jump on and off providing tasty, locally-made treats to passengers."
After arriving safe and sound in Xela from Guatemala City Miss Oliver declared she would definitely ride the Pullman bus again, and would even consider a chicken bus if the trip was short.
Central American Travel | August 21, 2009
Two weeks in Antigua = ...
It's been an interesting two weeks.
Our homestay for the two weeks was at a lovely house, Casa de Lorena, with Lorena cooking our meals and taking care of us like all good Mums do. Lorena is actually from Mexico, and during our stay we had the opportunity to taste a variety of Mexican dishes, such as home-made mole enchiladas, unbelievable tomales, cream of tortilla soup (Lorena's own creation), a variety of different salsas and much more. It was all pretty delicious, but of course there were a few dishes that weren't completely to our taste...
On those days it reminded me being 12 years old again, sitting at Mum and Dad's dining room table and choking down chunks of zucchini, trying not to barf, then asking to go to the bathroom so I could spit it in the bin. Okay, maybe in this case that is a slight exaggeration, but there was one particular morning where Luke couldn't muster up the strength to make his way through an entire bowl of porridge, according to Luke it's like eating glue, and Lorena took it incredibly well, insisting that he not force it down.
Learning Spanish was incredibly hard. Spanish is worlds apart from English, with masculino and feminino for everything, and so many versions of the same verb it makes my head spin. For those who don't speak, I will provide an example. The verb,"to have" - Tener - has five versions in Latin American Spanish, in simple present tense alone (it has six versions in Spain...)
There are five more for past tense simple. It is so damn confusing and requires a lot of concentration. I find myself saying about one word every two seconds when speaking to people, and having to ask everyone to repeat what they said at least once. It's challenging, but also really interesting and actually a little bit fun.
I am finally, well and truly, coming to terms with the culture, and have gotten to be quite good at the old market haggle. I asked my Spanish teacher and got some good advice - start at 50% of the initial price, and never pay more than 75%. Though, when I went to an artisan's market the other day, that had fair fixed prices, it was a bit of a relief not to have to go through the process!
On Sunday Luke and I leave Antigua for Xela. It is with mixed feelings that we depart. I'm buzzing about being on the road again, but also a little sad to leave Antigua. What I first thought was a dingy, run-down, chaotic town, I now realise is a funky, cosmopolitan (by Guatemalan standards) and friendly oasis. It was a shock to the senses coming to Guatemala for the first time after shiny, sparkling, organised and English-speaking North America, but I can already see that Central America will hold a special place in my heart.
More soon...
Central American Travel | August 10, 2009
We stepped out of the airport into chaos. It was 8pm, there were crowds of family members, taxi drivers, shuttle drivers, and general peddlers of transport hustling the travelers as they exited. A meagre looking temporary fence was holding them at bay, at least for the moment. I took a deep breath, and a good look around for a sign with my name on it, hoping to see "Bay Oliver" in big, bold, safe letters. Letters that would declared in no uncertain terms that we would be safe, that our shuttle would enfold us in its modest interior, and take us to Antigua post haste.
Alas, there was no sign of the sign. No sign letting me know that without hassle or incident I would be ushered to my pre-arranged, pre-booked accommodations in Antigua for a good, safe, sound night's sleep. Did I mention safe?
As you can see, there is a theme appearing here. That being, fear for my own safety. As a novice Central American traveler, I had spent the past two days silently fretting that upon arrival in Guatemala I would be kidnapped, have all my possessions stolen, be held at knife-point, or some combination of the above. I had been assured there would be someone at the airport holding a sign with my name on it, ready to take Luke and I directly to Anitgua. Alas, there was no such person is sight.
I wandered aimlessly through the throngs of taxi and shuttle drivers hoping one of them was my man, and finally, I saw a short fellow with an A4 piece of paper. Written on it in red biro was "Oliver Bay"... close enough. "That's me!" I practically screamed in his ear (or over his head if truth be told, Guatemalans are certainly not a race known for their height).
This wonderfully sweet guy grabbed our trolley of bags, and with a few phrases of Spanish that were a complete indecipherable to me, took us straight to our shuttle.
