Flashback Series: Journey From the Center of the Earth

In the time between leaving Rio and starting to volunteer in Costa Rica, I had three little mini trips to get from A to B. First, I flew back to Ecuador with Cecilia and we spent one last day together at the Equator, then I flew to Costa Rica and spent a few days on my own in Heredia, and last, I was spoiled with my family on vacation in Dominical. I went from friend travel to solo travel to family travel – quite the transitioning, but each experience just added to the variety of ways I was learning to enjoy exploring new places. 

QUITO

First, I had to say goodbye to my beloved travel companion Cecilia. After having one last airport sleepover (thank you cheap flights), we had a flight back to Quito, and got ourselves into the city center without a problem. We had booked an excellent hostel recommended to us by a girl in Rio, which was coincidentally right by the street where Kate’s iPhone had been stolen just a month earlier. But instead of revisiting our favorite places in Quito for our last day together, we had one final destination in mind: the center of the Earth.

High five for a trip well done, from both the Northern and Southern Hemisphere. 

Well, at least we can say we've been there,
even if it's not real.

I guess it was technically only the center of the Earth’s surface, but it’s still kind of true. Ecuador, which means Equator in Spanish, is situated directly on top of the Equator, but because of the high altitude of the Andes Mountains the air isn't boiling hot like most equatorial climates. The trip was only 40 minutes north of Quito by bus (we paid about 45 cents total) to reach the monument. There is a large monument with direction markers each way at the “Mitad del Mundo” (Half the World) complex, which includes tons of tourist shops, cafes, and a little central square. But of course the most important reason to visit the monument was to get a picture with one foot in the Northern Hemisphere and one foot on the Southern Hemisphere.

Hopefully none of the tourists who have that picture on their mantle read this, because the irony is that the Mitad del Mundo monument was built before GPS and modern technology…and it’s not on the true Equator. It’s close, but not quite exact. Luckily we were clued into this fact long before we started our trip, so as soon as we arrived at the monument, we followed the directions and walked around the park. After about ten minutes, we found the sign we were looking for then turned up a small little dirt road to the exact GPS positioned Equator, with a small, pretty little outdoor museum surrounding it. 

The Equator Museum was really interesting, with an admission ticket that included a guide through the museum about the native Ecuadorians (before the Inca, then Spanish conquerors) and their way of life. After the tour the guides demonstrated a series of tricks (some dispute whether they’re real or not but I believed it) that can only be performed on the equator, due to the center of gravity. What sort of ‘tricks?’ I was able to balance a raw egg on the head of a nail, with one foot on either side of the Equator, when a tub of water is drained the water doesn’t swirl one way or the other, it just falls straight down on the Equator, and when you walk in a straight line on the Equator, heel to toe, with your arms straight out to the side, it’s extremely difficult to do when you close your eyes and throw off your center of balance. It was really neat to experience and a great way to end our last day together in South America. 

That evening Ceci and I had a nice dinner and talked about how much we would miss each other. It’s really lucky to find not only a good friend in life, but a good friend who you can travel with: a true test of friendship. We had met on a very random encounter in Vietnam last October, and then five months later there we were, traveling together for over a month. We had done everything we wanted to do and more, and had tons of fun doing it together.  Luckily, we knew we weren’t saying goodbye forever. She was returning to Denver the day after I left, and we're hoping to see each other there before I take off for Russia this fall. 

The next morning I woke up early, said goodbye to Ceci (I prefer to use the Band Aid technique when it comes to goodbyes – fast and painful for just a short time), and started my two hour journey to the airport via three different buses. I was on my own again, for the first time in weeks. I said goodbye to Quito, the “long, skinny city,” and hoped I would be back someday. But now I had a new country to look forward to, a place that I would be able to see a lot of and spend about six weeks in.

HEREDIA

Heredia in Costa Rica's Central Valley. 

I landed in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, later that afternoon, and waited for my hostel pickup. San Jose doesn’t have the best reputation as far as things to see or do, so based on advice from a few different people I chose to spend three days in Heredia, a very cute little town just north of San Jose. It was also close to the place my uncle was working, so I was hoping to meet up with him if he was free in the evening after work, until the rest of the family arrived to join us at the end of the week. 

My first impression of Costa Rica was that it had become completely Americanized. I had just spent time in some of South America’s major cities and in none of them did I see the amount of American fast food chains in one concentration that I did in Heredia. On one street I counted a McDonald’s, a Quiznos, Burger King, Papa Johns, Taco Bell – the list actually goes on, all within a block of each other. And there were even more within the town center. However, beyond fast food the rest of the town was pretty typical for Costa Rica, with small little shops for clothing, groceries, stationary, and local restaurants, all along the streets.

