My time in Thailand

Posted on May 26, 2014 by otroviajero

I was supposed to be in Thailand for just 2 weeks, but have ended up staying 29 days. In Koh Samui, I struck a piece of coral and ended up having to get stitches on my right foot which affected my mobility and influenced my travel plans. Instead of going to Myanmar as planned, I forfeited the flight ticket and instead chose to recover in Thailand. And yet, life operates in the incredible fashion that it does, and things happen the way they are supposed to – in the sense that opportunities always exist in every situation, and when one door closes there’s at least another one that opens up.
…
Here’s a somewhat vague and disorganized rundown of my past month. I had intended Thailand to primarily be a stepping stone to get to other countries in Southeast Asia, but it has turned out to be quite the highlight. To be honest, it’s not because of the landscape or the food; it’s because of the company I’ve had the privilege of keeping. Travelling really is all about the amazing people you meet, and the past month I have lived is proof of that.

1
flight, Manila, walking, Silom, haircut, visa photos, taxi, turn the metre on, Chinatown, dinner, Luke, Wales, Jerry, US

2
application, embassy, Myanmar visa, food stalls, Grand Palace, Wat Pho, dinner, Oshiya, university, Spanish

3
Wat Arun, MBK mall, $13 beer, most epensive beer ever, pay for the view, Sky Bar, cashews, Luke, Wales, Dan, Scotland, Sarah, Chris, Pasha, Philipp, Germany, bar-hopping, Silom, suggestion

4
train station (intended to buy ticket to Chiang Mai, instead bought ticket to Koh Samui), Sukhumvit; failed sushi, failed pizza, street food, movie night, Siam Paragon, Transcendence

5
Chatuchak weekend market, rambutans, shopping, shorts, scarf, bloom, expansive, hot, KFC, train, Surat Thani, Lonely Planet, seats, fan, no AC

6
bus, ferry, Charlie, England, backpacker, jeep, Koh Samui, 20-hour journey, pool, sunset

7
motorbikes, accelerate, traffic, waterfalls, hiking, beach time, finally, sunset, Felix, Germany, Melissa, England, restless, midnight swim, coral, blood, hole in foot, pain, cleanse, pain

getting ready for sunset

8
pain, painkillers, Jessica, Quebec, nurse, advice, hospital, stitches, embarrassed, free coffee at least, grateful, hopping, defeated, dealing with change

9
goodbye, forced rest, forced relaxation, frustration, blessed, messages, around the world, English girls, card games, Uno

10
medical follow-up, hospital, taxi, ferry, bus, Nakhon Si Thammarat, plane, sunset, wow, Bangkok, realizations

11
walking, shopping, Silom, self-pity, new eyeglasses, 7-11 beer, Dan, outside Le Meridien, endless conversation

12
another follow-up, hospital, need to go somewhere, ferry, heat, sun, contemplation, Chao Phraya River, fortress, canal, water monitors

13
day trip, Ayutthaya, Dan, Sharon, US, tuk tuk, temples, more temples, fluctuation, Thai face = free admission, birthday beers, 25 for the 4th time

14
decision day, stay in Thailand, flight (to Chiang Rai booked 5 hours before departure), at airport (with 2 flights to my name, still wondering which one to check into), takeoff, mountains, landing

15
bicycle, iced coffee, caves, temples, more temples, noodle soup, sweat, bike on highway to another temple?, no, thank you

16
day trip, Mae Sai, border town, hike up hill, construction zone, Myanmar (seen from across a river, slightly lamenting that I didn’t make it there yet)

17
bus, Chiang Mai, tuk tuk, confusion, bicycle, temples, more temples, computer time

18
bicycle, hospital, stitches, removal, Philipp, catch up, biking, temples, more temples, Ping River, iced cappuccino, rest, good company, sunset, night market, kebab, rotee, shopping

19
motorbike, Doi Suthep, temple on mountain, corn, gasoline (bought in used glass bottle at the local market, which I had filled the tank of the motorbike with), palace, not paying, Hmong village, waterfall, mutant butterfly, attack of the flies, spicy fried noodles, muay Thai, Zoe’s, drinking, dancing

20
morning walk, espresso, Jessica, Hong Kong, Felipe, Brazil, Philipp, brunch, support, lunch, failed massage, night market, saffron shirt, fried chicken, walking pharmacy

