I left Nicaragua tuesday morning at 8:30 am. Took a taxi to the border, got an exit stamp, walked across to Costa Rica and was greeted by a MASSIVE line of people waiting. I did not move for one hour. Everyone was telling different stories about what was going on. After about 4 hours and still hardly moving I was starting to think I was going to have to spend the night there. Apparently the computers were down and there was electrical problems. There was probably only one person working and no police or anything around to regulate what was happening. The back of the line was pretty orderly, people waiting patiently in the hot sun not really caring to question whats going on, stuff like this just happens. The front was more chaos, people raming the doors, they ended up closing the offices. They were taking 20 passports at a time then coming back and handing them out. Crazyness. Maybe a 100 people got in this way and there was probably at least 500 in line by midday. Then they closed for lunch, 2 hours. After the doors reopened they were only taking bribes. People were paying $50 to get in and they did the rest of us just waiting while they made as much money as they could.
Finally at 4:30 the line started moving, all the windows were open and they were just stamping passports like crazy. I´m pretty sure no one had a problem getting into Costa Rica that day, apart from the waiting in line in the heat and filth.
Since it was getting dark by the time I was permitted into the country I spent the night in Liberia, took a hot babying crying bus to Alajuela yesterday morning and am now 2 hours away from going to the airport.
As much as going home feels strange because its been so long. I cannot wait to get into my bed and wash all the smelly grossness in my backpack and enjoy a hot shower without the fear that it will turn ice cold any minute, drink the tap water, put toilet paper in the toilet and many other small pleasures like these.
I left Honduras about 2 weeks ago and came back to Nicaragua. After the revisit 2 months later I can still say that Nicaragua is my favourite country. Despite being the poorest, dirtiest and the most in need of help in development and education. (Recycling here, which is advertised everywhere, consists of them at least separating the plastics from the garabe, throwing them into a separate recycling designated field and lighting it on fire).
Spent a few days in Leon which was just as hot as I remembered it being. Climbed Cerro Negro, the active volcano close by, walked around in the sulphur smoke filled crater, nearly toppled over the edge from the intense winds then ran down the whole thing.
Then went back to Granada which is just a boring as I remembered it being, but still pretty in its colonial way.
From there to Laguna de Apoyo, beautiful, really cool hostel, cooked delishious food, swam, tanned, read, drank, kayaked, etc. Good times.
And finally for the last week I´ve been in San Juan del Sur a hot a sunny beach/surf town. But there have been some really really strong winds that it makes going to the beach nearly impossible, you put on your sunscreen or come out of the ocean (which is pins and needles cold right now, my feet went numb I have NO idea how people were surfing without wetsuits) and you are instantly (as someone in the hostel just put it) ¨tarred and feathered with sand¨.
I almost got a tattoo....but its closed today and SADDEST NEWS OF IT ALL....tomorrow I´m making my way back to San Jose for my last day then flying home on thursday.
This does not in the slightest way seem real to me. I think because I´m not even in the country Im flying out of it seems so far away but I will within a matter of hours tomorrow be in the last hostel I will stay in for my trip, eat my last plate of rice and beans, speak my last bit of spanish and peace back to Canada.
8 months. I has been 8months and the thought of going home, though yes exciting for all the comforts and not living out of a backpack purposes, sounds good, is just WEIRD more than anything. That´s all I can really say, it´s just weird. Everything is simple here. And home is soo....complex. Deep I know.
I think the sun has not only fried my hair and skin but my mind too. Or maybe its the Flor de Caña.
Friday morning I left Belize on the boat to Honduras. The ride took a lot longer than we all thought, no surprise there really, and I didn´t get into La Ceiba until 930, a good 13 hour adventure.
I planned on spending a couple nights in La Ceiba first and maybe doing a rafting thing but met a group of people going to Utila in the morning so figured why not join.
When we got to the island you are attacked by people from every dive school trying to get you to sign up with them. I really had NO intention of diving because Ive been unsure about whether I feel comfortable doing it but I gave in to the peer pressure and signed up (idiot!).
It was just me and this german guy taking the class and after reading the book and watching the videos and blah blah blah I was kinda excited. Then this morning came around and we got our equipment, put it together, took it apart etc etc. Then got in the water. I HATE BREATHING OUT OF MY MOUTH! I know its stupid and most people probably get used to it but I SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY HATE IT. The asthma means I shouldn´t dive anyway and breathing through my mouths just freaks me out. Plus Im fucking skinny as fuck and I was barely floating even with my BCD fully inflated and was just not comfortable. After about 5minutes of swimming around getting used to the regulator (or not in my case) he says we´re going down. NOOOOOOO I told him I wasnt ready yet and really didnt want to but NOpe I was going down whether I liked it or not. So naturally I freaked out. I felt totally trapped. I stayed under for a few breaths, trying to calm myself down but it just wasn´t working. I came up and I will Never dive again.
AHhhh Im cringing thinking about it. Im sure its wonderful but it just gives me the creeps. Then I freaked out a bit in my room later thinking I have the bends but thats just me and my paranoid nature. Im fine.
I dont even like swimming or snorkeling that much and at least now I know I really dont like diving. But now I feel like the black sheep of Utila because everyone here is diving and LOVES diving. Plus the weather has been shit so I need a new plan.
Ok that´s my rant. I feel better now but I think I´m going to have nightmares of being trapped underwater.
Staying has been the smartest idea I've had in a long time. I have a lot of bad ideas, such as going home early.