Central Heredia.

Heredia was a lovely little town and a great introduction to Costa Rica. It was a very gridlined, square patterned area, with low rolling volcanic hills surrounding the Central Valley (you can kind of see the hills beyond the town in the above picture.) The central park had a beautiful cathedral with benches and a children’s park. I was lucky enough to be in the plaza during a school band performance, which I watched as the sun was setting in the perfect, mild yet tropical temperature. It was fun to watch the parents with their children, the families, and the teachers with their students – I realized how much I missed teaching and being around kids. That night I was treated to a wonderful Japanese dinner by my uncle and some of his work friends. It was great to see him again and learn a little more about what his company does in Costa Rica, a place he travels to frequently for work.  

The next day I spoiled myself since I had permission to check into the DoubleTree hotel early - I gave myself the full treatment and ate my free chocolate chip cookie, laid out by the pool, had a swim, showered (hot shower - even bigger bonus), and had coffee in the lobby while waiting for my family to arrive. I even made friends with the coffee shop guy, who decided to educate me on the weather patterns of Costa Rica. I learned that the Central Valley (San Jose area) was one of the best places in the world for coffee cultivating, due to the rich soil and cool conditions. He also gave me a map and taught me about all of Costa Rica's volcanos. It was a very educational waiting time, which was good because I was so anxious to see my grandparents for the first time in almost three years. And then - there they were. My aunt, uncle, and cousins showed up shortly after, and we all settled ourselves in and did some catching up that afternoon and evening at a nice dinner close to the hotel. Us girls even had a chance to test out the hot tub that evening before getting ourselves ready for the next day. 

Cousins reunion - ready for a week of fun.

DOMINICAL

Our sunset view from the house

New home for the week!

The next morning we were up bright and early to pack up the SUV and head to the coast. We had a house rented in Dominical, a little beach town in the south, along the Pacific Coast. The house, though high up in the hills and at the end of a long, windy, and bumpy road (we decided we would only leave the house once a day to minimize the time spent driving on this crazy road), was stunning, with a beautiful view of the tropics and the Pacific Ocean below.  We all settled ourselves in and planned out our week a little bit, which worked out to about one activity a day. However, we made sure to include time to relax at the house, because how could you not enjoy your time with an infinity pool and a view like that?

We tested out three or four different beaches along the coast throughout the week, each about a 10-15 minute drive once we reached the main highway. All of them were great, but we found some favorites and had fun playing in the waves, taking pictures, and exploring the area at each one. To me, Costa Rica’s coast was a lot more rugged and untouched – not as pristine as some of the beaches I’d seen, but more natural and less built up. It was a nice change from the packed beaches in Rio, and nice that the beaches weren’t completely full of tourists. Some of our other activities included hiking in a nature reserve park, ziplining (special shout-out to both of my grandparents for zipling for the first time in their lives), swimming in a waterfall pool, and horseback riding (I didn’t partake, but the girls had fun.)

The ziplining champs!

With new friends Ricky and Mickey.

After starting our mornings with fresh tropical fruit and coffee, we were spoiled every day with fantastic lunches and dinners – I had really missed my grandmother’s cooking. We used the grill nearly every night and even had a nice dinner out at a restaurant on the sea. We were joined here and there by a couple who had vacationed with my aunt and uncle in Costa Rica a couple of times in the past. They were a wonderful addition to our little group, and joined us on a few of our activities. They even braved the drive up to the house to come visit us when their plans for the day fell through.  

Road to our house. 

When we weren't out adventuring, we took advantage of our time at the house by visiting the local horses who lived down the road, swimming in the pool, entertaining the neighbor's dogs who often came to visit us, encountering giant bugs and frogs, and just relaxing and admiring the view. On the day I stayed back with my grandparents I did nothing but suntan and read. In other words, it was the perfect vacation.

Lunch with the family.

But aside from all of the activities, the fantastic weather, and the wonderful food, my absolute favorite part of our time in Dominical was spending time with my family. My choice to spend so much time away from Minnesota meant that I had missed out on trips to the lake and family holidays, so the week we had together was so important to me. I was able to spend time with my grandparents, both still in excellent health (something I realized I had taken for granted until I learned that not everyone’s grandparents were like mine), I was able to catch up with my uncle and aunt, whose liveliness and enthusiasm kept us all energized, and I was able to have fun with my cousins and admire what lovely girls they were growing into. That was what I came to Dominical for, and everything else we did was a bonus - the most important part was that we were all together. 

Goodnight Pacific Ocean.