The first few days in Antigua were a complete culture shock. Peddlers in the square, tuc tucs everywhere, chicken buses blowing pollution from their exhaust pipes, and cobbled streets that are a menace to anyone without sensible shoes (and even to an uncoordinated few WITH sensible shoes - no names mentioned)... it really was intense, like nothing I'd ever experienced. And, Antigua (according to the lonely planet) would be what Guatemala was like in fantasy-land. Great! If I can't handle the most westernised, English-speaking, safe city in Guatemala, how was I going to cope with the rest???
But, after wandering the streets to find a Spanish school, a few dinners out, and our first trip away (to Lago de Atitlan & the Chichicastenango markets) I think I've finally come to understand and be comfortable with a country that up until a week ago was a complete unknown to me.
The people are tiny, wonderful, generous, persistent and amazing hagglers. Porches and BMW's pass poor women selling their handicrafts, a mojito and a meal will set you back a mere $7 or so, and the countryside is both breathtakingly beautiful in the country, and littered with rubbish on the street-sides. Power lines crowd the streets and the view one moment, and the next you're in the middle of nowhere watching a waterfall, that probably doesn't have a name, and that no-one really cares about, cascade down a mountainside.
I think we're finally settling in, and with three days Spanish School under my belt, I'm feeling more and more confident getting around town and getting what I need done.
We moved in with our host family last night. Lorena is wonderful, with her 1.5-year-old grandson around to keep us entertained. We're the only people staying with her at the moment, and we are literally staying in palatial quarters. Our room has a king-sized bed, a couch, dining table, kitchenette, beautiful bathroom, and really everything you could want. Lorena is soon opening a restaurant, so needles to say, her food is delicious. Plus, our house is inside a compound, with a lush green yard and trees everywhere. We really seem to have lucked out!
At the moment we're at a cafe that makes amazing espresso/Americanos/Lattes, and has wifi! Go Guatemala :)
Time to go and buy some water.
More soon...
North American Travel | August 2, 2009
It was actually a profound relief, in some ways, to get back to Canada. It just feels like home, even though I've only been to Toronto once before on business, and even though I've only really seen the inside of the Sheraton and nothing was familiar, it just feels like Canada again, and for me, for the past three years, Canada has been home.
It wasn't exactly what I was expecting. Many of our Vancouver friends are former Torontarians, and seem to have a love-hate relationship with the city. So, I'd previously written it off as somewhere I didn't need to visit. But, I'm glad I changed my mind.
Toronto is probably awful in winter, and I can see that it doesn't have the natural beauty of Vancouver, but it certainly has it's share of funky cafes, cute streets and a rough and ready urban feel (the 35-day garbage strike that littered the streets with empty coffee cups, soft drink cans and general debris didn't help with this, but we chose to ignore it!)
We wandered Queen Street West, got caught in a massive storm (37mm in 2 hours massive) and had to duck into the nearest cafe. Luckily for us we scored a good one - Java Cafe had $4.75 omelettes and $1.25 coffee! It also tasted great and provided a wonderful perspective from which to watch the downpour. By the time it subsided we were ready to head down the rest of the street.
Queen Street West is literally packed with local designer shops, gorgeous and trendy cafes and people to watch by the dozen. We spent about 45 minutes walking in one direction, came back and had a coffee on the way, then walked home, which literally took us all day. One could easily pass a few days on this street if they wanted to try out more than one cafe and decided to drop a few hundred on Toronto's local couture.
Kensington Market, Chinatown and Yorkville were also on the agenda with daily lunches at different cafes. One particular highlight was Aunties and Uncles cafe just off College Street. The line up we saw on Saturday morning had been enough to tell us it was worth a shot, but we ventured there on Monday instead to avoid some of the crowds, and boy, was it worth it - basil, leek and havarti omlette with a side of dill potato salad and Challah toast anyone?
We had wanted to visit the Toronto Islands for a wander through some of the (apparently) quaint streets, but due to the garbage strike the ferries weren't operating - go figure!
Our last, and probably one of our most anticipated, stops was Montreal. Je taime Montreal...