Belize has been amazing. Beautiful. Ridicuously beautiful and even more expensive but for one week I managed cheaply enough.
Met 2 girls from Manitoba on the bus from Mexico to Belize City and stayed with them in Caye Caulker in this really really cute guest house with the sweetest man George who cleaned our rooms.
Went snorkeling and saw my first hawksbill and a massive moray eel that one of the guides started feeding and it almost bit him, creepy!
Ate some amazing fish. Then left for Placencia, further south got in late at night and shared a double room with the 2 girls - I slept on the floor. Tile floor, 1 sheet, 3 towels, 1 sheet and a pillow was surprisingly comfy after the sleeping pill I took.
Spent the last 2 days laying on the beach, soaking sun, smokin hot and nursing a bottle of coconut rum a guy gave me on the street because he was flying home and didnt want to check his bag. Thanks random guy.
Tomorrow I leave on an overpriced boat ($55 for 2hours, it was $10 for 4 hours in Nicaragua) to Honduras and will pretty much be spending my last 3 weeks in Central America on beaches before the big return Feb19th.
Life is good. Ching Ching (sips coconut rum)
For awhile I´ve been debating with the idea of going home. Since I got to Guatemala the beginning of December I noticed my attitude over the traveling thing was starting to change. Yes I´m still having an amazing time and loving what I´m doing and the people Im meeting, experiences, etc, but after 6plus months, living out of a backpack, packing and unpacking constantly, riding on buses and being dirty and uncomfortable and meeting new people everyday gets very very tiring. It is not a normal life whatsoever. Though I love it, in increments.
My last few days in Mexico the weather has been shit and rainy and I´ve been sick, the sickest I´ve been my whole trip and it made me just want to say Fuck it all and go home. So I looked for flights from Cancun to Toronto and found very reasonably priced ones but seeing them something felt off like a panic like no no no Kristin not yet. All afternoon Ive been debating it and as much as part of my really wants to go home (I´m actually starting to miss it for the first time in this trip) I can´t deal with 1. doing it tomorrow and 2. not seeing Belize and Honduras because I know I will regret it.
Even though I have a very very small about of money left that will not be remotely sufficient for the next 34 days I cannot go home just yet, something just doesn´t feel right about it. And if after these few days in Caye Caukler, Belize something changes and the urge to go home feels right, well Cancun is only an 8 hour bus away.
I choose the experiences over the debt.
Plus those extreme cold weather warnings in Ontario right now are not very welcoming, I´m sticking with the beach.
Oooooh the beach.
Ive been in Mexico a weekish now. Enjoying it thoroughly. Except the hundreds of bites I got this morning because our hostel is infested with mosquitos apparently.
The other day we went out for dinner at this Italian place, Don Mucho´s. I was starving before hand and just really wanted a hunk of meat (who doesnt really) but when I got there not so hungry anymore and just opted for a salad. Not just a boring salad though, it came with garlic bread, cheese (oh my god I miss decent cheese!), pecans and olives, a SHIT LOAD of olives. In fact so many olives I moved them all over to my bread plate to successfully eat the salad, olive oil dressing, hello delishicousness, and here were no joke 17 olives in my salad! This was pure joy for me, the person that walks past the little olive bars in grocery stores, takes a big whiff and goes weak in the knees. I fucking love olives. Black ones, phew I spit on you. Its all about the big green ones with the pits in the oil and hot pepper stuff (pause to wipe drool). I kept asking Geoff if he was sure he didn´t want an olive and he kept saying no, which I was secretly happy about. Then as I filled my salt intake for the next week and ate the last one, he proudly(?) or maybe it was a mixture of disgust and amazment said You just ate 17 olives. Which, is pretty ridiculous I must say, but also a major achievement I think. I have no shame. Bring on 18 olives. Who puts 17 olives in a small salad anyway? The greatest kitchen staff ever, thats who.
New Years Eve in Cancun wasnt exactly how I expected it to be, though it was still entertaining.
The crazyness is expected was confind to the clubs which had entrance fees of 50-150$ which even for all you can drink, I just didnt feel like paying. Especially when I can get 3litres of beer for a buck a piece and get pretty well drunk off that.
So I stayed at the hostel, began drinking on the rooftop terrace around 3, was joined by some other cheap ass backpackers, shared a bottle of tequila with 2 american guys and proceeded to have a very drunken but relatively chill night. Which is the way I like to do things. I went to out to eat with someone and when I came back the 2 other guys had passed out, this was not exceptable behaviour. I decided waking them up before midnight was necessary and what was even MORE necessary was doing so by bursting into their room with sparklers, I grabbed my equally drunk new found friend and we hit the streets searching, at 1145, which is about the time all the firework vendors go home. So unfortunately I just burst into their room, turned on the light and yelled. One managed to get up, the other (that drank most of the bottle of tequila) was a lost cause. We hit the streets of Cancun with beer filled plastic coffee mugs.
The streets were really busy earlier so we figured we´d just wander and stop with a group of people, but NO ONE was around. Strange. Yes. SOOOOO since it was about 4minutes to 12 we headed to a busy street, which was also void of persons. Now it was already 12 but thats not the point here. There was a Israeli Tacos restaurant and I decided THAT was the spot we needed to have our countdown. And lucky for us as we were beginning our fake countdown people from a near by restuarant came out to the street, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and we just joined in with them. Then watched a far too drawn out fireworks show in the distance.
And THAT was my New Years.