But of course, good things always have to come to an end, but at least we had made some great memories to hold onto. We all said goodbye at the end of our fabulous week together, and were already looking forward to the next time we'd see each other, hopefully this summer up at my grandparents' cabin. But before I could start thinking about the summer, I had a new adventure waiting for me about six hours from Dominical. Next up was my month of volunteering in Sarapiqui - it was finally time to put my Spanish to the test and embrace a new learning experience. 

Flashback Series: At the Copa...cabana.

Can you guess where I’ll be talking about now? No, I didn’t make friends with Barry Manilow, and no, I didn’t go to the club in New York City, so that leaves Copacabana Island in Bolivia (where the name originally came from) or Copacabana Beach, in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Yes, you guessed it. My last stop on my whirlwind South American tour with Ceci was Rio, known as “The Marvelous City.” 

We reached Rio after perhaps the quickest stop at Iguazu Falls in history. It wasn’t intended to be the quickest stop in history, nor will it ever be done again - we have no desire to beat our record. It’s actually quite shameful, but we did what had to be done. Iguazu Falls is one of the largest waterfalls in the world, bordering both Argentina and Brazil. This makes it an excellent destination for travelers like us, who wanted to reach Brazil overland from Argentina. I've wanted to do the overland trip ever since I started planning itineraries in South America. However, first we had to get a Brazilian visa. And let me tell you, visa people are not to be messed with. They know they have the power to make or break your itinerary, and if they don’t want to speed up their process (really, how long does it take to slap a sticker in a passport?) they will have no problem telling you no. This is what we were terrified of, yet it was a risk we knowingly took when we stayed in Buenos Aires another day. 

We couldn’t get the visa in BA, so we decided to take our chances and get them at the Brazilian Embassy in the Argentinian border town, a process which we had read extensively about on travel websites. They said it can be done, and the Internet is always reliable, right? To make it even more fun, our entire weekend was at stake, as we were hoping to get it all processed Friday morning, before the consulate closed in the afternoon. If we were too late, if something went wrong, or if we didn’t make it back in time to pick up our passports after visiting the Falls in between, we’d be stuck there until Monday morning.

Our next mistake was that we ended up miscalculating how long the trip to the Falls would actually take from the border town (“No you Americans, you can’t just waltz down the street and admire the falls. You have to take a bus, then you have to buy a ticket, then you have to take a train.”) Oops.  This resulted in us dropping off our passports and paperwork at the consulate, running (yes, running) to catch the first bus to the Falls, then getting to the park and realizing we didn’t know exactly what time the consulate closed because we had forgotten to look. Head smack. Then, we had to wait in line for the train, and once we rode the train we stopped too early, had to get out, wait in another line for another train, then once we got off that train we had to walk (run) over some walkways (runways) that spanned the river to get to the actual falls. I actually broke one of my shoes trying to keep up with Ceci who was dodging people left and right. Short people are generally pretty forgivable for dodging, tall people not so much.

Shoeless but Satisfied.

But once we got there, it was very much worth it. Here is what we got to see just before the clouds rolled in: 

Needless to say, we didn’t spend too much time at the Falls because we knew how much time it would take to do it all over again and get back, and we had to make it to the consulate before close…even though we didn’t exactly know when that was. We actually had the number and tried to use the pay phone at one of the Falls offices, but of course it was broken. Then we ran around asking people, very sweetly, of course, to use their cell phone...but pretty much everyone we asked were also tourists, therefore they didn't have working local phones. Then - can you guess? - by the time a worker selling coffee took pity on us and let us use his cell phone, the number didn't work. Our situation was actually pretty comical at this point once I look back at the entire morning in retrospect. 

By this time we figured a bus or train or something would most definitely break down, with our luck, so we really had no time to lose. Our one justification for cutting our trip short is that it was pretty cloudy and rainy, so we weren’t able to see much of the Falls as it was. But, we did take some time to admire, drop our jaws, get sprayed, and take pictures. It really is an incredible natural wonder that we hope we can return to again to really do it justice. Then, after our moments of tranquility it was run, line, train, run, bus, run…and success! The consulate was just about to close, but our visas were ready, and then after zipping down to the bus terminal, we were on our way to Brazil. Almost.

We still had to cross to the Brazilian border and catch our final bus to Rio, but to make a long story short let’s just say the the next three hours involved impatiently waiting, heavy rain, some police bribing and maniac driving, getting out of the vehicle and crossing the border in the pouring rain, more running, and finally a collapse of relief into our seats. We were on our way to Rio. You can choose to believe as much of the above story as you wish. 

