The Burly Unknown!

This is a post using the wordpress app on the iPhone.

This is my nephew. He is a bullfighter.

When you’re traveling in Central America, you get spoiled by certain things.

Another colonial town?  Stupid Neoclassical facade…

Sweet, a breathtaking sunset.  Quit showing off, sun and horizon.

I’m sure that this volcano is good too, but I’ve already hiked 37 of them.

Enter volcano boarding.  The good folks in Leon, Nicaragua found a way to get you to come see one of their volcanos.  The idea is that you hike up a an active volcano, don an orange jumpsuit and safety goggles, and careen recklessly downward.  Honestly, I would have gone to the volcano solely for the orange jumpsuit.  I wish I could have gotten some video, because there were some stellar diggers, but I was too busy picking gravel out of my scalp.

Hello website.

I am finally back in the states… well Ft. Lauderdale airport at least. Dry your eyes, this will not be the end of my postings. I still have yet to write about volcano boarding and canopy ziplines (yes, those both sound as rad as they are…errr… or vice versa). Then I will be completing my opus: A start to finish account of the trip, replete with hilarity and nudity and hilarious nudity and nude hilariousness.

Until then, I leave you with this. Something that has a vague connection to traveling, but is nonetheless hilarious.

There´s a new gunslinger in town. Enter SkyHigh Airlines. Seat-of-your-pants piloting and state of the art customer service policies place SkyHigh squarely among the avante garde of low cost carriers.

Straight from the horses mouth:

We were rated number two for the longest time for a certain kind of service. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, we shot straight to the top.

You can read more about Skyhigh here.

It had been raining for 15 days straight in Honduras.  Most of the roads are washed out and the rivers are swollen and in danger of flooding their banks.

Let´s go rafting!!!

After being stuck on Utila for 5 days, getting up every morning at 6 am to walk half a mile in the rain to see if the ferry is running, me and a group of travelers decided we needed to get off the island at all costs.  We decided to get a plane and fly off.  All costs actually ended up being $65; not very dramatic.

We arrived in La Ceiba soaked and unhappy.  What does one do when their soaked and unhappy?  Go to Applebee´s.  After a satisfying and lively meal (I had one of those artery clogging triple appetizer meals.  I had to sign a waiver and the waiters were required to hover above me with a defibrilator), we began to search for accommodations.  After we had settled ourselves at a hostel, comfortable and dry and reeking of mildew, we sorted out our options.  We could either try to get down to Nicaragua the next day or chance fate and test our mettle against the raging torrents of the Rio Cangrejal.  What did we choose to do you ask?  (Insert kick ass music)

The Cangrejal was awesome, if a little scary.  It was my third chance to test out my Olympus waterproof camera (the first two being Semuc Champey and scuba diving).  This is one of the only pics I took.  It is difficult to take photos while rocketing down class 87 rapids.

Over the past month and a half, I have met a fair amount of other backpackers. In general, these are normal people just looking for a little adventure in their lives. However, some of these people have idiosyncrasies (or multitudes of them) that set them apart from your everyday traveler. These journeying souls are truly gems and should be cherished and nurtured, for they provide much needed hilarity in our lives.

1. The Expert: The Expert knows more about traveling and is better at it than you. In fact, you suck at traveling and at life in general. You went to Tibet? That’s probably good enough for you, but the Expert will tell you how much better it was last September when he was there and saw the most amazing sunset while sipping hot green tea from the cupped hands of the Dalai Lama. You hiked the trail to Machu Pichu? He did it faster. In the dark. With no food. Walking on his hands. He is the guy wearing local clothing, because he can’t condescend to wear anything western (a dirty word, in his book) and ruin his vast understanding and intrinsic empathy with whatever local culture he is currently absorbing.

   The Expert generally travels alone and is characterized by a smug/ disdainful expression. The Expert has no friends because no one can really relate to him on his level because of the deep and meaningful experiencess he has had.

2. Super Technical Gear Guy (STGG): The STGG wears technical pants with zip-off legs and a hat that conveys the sense that he just traversed the Sahara desert strapped to the top of a Land Rover. He has more zippers on his person at any given moment than the entire cast of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” That bag that you’re traveling with? Piece of crap. The STGG will tell you why the neoprene lining is subject to corrosion under certain conditions. His bag is bullet proof and doubles as six person raft in an emergency. Flip flops? Don’t be so stupid. Big. Ass. Hiking. Boots. Period. STGG understands that he may have to summit a mountain at any given moment. Cotton t-shirt? Nothing touches STGG’s skin that doesn’t immediately wick away unwanted moisture and protect from malaria, dengue fever, and dozens of other exotic tropical diseases.

   STGG is more prepared than you. First aid kit? His portable triage unit can treat scores of burn victims while simultaneously curing a plague epidemic in a mid-sized village.

   The STGG can travel alone or in packs. They can be glimpsed in between billion mile hikes lounging next to their gargantuan packs drinking vitamin-enhanced water from Nalgene bottles wearing matching Chacos or Crocs, their only acceptable footwear outside of hiking boots.

3. Travel Hippy: Travel Hippy is wearing a bandanna and hasn’t shaved her legs or armpits in 3 months. She is a vegan and doesn’t eat anything that casts a shadow. She can’t stand to be at the same table as anyone who is eating “animal flesh” and flounces off in a huff if anyone orders a hamburger. The carrots in her organic hemp carryall died of natural causes. She rolls joints and smokes pot.

   Travel Hippy has a terrible secret. Travel Hippy is not a hippy back in the States. In fact, Travel Hippy secretly misses her Louis Vuitton purse and $900 pumps. Four months ago Travel Hippy was wearing a sorority t-shirt and blasting Britney Spears in her white SUV. She doesn’t even like Phish and can only name two Grateful Dead songs. Travel Hippy has a low self esteem and likes to get drunk on Bud Light. Her first meal upon her return to the States will be a Big Mac and Diet Coke.

   The Travel Hippy can travel alone or in pairs. Any more people that know who they are in real life can endanger the faux legitimacy of their newfound persona. They answer to “forest names” such as Pupa or Wombat.

4. Idiot: Khaki shorts. Baseball cap. The Idiot doesn’t understand why everyone doesn’t speak English, except when he loudly complains about his host country, in which case he clearly expects that no one near him understands English. His blank stare is devoid of comprehension when you tell him that “bathroom-o” doesn’t mean bathroom in Spanish. He thinks everything smells bad and refuses to sample the local cuisine. He carries American junkfood in his ubiquitous Jansport backpack and plans his travels around major metropolitan destinations that are likely to have American fast food restaurants.

   The Idiot travels exclusively in groups, aspiring to bring as much of America with them as possible. You can find the Idiot in your nearest McDonald’s.

5. Party Guy: Party Guy’s sole purpose in traveling is to get drunk at every destination. Party Guy doesn’t care about the 12^th century monastery at the top of the mountain… unless they sell beer. The Party Guy saw a sunrise once. He was passed out on the top of the Mayan ruins in his underwear. Party Guy still wears his wrist bands from all the clubs he went to in Cancun, and will continue to do so until spring break comes along.

   The Party Guy is readily identifiable by his frosted tips and tribal armband tattoo. He is sunburned. He is usually accompanied by other Party Guys and Party Girls whose vocabulary mainly consists of “wooo” and inarticulate ramblings about how effed up he or she got in Belize.

The beauty of these travelers is that there is a little bit of them in every one of us. I find myself guilty of the same infractions that these stereotypes have elevated to such an art. The trick is to have fun, try to find a good balance, keep a sense of humor, and not take yourself so seriously.