21
pancake, goodbye Chiang Mai, crazy pick up, minibus, curves, Pai, taxi, resort, trees, bugs, dinner, curry, drinks

22
motorbike, Pai Canyon, hike, flip flops, extreme, climbing, dirty, dusty, beautiful, mountains, panorama, bridge, scarecrow, waterfall, cool down, coconut cheesecake, relax by pool, rain, more rain, rainy season rain, dinner at resort, invite by staff, fried fish, herbs, shellfish, rum, awkward (We were hanging out at the common lounge area of the hotel, relaxing before intending to head into town for dinner. It started to rain, then it started to pour, and it didn’t stop. The staff were about to have dinner and they warmly invited us to join in. It was a delicious if not slightly awkward affair).

23
hunt for bacon, bacon, future plans, motorbike, waterfall, Chinese village, viewpoint, mountains, human-powered ferris wheel, letdown, hammock, fell off, sunset, mojitos, English couple, beer, more beer, rotee, late night snack, resort, leaves, peanuts, herbs, fresh

24
bacon, motorbike, 4 hours, Pai, Chiang Mai, sore muscles, straciatella ice cream, Mr. Kai, tom yam soup, Loco Elvis, live music, coup, curfew, garden bar, stay until closing time, cookies (couldn’t open pack)

25
women’s prison massage, twist, stretch, crack, cafe, lazy lunch, peanut butter banana smoothie, chess, lost (but close), train, rice wine and salmon chips = dinner, sleeper seats, AC, summer plans

26
arrival, Ayutthaya, sunrise, motorbike, temples, deserted, ruins, exploration, only ones, feeling of discovery, bats, snake, more temples, local market, pigs’ heads, KFC, more temples, hiking up temples, train, Bangkok, 7-11 beers, lazy night

27
spring rolls, movie day, X-Men, donuts, sneaking in, taxi, Khao San, scorpions, dragon fruit, maggots, grasshoppers, beer, coming to an end, shared understanding, beer, pushing curfew, sleep

28
malls, AC, tako katsu, shopping, impulse shopping, reunions, fitting, coming to an end, again, goodbye, impulse shopping

29
writing, blogging, …Myanmar!

One step at a time

Posted on May 15, 2014 by otroviajero

One step at a time. A simple phrase, but one which takes on greater meaning when you’re somewhere on an 800-km trek from the Pyrenees to Galicia, Spain. One step at a time. That’s the only way you can accomplish such a challenging journey, to keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter what weather conditions you face and whatever physical or emotional baggage is weighing you down. One step at a time. This is one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned.

between Hontanas to Boadilla del Camino

One year ago today, I began this pilgrimage from St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela. I take a look back and memories flash through my mind, some like blinding lightning, others like a slow-motion replay of a sports highlight. Many memories will forever remain vivid, while I guiltily acknowledge that some are already fading, and might disappear with the passage of more time…

But I will remember to take life one step at a time. And with each step, attempt to recognize what makes life so mysterious yet gratifying, be appreciative of every breath, every foot forward, every person that shares my journey, and every person that almost inexplicably appears with an almost inexplicable precision when I need a reprieve from my solitude.

The Camino also taught me that the path – my camino – that I walk must be my own. I must walk at my own pace, not be afraid to take alternate routes, and always listen to my body, mind, and soul. I can’t live for the wishes and expectations of others and place their dreams in front of mine, no matter how good-intentioned they may be. I know it sounds incredibly selfish, but that path won’t create happiness and ultimately the person who ends up hurt is myself.

I believe I am still on a pilgrimage and that I continue to walk my camino. In fact, it’s an often arduous journey and the road looks like it never ends. But I can say that if there’s a destination, I’m closer to getting there today because of my experiences last year.