So, what is Rio all about? I’ll start by saying that when Ceci and I first arrived – we weren’t huge fans. We called ourselves travel snobs. Not that it wasn’t nice and the beach wasn’t pretty, but it just wasn’t as impressive to us as Buenos Aires had been, and we felt we had built our expectations up too high. Our hostel was in the Copacabana district, a name which I’m sure most of you are familiar with. Formerly the playground of the rich and famous, Copacabana has kind of lost its glory days and fallen into more of a seedy area – we were warned up and down about walking around alone at night and never having any valuables on us. Some of the streets were a little dingy, it wasn’t that flashy, and the beachfront wasn’t the most impressive – that was our first impression. Gone were the Parisian streets and chic dressers, replaced with people walking around in flip flops and beach attire. And it was such a strange contrast to hear people speaking Portuguese instead of Spanish - I liked to describe it as "trying to speak Spanish but not quite succeeding, while throwing in a bunch of aggression and exaggerations." Kind of like German compared to English. 

Welcome to Brazil.

But as we all know, you can’t judge a book by its cover. And of course, we were in Rio. It didn't mattered whether we liked it or not, it mattered that we were there to experience it. Our first evening we met up with two friends of Ceci’s, who had been there the week before for Carnival. It was fun to hear their stories and learn more about the city, and the next day they took us to Ipanema Beach. Ipanema has now taken over the glitz and glamour of Copacabana, and it is very well deserving of the title. I thought it was one of the most stunning beaches I’d ever seen, just behind the Philippines, Thailand, and maybe Hawaii. The water was the perfect temperature and a piercing blue, the air was warm and breezy, and the people watching was fantastic. Yes, everything you’ve ever heard about Brazilian bodies is true. Toned, tanned, ripped, and all out for show in their barely there swimsuits. You almost can’t believe it until you see it. And the best part is that if you keep your sunglasses on no one really knows if you’re staring at them. 

Ipanema Beach

Sunrise over Copacabana

Copacabana Beach

We spent the next three days lying on the beach, eating new and delicious foods, having coffee, and chilling. We were staying an entire week in Rio, so we didn’t want to rush things. I went running in the mornings, we feasted on our hostel’s impressive breakfast (meat, cheese, rolls, freshly baked sweets, fruit, juice, and coffee – then we made an extra sandwich to take along for lunch), we went walking from Copacabana to Ipanema to join the hardcore beachbummers, we discovered Brazilian cheesy bread (little puffs of chewy, flavorful bread, unlike anything we’d ever tasted), and we properly and thoroughly introduced ourselves to the Caipirinha, Brazil’s national drink. It was a great vacation to end our vacation. And slowly but surely, we started to fall in love with Rio. It was a combination of the relaxed way of life, the enjoyment of the sun and the sea, the chilled atmosphere, the exuberance of the Portuguese language, and the way everybody struts their stuff, designer clothes or not. The Brazilians are said to be one of the best examples of a society that works to live, not lives to work.

Christ Redeemer 

But of course, we weren’t there forever, so we had to get our tourist on and get out to do some sightseeing by the end of the week. By then our friend Peadar from the Machu Picchu trek AND Buenos Aires (what are the chances?) had arrived in Rio, so he joined us, along with some of his hostelmates, for beach time and one of our excursions.  The must see in Rio is of course, the Christ Redeemer statue, or as we liked to say, the “Big Jesus.” To get there, we took a bus across town (we knew when to get off because that's when all the touristy looking people did), and then bought our tickets for the tram. Riding the tram uphill was really cool – very green and verdant - it reminded us of just how lush and tropical the climate and environment in Rio actually is. It was also neat to think of how many other people had ridden the same tram to see the same sight we were about to – a fun aspect of traveling to well known places. 

View from Corcovado

Stunning city.

But, a caveat of traveling to a well known destination is having to deal with all the crowds of camera toting (or iPad tapping, these days) tourists, all scrambling for the best photo opportunities. Of course, the worst part is that you want a great photo just as much as the rest of them, but you don’t want to be as obnoxious about it. So we tried to get in and get out of the main line of fire quickly so that we could enjoy the views of the city from Corcovado, the name of the peak. The Christ statue was completed in 1931 as a symbol of peace, financed mostly by Brazilian Catholics. Today it is considered one of the Seven Modern Wonders of the World and a national symbol of Brazil. We enjoyed the picture perfect day atop Corcovado, and tried to take in the 360 degree view of the city as best we could. 