We visited Montreal last year for two weeks and it truly stole our hearts. So many wonderful restaurants, apportez votre vin (BYO) and that in-your-face attitude that speaks volumes when compared with the overly-attentive style so present in Vancouver, made it one of my favourite cities in the world (so far!)
Given that there was so much build up to this stop, I did wonder whether we would be disappointed ... but no. Montreal has captured our hearts again. We spend most mornings visiting a different area of the city - St Catherine's St (for shopping and coffee), Fairmont St (for bagels, Portuguese chicken and coffee), Jean Talon Markets (for picnic food and ice-creams), The Latin Quarter (for wonderful Turkish Mint Tea), Blvd St Laurent (for Schwartz's smoked meat) and so on. Basically, we walk for a few hours, eat something, then walk back to our B & B, Le Gite.
In the afternoon we chill out, nap, read, surf the net, then around 6.30pm we had to the SAQ (liquor store) search for a likely looking restaurant with "Apportez Votre Vin" in big letters, then tuck in for a good feed.
It really is the life.
Tonight, however, we're living it up like real grown-ups and going to a restaurant that we've heard so much about - Au Pied De Cochon (a pig's foot). We can't even bring our own wine to this one, if that tells you anything about how much we want to go there!
Before that we're going to head to Camelia Sinesis for that Turkish tea I was mentioning, then to Scwartz's for our smoked meat fix. In the afternoon we're heading to Mont Royal for the weekly Sunday Tam Tam session (that's djembe drumming for those non-Quebecers). I just hope it's on today as the weather isn't looking too inviting. It's threatening thunder storms, but I'm going to keep my fingers crossed anyway.
Tomorrow, scarily, is our last day in North America. We have to decide carefully how we're going to spend it, because there are so many wonderful things to do in Montreal (as long as you like eating and drinking!)
Then on August 4th we head to Antigua, Guatemala, for three weeks of Spanish school... this means I may also not be blogging as frequently. It's hard to know what wifi will be like, or how often we might get to internet cafes, but I'm aiming not to be too sporadic.
More soon...
North American Travel | July 30, 2009
After meeting Patti and Steph in Savannah we were lucky enough to be invited to stay with them in New Paltz for a few nights. New Paltz is in the mountains north of New York City (in NY state) and is a picturesque little town with an incredibly funky vibe. You can get 3 delectable tacos for $5, a $1.95 all day breakfast, and pitchers of beer for $5.50 all within two minutes walk of each other. On top of that, there are a load of funky little shops that are practically begging you to open your wallet and purchase a cute little hat, or sherred tie-died dress.
For four nights we stayed with Patti, in her cute house about 15 minutes outside of town. It was a refreshing break, not only from hostels, but also from cities. Luke and I have literally spent the past 1.5 months hopping from city to city, and in New Paltz we finally saw mountains, streams, waterfalls and rolling green fields.
We were initially only going to stay two nights, but after our first day chilling out with Patti and Steph we decided to give Boston a miss and stay on in the country. Lucky for us we did, because on our second night there we went to a BBQ at a friend's place and ended up getting to bed at 3am.
After Luke cooking up a storm on the BBQ (as only male Australians can) and talking the night away with a bunch of new people, we ended up in the dance studio downstairs learning the steps to Michael Jackson's Thriller. Needless to say, at 3am after a few too many glasses of wine, our efforts were fairly dismal, but it was a fun attempt none-the-less. We have video evidence of our sad show somewhere, but I can't seem to get my hands on it at the moment... shame.
The next few days were spent chilling out at various locations around town with both Patti and Steph, partaking in the above-mentioned bargain treats. But, I did manage not to come away with another dress.
On our final night in town we cooked up a storm at Patti's house and had a fire out the back in her firepit. With some Coltrane playing and a few Jameson & Drys it really was a great way to end our stay. It was also our last stay in the USA, as the next evening we hopped a bus to Toronto.
More soon...
Bay's career has been many and varied due to a penchant for traveling the world. After completing a double degree in Business Management and Journalism at the University of Queensland in 2002 she was lucky enough to land herself a job at Brisbane's Quest Community Newspapers. A year of roving reporting brought the epiphany that journalism and Bay didn't jive.
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