Tribute to my trekking boots, tribute to Nepal

Posted on April 9, 2014 by otroviajero

Three nights ago, walking down the streets of Thamel in Kathmandu, I made one of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make during my travels. After much deliberation, I decided to leave behind my trekking boots in Nepal. It’s something that I didn’t do lightly – these shoes had tremendous practical value for me as a hiker, and even more sentimental value – they’d taken me 800 km across Spain; I’d climbed 4 volcanoes in Nicaragua with them; I’d gone hiking in the Alps, the Caucasus, and the Himalayas with them sheltering my feet and guiding me through shaky and solid ground. I’d climbed more mountains than I can count with these buddies. But after almost a year of wearing them so often, the traction had really faded, they were no longer really waterproof, and they just looked really beat up. On a couple other practical notes, they would have taken a lot of space in my backpack and I wasn’t intent on wearing them through humid Southeast Asia in the months ahead every time I’d be moving from place to place. And so I left them at the hostel. Incidentally, I met a Thai girl during my last days in Kathmandu who intended on trekking to Annapurna Base Camp and needed a pair of boots, and (strangely enough) mine looked like a good fit for her. So it looks like my boots will continue to go hiking in Nepal 🙂

I feel like these boots were, and still are, a part of me and that they belong on my feet, or at least in my backpack, and that I left a piece of myself behind in Nepal (and you don’t have to tell me how silly that sounds – I know). At the same time, perhaps there’s a nice symbolism behind it. I’m sacrificing a part of myself as a traveller and a trekker. It’s like I’m paying homage or tribute to Nepal by leaving something so important to me behind, and it’s like a part of me is still in Nepal. I think it’s a nice sentiment because I really didn’t want to leave last night on the flight for Hong Kong, and right now I wish I was back in crazy Kathmandu, relaxing Pokhara, or hiking in the Annapurna Conservation Area. For reasons that I can’t fully explain in this post, Nepal has given me so much love, peace, strength, courage, determination, friendship, warmth, generosity, hospitality…the list goes on.

Kathmandu street scene

Nepal left such a wonderful impression on me. In fact, of all the places I’ve been on my travels, I can say that Nepal is the place I’ve been touched the most. I don’t even know where to begin and don’t think I can adequately describe the simultaneous joy that fills my heart when I recall all my experiences the past month, and the melancholy I feel because I’m no longer there. After visiting Sri Lanka, I told other travellers that I felt like royalty, being the object of so much attention and stares, and the recipient of so much generosity and hospitality. In Nepal, I blended in so much that Nepalis often thought I was a fellow countryman, but I received just as much hospitality and affection. People treated me as a friend and even like family. Despite the blackouts, frequent lack of water (hot and cold), the crippling traffic, the bumpy bus rides, the suffocating smog of the cities, the blowing dust…I often felt truly at home.

Machhapuchchhre‎, Annapurna Conservation Area

Just a few examples from yesterday alone: I was passing by a shop that I’d bought a jacket from earlier in the week, and waved at the shopkeepers. They returned the greeting and invited me to take a break and chat for awhile, and we talked for what might have been close to half an hour about life in Canada, life in Nepal, and the different people we’ve come in contact with. There was no pressure to buy anything else from their shop and they were quite impressed when I listed the countries I’d been to the last six years! Later on, I met up with some friends I’d met at the hostel and their Nepali friends, and we walked to Basantapur to watch the festivities of Ram Navami. They were so welcoming and hospitable, recounting some of the history of the exquisite temples that formed part of the Durbar Square complex. They were interested in my travels as well and wanted to know what I liked about Nepal the most. And when I was back at the hostel, ready to go the airport, the staff asked me if I had a taxi yet and when I said that I didn’t, fetched a taxi from the main street to the front door of the hostel, and negotiated a fair price. These are reasons reflective of why since my first day in Nepal, I knew that I’d make a return visit. That sentiment is even more true today. I’m so grateful that I made plans to come to this amazing country renowned worldwide for the Himalayas but for me, is distinguished by the unmatched warmth of its people.

So there’s my tribute to Nepal. And now, I’d like to take this time to pay tribute to these awesome pair of shoes. With fondness, I remember the mountains I’ve ascended, the trails I’ve gotten lost in, the cities I’ve navigated, and all the animal excrements that I’ve stepped on in them – be it from cows, horses, chickens, dogs, sheep, goats, yaks…With a sad resignation, I let go…

trekking boots – goodbye 😦

The most important thing I’ve learned

Posted on April 1, 2014 by otroviajero

As a traveller, the most significant thing I get annoyed at is seeing how many tourists behave with an air of superiority and treat locals condescendingly and with disdain. Perhaps they think that because they come from somewhere more “advanced,” more “developed,” or more “modern,” they have the right to look down on people from other cultures which are, in their eyes, less advanced, less developed, and less modern. I’ve seen people flaunt how much money they have and think that their monetary wealth should command them better treatment. It’s very off-putting to witness this.