Along with Christ Redeemer, we visited the Botanic Gardens, checked out some districts in the city such as Santa Teresa, Lapa, and explored more of Copacabana and Ipanema. Rio is a little difficult to navigate due to its many hills and peaks - some of our city bus rides felt more like roller coasters. It's not as easily walkable as other cities, but again, that's part of it's charm because you have beautiful views from every high point you come across. By the end of the week it was time to visit one last destination: Sugarloaf Peak. It was famous for its views of the city, and we were told it was best seen at sunset. 

So, we set out in the mid afternoon to get to the base, then we took the two cable cars up to the top of Sugarloaf. The views were incredible, and we felt like we snapped about a million pictures of the same view, though the scene seemed to change drastically with each passing minute of the setting sun. It was a good opportunity to reflect on the beauty of the city, and realize how much we had grown to love it, more and more with each passing day. Once again, you can’t judge a book by its cover, and need to take time in each new place to really appreciate it and learn more about it. 

Sunset at Sugarloaf - can you see Christ Redeemer at the top left? 

Saying goodbye.

But we weren’t quite done yet. If there’s one thing Rio is famous for, besides Christ Redeemer, it’s the nightlife. And we couldn’t leave Rio without experiencing it. The party district in Rio is Lapa, a place we had visited in the daytime and hadn’t been too impressed with. But, it wouldn’t be so famous if there wasn’t a reason, so we decided to give it a shot, with a fun group that we had gathered throughout our week there.  Once we arrived in Lapa, we couldn’t believe it was the same place. It was lit up, full of people, and lined with food and drink stalls, on the way to the bars and clubs. It was a ton of fun, and we ended at one of the coolest nightclubs I’ve ever been in, with three levels of dance rooms, complete with a live samba band and dance. The samba is the soul dance of Brazil, said to have developed from the Afro-Caribbean sugar plantation slaves who were trying to express their emotions. I thought it encompassed the spirit of Rio perfectly –alive, sensual, and vibrant. It was the perfect end to a perfect week in the Marvelous City. 

Team Ceci and Gina

We had experienced the best of everything in Rio - the best views, food, beach, relaxation, sightseeing, and fun. And last, as we prepared to say goodbye, I must mention that we stayed at the best little hostel in Copacabana. Why was our hostel the best? Because it was so good that we cried when we left. Yes, that good. Definitely not because of the rooms, or the beds, or the lack of AC (it was pretty funny to be the first one in the room to wake up in the morning and see everyone in their underwear) but absolutely because of the wonderful staff that made it great for us. They were so genuinely friendly and helpful, and we really enjoyed getting to know them. When we left the two main staff members said “we wish we had more Ceci and Ginas staying with us – you’ll have to come back soon!” They probably say that to everyone, but we were touched. A Walk on the Beach Hostel was another great example of how appearances can be deceiving – the longer we stayed there, the more we loved it. Much like Rio itself.

We managed to have one last hour on Ipanema Beach before we said our goodbyes to our new friends and headed out. After our tears in the cab ride to the airport, we had our last cheesy bread (definitely for the best, or we would probably be 500 pounds) at the airport café, and said our goodbyes to Brazil. We were well fed, bronzed, and happy. Ad once again, as with Buenos Aires, we knew we'd be back.  

Goodnight Rio

Flashback Series: "Hello, Buenos Aires!"

Evita soundtrack on repeat. That’s the best way to describe my four days in Buenos Aires with Cecilia – we even watched the movie at the hostel in Buenos Aires after we visited the Casa Rosada, the famous movie site, and at any point in time could be caught singing one of the songs out loud.  We had a fantastic time in this wonderfully cosmopolitan city – each district had its own unique character, and it was easy to feel like you were in two different cities at once simply by traveling a different direction for a few miles.

Buenos Aires was one of the top destinations on both of our South America travel lists – we had both decided it would be worth the extra cost to travel to Argentina, even though we had to pay a $160 fee (Ceci preferred to call it a fine) to enter the country. In the Argentinians’ defense, they have to pay about the same amount to enter the United States, so they seem to think it evens out. Either way, this lovely little hit on our bank accounts had just been implemented in January, only for residents of the United States, Australia, or Canada. You have to pay by card online before entering the country, then print off the confirmation page. When we got off the airplane there was a little guy waiting by the gate with a sign saying that residents of the three countries I just named had to show him proof of payment before proceeding. After we showed him ours, we asked what would have happened to us if we hadn’t paid the fee ahead of time or didn’t have proof of purchase, out of curiousity. His response? To point back at the plane we had just exited. No smile. Yikes.

We arrived in BA after staying overnight at the airport in Lima, Peru (we parked ourselves next to a Starbucks and had free wifi all night), which we chose to do instead of arrive in the city at 10 PM the night before – nighttime arrivals in a new big city usually aren’t the best idea for two female backpackers, costwise or safetywise. So instead we arrived in the city center bright and early on a Monday morning, ready to get to our hostel and start exploring.

We had some luck finding a wonderful hostel – three other people had recommended the hostel to us in Peru, and it turned out that one of the guys who had been on our Machu Picchu tour even had a couple nights booked there already for the same time we would be there. Mill House was a great hostel right in the middle of the historic downtown, just a few blocks walk from the Plaza de Mayo, the heart of the city. They had lots of activities on offer, a great common room to hang out in, order food, and meet fellow travelers, and nice rooms with a lot of balcony space.

The Paris of South America

Our first order of business after we checked into the hostel was to find some coffee, because we are Gina and Ceci, so after a short time wandering around and admiring the city streets we found ourselves a cute little outdoor café. The weather was wonderfully warm – a nice change after chilly weather in the Andes. As we sat with our coffees and observed our surroundings, we decided our first impression of the city was that it was a mix between Paris and Barcelona. (Fun fact: we both studied abroad in Barcelona in the same year in college. I left in August and she arrived in September.) We couldn’t believe we were still in South America. I had always heard that Buenos Aires was considered the ‘Paris of South America’ and now I certainly understand why. The beautiful buildings on the broad avenues, with outdoor cafes and wide sidewalks for strolling were definitely reminiscent of any major European city. Those Spaniards sure knew what they were doing when developing Buenos Aires into their shining glory capital city, along with Lima and Mexico City.  

Downtown plaza in Buenos Aires

 In Buenos Aires I had my very first tour bus experience. I’m ashamed to say that I usually look on the big city tour buses with disdain, filled with all the tourists zipping around on an open rooftop bus taking pictures and listening to the guide or recording. I really don’t know what my problem with the tour buses were, I just always felt like I would enjoy exploring a city by walking around it instead of zipping around on a bus. But, Ceci really enjoys the tour buses, so when she decided she wanted to take the tour and invited me along (yet another reason why Ceci is the best travel buddy ever – she and I are both independent enough to do things that we want to do on our own, so we’re perfectly happy splitting up at times but we get along so well that we usually just end up having more fun together). I knew she wanted me to come, so I decided that I couldn’t judge the tour buses unless I had done it myself, and bought my ticket. And you know what, it wasn’t half bad. I learned quite a bit, and I saw more than I would have by just walking around in the same amount of time. I don’t know if I’d do one again by choice, but for such a big city with limited time it really was a good way to get a feel of the layout of the city.  

A visit to Buenos Aires wouldn’t be complete without touring the historic Plaza de Mayo, site of the Casa Rosada, (White House equivalent) best known for the balcony where Evita sang “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.” The Plaza, also famous for the site of the Argentine defeat of the colonial Spanish on May 25^th, 1810, is still an important landmark and site of protests and demonstrations. Argentina has been through some pretty heavy political turmoil in the last century, including the presidential legacy of Juan Peron and his wife Eva, followed by a military dictatorship in the 1970s. The military ruling led to what is now known as the ‘Dirty War’ in Argentina, when hundreds of political suspects mysteriously disappeared, most to be tortured and killed. The mothers of these unfortunate prisoners have since joined together and formed the association of Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo.  Once a week the women met in the Plaza de Mayo to silently protest and commemorate their lost loved ones. They still do this today, in remembrance. The Plaza de Mayo is the heart and spirit of the Argentine, and continues to retain its historical significance to this day. 

 Plaza de Mayo

 Casa Rosada

View from Evita's balcony

  We had a quick tour through the Casa Rosada, translated into ‘the Pink House,’  bordering the Plaza de Mayo. It was originally built as a fort in the late sixteenth century, but since then has been renovated and rebuilt, its current structure lasting since 1898. According to Wikipedia, there are a few reasons for the pink color – one of them being that they used cow’s blood to tint the paint in order to prevent humidity, another proposes the idea that pink neutralized the two opposing forces, red and white, of the two main political parties at the time. Who knows? Either way, it’s a beautiful Neoclassical building, with an elegant interior that has now been preserved as a museum. Technically, the current Argentinian president doesn’t actually live there, but still uses the building for official business.