Similarly, I find it baffling when tourists just want to get to a famous site or partake in the “must-do” thing without regard for interacting with the local population. Why travel such a long way and not take any interest in the people of the country you’re visiting?

You know, we’re over 7 billion people living in this world and sharing its beauty, and we tend to focus on our differences. Everything from religion, language, nationality, ethnicity, sex, sexual orientation, skin colour, facial structure, educational level, occupation, income level, ways of life, cultural practices, societal norms – the list goes on endlessly – all these have been used to create division and prevent meaningful relationships between us from being formed.

I’ve travelled to 42 countries the past few years, mostly on my own, and the most profound memories I have are the truly wonderful interactions I’ve had with people from all walks of life. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that when I look into the eyes of another human being, despite all the (perceived) factors that may create distance between us, there is a common, undeniable bond in our humanity – and that’s reason enough to treat the other person with dignity and respect. I keep in mind that I’m looking into a pair of eyes of a fellow human, whose heart beats with just as much strength and passion as mine, a fellow human being who also loves, hopes, dreams, fears, doubts, wonders…

I’ve been the recipient of dignity and respect countless instances in my travels. I’ve been afforded immense hospitality and generosity from people of all religions and skin colours, people who spoke languages I did not understand, people who wore designer clothes and people who wore rags, people with PhDs and people who have likely never set foot in a classroom, perfectly healthy people and people who have likely never received any health care, people who live in grand mansions and people who live in modest shacks.

I’ve spoken to a 91-year old woman in Nicaragua who lived on her own in a shack at the base of a volcano. I was offered multiple helpings of sliced fruit from an elderly woman on a train in Taiwan. I was given very exact directions to the airport by a nearly toothless man standing in front of the bus I’d be taking in Sri Lanka. I had a taxi driver in Georgia take me to a secluded monastery and proceeded to give me a full tour of the complex – in Russian! I was received with an encouraging welcome by a fellow hiker when I reached the top of one of the Alps in Austria after hiking up with a GI infection. I’ve been the object of many photographs taken in Armenia. I’ve been lost more times than I can count and have found my way, usually because a local took it upon himself or herself to help this foreigner out. Most recently, on my 9-day trek to the Annapurna Sanctuary, I was befriended by more than a handful of porters that took an interest in me when they saw I was trekking alone.

It’s astounding how much love and goodwill there is in our world when you take a chance and open up. Don’t let our perceived differences unknowingly create a self-imposed barrier and prevent you from interacting with some great people in this world. You might even end up counting some of these people as your friends.

Irreplicable feeling

Posted on January 31, 2014 by otroviajero

After a shuttle bus, two flights interrupted by a six-hour layover and a double espresso, a tricycle ride, a non-airconditioned bus, and another tricycle ride, and thanks to co-conspirators – my mom, Tita Cheryl, and Ate Rose, I arrived in my Lolo and Lola’s hometown in Cuartero, Capiz (Panay Island, Visayas) in the Philippines on Tuesday afternoon and surprised my grandparents with my unexpected visit at their front door! (They thought I was in Japan and had no clue that I’d be there – my Lolo took a bit of time figuring out it was me!)

Passing through the provincial highway from the city, evidence of Typhoon Yolanda’s destruction back in November is very much apparent. The floods have long subsided but there remains downed power lines, fallen trees, rubble dotting the side of the road, homes made of bamboo and wood that have gone through various degrees of devastation. Reconstruction is under way. Amidst all this – smiles and laughter, compassion and generosity, strength and a resolve to keep going, resilience of the human spirit.

And still, I can honestly say that I don’t remember seeing my land this green and this beautiful when I left it last. I’ve been to 40 countries the past 5 years, but it was a truly unique and special feeling stepping onto the tarmac in Manila’s airport, and later in Roxas, after almost 5 years of absence. This is the land that brought up my family, gave me so much of my culture and my traditions, so much of what I value and cherish. And although no place in the world is perfect and I appreciate being able to see life from different perspectives having grown up in Canada and travelling so much, there will always be this special feeling coming back here that can’t be replicated by setting foot in another country.