La Boca

 One of the highlights of the city for me was going to La Boca, an old neighborhood in a formerly rundown area that used to be considered highly dangerous. In the past, there was a high concentration of Italians (mostly Genoese, they say) living and working in La Boca (which means ‘the mouth,’ referring to the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, the river which runs through the city out to the ocean – La Boca used to be the port area of the city).  It went through a bit of a Renaissance from its rough and rowdy reputation, and is now considered a culturally thriving area, where the birth of the tango, Argentina’s national dance, took place.  It’s well known for its brightly painted houses of different colors, especially a street called El Caminito. I heard a story from Ceci that the reason there are so many different colors is because most people couldn’t afford enough paint to color their entire houses, so instead they shared the paint and chose to make everything multicolored. La Boca is also the home of one of Argentina’s most famous football team and stadium, the Boca Juniors. The area is very touristy, if you stay in the safe part, but still a nice place to spend an afternoon walking around and enjoying the sights. If you're lucky you can even catch a tango performance at one of the outdoor cafes or out on the streets. We spent an hour just sitting at a cafe (Ceci and I somehow always managed to know exactly when the other wanted to have a coffee break) and people watching in the sunshine. 

One of many coffee breaks, in La Boca.

 Ask most travelers what Buenos Aires is famous for and they will likely say one or all of the following:  Evita, the tango, good wine, and steak. We had been to the Casa Rosada, seen the tango cafes in La Boca, so by our last night it was time to indulge in a delicious wine and steak dinner, at a restaurant recommended to us by at least three people. Not only did I truly have the best steak I’ve ever had in my life, but I also the cheapest steak dinner in my life. Four of us paid no more than 18 dollars each for bread, salads, steaks, and wine. If any of you ever go to Buenos Aires, please do yourself a favor and go to La Cabrera, listed at the top of nearly every ‘best steakhouse in Buenos Aires list. It is absolutely worth it. We had a lovely dinner and enjoyed walking around Palermo, one of the more upscale districts of the city, before and after our meal.

  Our last morning in the city we had coffee at Café Tortoni, a famous Buenos Aires establishment since 1858. It has been selected as one of the ten most beautiful cafes in the world, and has been visited by celebrities such as Jorge Luis Borges, Albert Einstein, and Hilary Clinton. As we reminisced about our lovely time in BA, we congratulated ourselves in delaying our plans in order to spend an extra day in the city. It was worth it for all the coffee breaks at lovely cafes, the walks in the beautiful streets, the delicious food, and the different districts. But, all good things must come to an end. We had a late afternoon bus to catch, so after sharing a taxi ride with one of our roommates, we bought our bus snacks and prepared for departure. Our last glimpse of Buenos Aires was through the bus window in the rain as we drove away from the city. We decided Argentina was crying for us. We knew we’d be back.

Flashback Series: Machu Picchu

Hardly anyone knows how to pronounce it. Not too many people know exactly what country it’s in. Yet nearly everyone knows what it is. The famous Inca 'Lost City' Machu Picchu, one of the modern Seven Wonders of the World, is by far one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life. This is very late, but I'm just going to pick things up where I left off - I'm in South Africa, but let's pretend it's February again and I'm back in South America. 

                As typical budget backpackers do, we (me, Ceci, Jen, and Kate) went to Peru (in February) with the intention of ‘doing’ Machu Picchu on our own – we’d take a combination of bus and train to the base, stay overnight, then do the hike at the crack of dawn to catch the sunrise and spend the day exploring the Inca ruins. However, once we actually got to Cuzco to try and figure it out, we realized how difficult (and expensive) it could end up being. So, we decided to rely on the best travel guides in the world: fellow travelers. Jen found a fantastic hostel for us in Cuzco, full of backpackers either coming from or going to Machu Picchu. By our first night we had spoken to enough people to realize that to do what we wanted to do for the best price: we’d have to do a tour.

                I’d like to start by saying that my first reaction to any type of tour is aversion. I don’t like being told what to do, when to listen, or where to go at all times. I like to explore, learn, and experience on my own. However, I wasn’t traveling on my own – I was in a group. And three of them wanted to do the tour. It was a four day ‘Jungle Trek’ tour, which included three days of hiking and activities before spending the final day on Machu Picchu, all with a guide. As much as I wasn’t a fan of being guided around, I had to admit that the four days would be full of new experiences, I’d be with my friends, and we’d have Machu Picchu taken care of. I handed over the money without a fight. And now I can say it was absolutely worth every penny.

The crew at Machu Picchu

                One of the reasons the tour turned out to be so much fun was that we had a fantastic group. I mean, we all know on each tour there’s that one person who annoys everybody by complaining left and right, exclaiming loudly at everything that doesn’t require attention, throwing tantrums and causing embarrassment to everyone in the group (not to mention the country that person represents). You all know who I’m talking about, right? Well – we didn’t have one of those! I liked each and every one of us, and I think the others felt the same. We had a German couple, two Aussie boys, the four of us American girls, an Irish guy, and a German guy, along with our guide, Ricardo. (Random fun fact: the German guy, Robin, decided to join our tour after meeting our group at the hostel breakfast table. Why did we hit it off so well? It turned out he had spent a high school exchange semester in...Lake Crystal, Minnesota. Not even 20 minutes away from my hometown. Talk about coincidence). We were all around the same age and seemed to have the same chill attitude – we were there to experience the magic of Machu Picchu and have a fun time doing it. We were excited. The vibe was excellent. We were in for a fun ride. 