Today, I celebrate my Lolo’s 84th birthday with lots of good food and even better company. He’s so much of the reason I have so much love and respect for my homeland. If I live long enough to be his age, I can only hope to have half of his virtue…

Land of the rising sun, land of contradictions

Posted on January 25, 2014 by otroviajero

I’ve often been to places and have thought to myself that what I’m seeing is so contradictory and perplexing, but after my time in Japan I think I’m willing to say that nowhere have I set foot in this world that this contradiction is so strikingly apparent. And this is precisely what I have loved about my time here. Every interaction and experience piques my curiosity and has me attempting to rationalize why things are they way they are, at least to eyes that were raised in the Western world. All at once, at least on the surface, Japan is modern and traditional, familiar and foreign, logical and incomprehensible, orderly and chaotic, flashy and subtle, flamboyant and reserved, friendly and distant, superficial and inward.

modern and traditional Tokyo

I can’t wait until I get back to Osaka in February and continue, likely without much success, to figure it all out…

The lowdown

Posted on January 16, 2014 by otroviajero

One of my resolutions for the New Year was to blog more often, and write even more. I’ve been doing quick, usually daily Facebook posts but as you can see, nothing on this site yet this year. Until now. For me, I’ll take this as a big challenge to recount a bit of where I am, where I’m going, and where I’ve been; what I’ve felt and what’s lifted my spirits; the not-so-glamorous things about travel, especially solo travel, and especially long-term solo travel; and really most profoundly, why I continue to travel and my reasons and motivations behind it.

Many have asked me about this trip, so let me just lay down the essentials in this post:

Who: Me! And the friends and family I’m meeting up with. And the people with whom I’ve yet to interact that will leave a lasting impact on me, and some that I’ll come to call as friends.

What: A trip around the world! In paper at least, I’ve left North America for the Pacific Rim of Asia, and will be making my way to points in South and Southeast Asia before making my way to Europe and arriving back in North America.

Where: Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, Singapore, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Nepal for sure. Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar, Hong Kong in semi-planning stages. In Europe, I’m supposed to land in Romania, but have also set my sights on Bulgaria, Greece, Albania, Kosovo, Moldova, Ukraine, the Netherlands, Ireland, Spain, and Italy. At this point, the European leg of this journey is quite undefined and will be content to focus on just a few of these countries.

When: From the second week of January currently until the first week of October, 2014! That’ll be almost 9 months of travelling! In reality, that’s just the dates on my airfare that I’m somewhat willing to change, really depending on money and future motivation.

How: Planes, trains, buses, walking, ???

Why: Before setting out last May for Europe, I’d gone through a tough time of challenges, internal debates, and difficult decisions that were tempered with occasional personal triumphs and achievements. At the time, I was working full-time without a high prospect of longer-term travel which was what I had increasingly aspired to in the years prior. Simply put, travel invigorates and inspires me like nothing else. It’s the unbeatable combination of being in a foreign land, not knowing exactly where you are or how to get where you’re going but with a resigned confidence that all will work out in the end, interacting with people in this world that you would otherwise not meet in your daily routine back home, arriving at spectacular landscapes, feeling serenity during a hike, going somewhere you’ve never heard of and being amidst indescribable beauty, and the unique realization that not everything in this world is generic and you don’t have to live your life within the perceived confines of societal norms if you don’t want to.

So there you have it. Or some of it, at least! I’m currently in Japan, on just the 8th day of my journey. Follow me, or better yet, join me somewhere!

Journey to Ometepe

Posted on November 30, 2013 by otroviajero

I’m a firm believer that the journey to a destination should be approached with as much importance and regard as the destination itself. There’s so much excitement, so much to absorb, so much to take away from getting yourself from Point A to Point B (often via Point C and Point D, depending on your luck). I’ve read that Ometepe Island should be part of any traveller’s itinerary to Nicaragua. And now, after having visited, I can confirm this statement’s validity, but as this is beyond the scope of this blog post, I won’t explain why at this moment…

After spending four nights in Granada, I checked myself out of my hostel and the uber-comfortable double bed that had been my crash pad in the dorm, and walked to the bus terminal, passing through the bustling shops and markets that spilled onto the road. I had walked this same road two days earlier to catch a chicken bus to Mombacho, but its familiarity did not temper the noise, odours, and peculiarities I had noticed the first time around. This was my first time taking a chicken bus alone; I’d taken them to and from Granada the past couple days with friends, so I found myself more alert travelling by myself. I felt that the bus was packed much more than on previous occasions, and it was interesting and entertaining just watching all the different vendors selling everything from food to pens that doubled as two-year calendars…

Upon arriving at the bus terminal in Rivas, I tried to pair up with others who were going to Ometepe in order to share a taxi. It was all in vain because unfortunately, everyone was either already part of a big group or had already gotten in a taxi, leaving me with taxi drivers offering very inflated prices to get to the port in San Jorge. I ended up speaking with a rickshaw driver who said that he’d take me to some taxis further away from the terminal, who would offer lower prices. I figured, “Why not?” and got in, and enjoyed the ride a couple streets over, pretending I was a celebrity being the recipient of numerous stares while on the road.

The rickshaw driver pulled over not far away from the terminal, and started telling the taxi drivers that I wanted to get to San Jorge. They were offering the same inflated prices as those at the terminal, but I was able to bargain it down a little, though I still think I overpaid by a dollar or two. At any rate, I got in a taxi for the ~7km ride to the port, happy that my journey was finally progressing…

Continue reading →

The 91 year old woman

Posted on November 30, 2013 by otroviajero

I climbed a volcano, admired some fantastic views of Granada, Lake Nicaragua, and Las Isletas (through which we had taken a boat tour the day before), caught a glimpse of a volcano crater, rode in a chicken bus twice, rode in a tuk tuk twice (and simultaneously was in amazement that I wasn’t in India!), had an amazing dinner, and all with the enjoyable company of Derek from Ireland, Bernard from Holland, and Gui from Brazil. And none of these was the highlight of my day. Undoubtedly and unequivocally, my encounter with the 91-year old woman is what I’ll remember most about day 5 of my Nicaraguan trip.

We were well on our descent down Mombacho volcano, walking down the road built for trucks to transport tourists up to the Biological Station (the base for which you can explore the top of the volcano through guided or self-guided hikes of varying lengths), when Bernard and I were stopped by this old woman at the entrance to her property. I’m writing this over two weeks after this happened and I can’t describe the physical setting too well, only that it was typical of rural Nicaragua – her home was a modest shack comprised of concrete and sheet metal, surrounded by dusty brown dirt and the lush shades of green effortlessly produced in the Tropics. This woman looked like she had been standing there awhile, and was eager to greet us and I’d say even a bit desperate to stop us for a few minutes of light conversation. I may no longer be able to recall my surroundings there very well, but I can certainly remember her tan, wrinkled face framed by her silver hair, the contradictory excitement and sadness in her eyes, and her smile simultaneously expressing gratitude and melancholy.

Above all, I remember her words. She fervently told us her age, and I had trouble believing that she was older than 60. She described to us how she used to work up at the Biological Station up until a few years ago, but one day they told her that she was too old and that she basically stayed home since then. With sorrow, she expressed how it was almost a curse that God allowed her to be so old, because she lived in this lonely, solitary environment without her children and grandchildren (although one of her grandsons was visiting her that day), and life was tough being alone and unable to work. And then she brought her hands together and praised God, thanking Him for the blessing of our company this day. She claimed that meeting us and talking with us was the highlight of her day, and I believed her. The sincerity in her eyes and the honesty in her voice were only genuine.

Throughout this encounter, and certainly the further along it went, I was always a bit wary of this woman, thinking that she might want something in return for sharing her very personal stories. Some money, some food – that’s typical of what people usually asked for, right? It turned out, she had wanted nothing more from us that what we gave her – a few minutes of our time to enliven her day and break the seemingly endless monotony that dominated her life. It really was just a few minutes of conversation with this lady, and then we said goodbye and continued our walk down the volcano. But this encounter had me feeling guilty and ashamed for thinking the worse in a fellow human being. How jaded, untrusting, and skeptical had I become? Thankfully, my actions didn’t reflect my thoughts, but indeed, this meeting gave me a lot to think about.

This 91-year old woman was the highlight of my day. Perhaps what I love most about travel are these strange, unforseeable encounters and surprises that you can never imagine taking place, but which unquestionably end up having a lasting impact on you…

Lagoon quest on a bike with a Dutchman

Posted on November 22, 2013 by otroviajero

Any solo traveller will tell you that one of the best things about travelling on your own is meeting and befriending other travellers (many of whom are also going it solo) and ending up doing a lot of fun, amazing things together. Or something like that.

I had been introduced to Bernard from the Netherlands a few days earlier at the hostel in Granada by an Irishman named Derek, and as we were both staying another night in the city, he invited me to do that typical Dutch activity of bike riding. There’s a place called Laguna de Apoyo, a crater lake outside of Granada that reputedly has Nicaragua’s cleanest water for swimming. “Sure,” I thought, “Sounds like fun plus it’d be good exercise”. Turns out, I got too much of a bargain…

We rented bikes from the hostel and after a short ride around the city getting acquainted with our rides, we made our first stop at a supermarket for a humble breakfast of bananas (an unbeatable value at 1 cordoba or $0.04 apiece), drinkable yogurt, and coconut cookies. The sun already began to bake us outside the store where we indulged in our meal. We then stopped at the old railway station and took a few pictures before edging our way to the outskirts of the city where we rode along the side of the highway. And here, it began to get really hot. Just in case you didn’t know, asphalt + sun + temperature of 30 degrees Celsius + humidity + bike riding = a desperately terrifying amount of sweat. To the point where your light blue shirt turns navy. To the point where you can fool someone into thinking that your sweat made this lagoon we were making our way to. We asked for directions from locals on the side of the road or those cycling just like us, and each time we got different responses to how close we were. As we were intent on just getting there, we kept going. Luckily, there was a roadside tienda selling ice cold gaseosas and we enjoyed a sugary orange soft drink with the company of the friendly shop vendor who pulled out chairs for us and kept us company in the shade of her family’s modest home, telling us how beautiful the lagoon is, and lamenting how her boyfriend who studies English wasn’t here to practice his language skills with us! This place was an oasis, a world away from the highway just steps away!

From here, we were a couple Ks away from the road which joins the lagoon with the highway. That was the good news. The bad news was that it was mostly uphill. But we kept pressing on, sometimes without enough energy to cycle, instead getting on our feet and pushing our bikes uphill. We passed a massive commercial chicken farm, enjoyed another break with ice cream, popsicles, and Pepsi, were objects of curiosity and fascination by passing schoolgirls… Ever closer, the last stretch was the easiest part and a welcome reprieve from our bike riding so far – a winding downhill ride in the shade where we could catch beautiful glimpses of the lagoon, and later into the entrance to the lagoon itself. We chose the closest access to the water by a lakeside restaurant, ordered some beer and some light snacks much to the dismay of the waitress who couldn’t sell something more pricey, and passed out a little bit from the fatigue of two and a half (or perhaps closer to three?) hours of bike riding to get to this point. It was a lazy afternoon of lounging by the lagoon, swimming in its almost too warm waters, admiring the hardly touched countryside, and having conversations with a new friend.

glimpse of lagoon

well-earned beer

picturesque lagoon

Alas, we resigned ourselves to the fact that we had to leave to make the arduous trip back to Granada. We walked with the bikes uphill for forty-five minutes, unable to find a suitable vehicle to hitch a ride. At the top of the hill, though, it was a fast and exhilarating ride down, and once at the side of the highway again, we waited not half a minute until a chicken bus pulled over and we eagerly got in, bikes and all, marvelling at the perfect timing of it all. Back in Granada and off the bus, it immediately started to rain heavily (it is still rainy season here, after all, and a strong downpour in the afternoon is obligatory). But what’s a little rain after all that exercise? It was even more refreshing than swimming in the lake, and possibly the funnest part of the day to bike through the streets of Granada, competing with cars, buses, taxis, and horses for control of the streets, navigating our way back to the hostel to end this great journey!

So, all in all, I’ll remember this day for many reasons and had an excellent time. Riding a bike in the city, down the highway, and especially through the rural countryside of Nicaragua was special, an opportunity to see life up close and personal for a bit, without the filter of shaded windows. But the physical exertion in this climate can’t be underestimated! So, the next time a crazy Dutch guy (or anyone from any nationality, really) invites me to go cycling in a tropical country, someone remind me of today so I’ll think twice about it!

Patrick and the World

soñar, viajar, aprender, vivir || dream, travel, learn, live

Tag Archives: travel