And a ride it was, quite literally. Our first morning was actually kind of miserable, but only for an hour. We started off by getting picked up at 6 am, then driving through the morning fog into the farmlands of the Andes, while winding up and up and up the mountain, climbing in altitude. When we finally reached the top, of what seemed to be in the middle of a cloud, it was cold, rainy, and foggy. The perfect weather for…mountain biking? Definitely not at first, but it was what we had signed up for, so to begin our adventure we put on some protective gear, layered up against the cold temperatures, and got on our bikes. All we were doing was biking down the hill we had just driven up, in order to reach the valley where we would begin our hike. Although it was pretty chilly and wet on the first half of the ride, once we cleared some of the cloud it turned into a lovely, and much warmer, view. We biked on the side of the road, mostly in single file, as we had to worry about other traffic following us and coming up the hill (and let me tell you, driving in South America is ten times more terrifying than in the States. And that’s when you’re in a bus, let alone a bicycle). 

First day bike ride.

Shower. Roughing it.

So, what started off cold and rainy ended up pleasant and cloudy, with beautiful views of the Peruvian Andes mountain valleys. Our first day of hiking consisted of trekking uphill to a little family café for lunch, then a few more hours of hiking up to our evening destination. We were being hosted by a woman who lived in a place only accessible by hike, which meant she was a very, very fit woman, considering we were all pretty wiped out by the time we reached it. The Andean people are naturally adaptable to hiking long distances, which they credit to a special plant. Ricardo explained to us the old tradition of chewing on coca leaves, which are endemic to the Andes. Most people would better know coca leaves as the source of cocaine, which it becomes once chemically altered and processed. However, the coca leaves themselves were and still are believed to provide extra energy and strength to those who chew on them continuously. There is even a local brand of coca tea that is produced and drunk regularly for its noted energizing source. 

That evening we all had a great dinner, after our much needed showers, and enjoyed getting to know each other while relaxing after our big day. We even had a power outage (not uncommon in the Andes) that made the night even more fun, especially when Ricardo began telling ancient Inca legends. We were even a little disappointed when the power finally came back on. We headed to bed early, ready for the next day's adventure.

Morning view from our room.

The next day was our big hiking day, so after waking up to our incredible view in the middle of the mountain jungle, we had a delicious breakfast and took off around mid-morning. We had to hike up a little longer before hiking back down, as we began to delve further into the mountains. At one of our pit stops our guide decided to give us some 'traditional' face paint, made from a special kind of berry that he mixed with water. I doubt the designs on our faces were actually traditional, but it was a fun break and a nice excuse to paint on everyone. We even got to return the favor and paint on him. The joke was on us though, since we weren't aware that the 'paint' was a natural sun repellent. One of the girls had 'I love Peru' sunburnt on her arm for three days.  

Face painting results. 

Hiking in the Andes.

Our hike that day was long, but we had a nice two hour break in some hammocks at our lunch stop - most of our meals consisted of a soup, some vegetable salad, rice, and some tasty meat. We also always had a pitcher of freshly squeezed tropical fruit juice. Perfect food for hungry hikers. Once we got ourselves going again we had another three hours of hiking, along with crossing a river in a pulley cart because it was too high, until we reached our reward: a hot springs pool. 

Hiking break.

The hot springs pool, though not actually very hot, was a very nice way to end a long day of hiking. We met up with another group doing a similar trek, and discovered we'd all be staying in the same small town that night. Ricardo nicknamed the little town 'Sin City', thanks to the seedy little Latin dance club located on one of the four streets in the town. We had a fun (and mildly innocent) night in Sin City dancing and trying to imitate all of the locals doing their Latin dancing - with little success, as you might have guessed.

Our third day started off with an adrenaline rush (though some didn't start the morning at 100 percent, if you know what I mean) as we strapped ourselves up in harnesses and put our helmets on in preparation for our ziplining tour. It was my first ziplining experience, and I'm pretty sure it will be very difficult to beat flying over the Andes, so perhaps it will be my last. We had a great day for it, and everything about the tour was well done, from the guides to the course to the length. We were even able to zipline upside down. I loved every minute but felt it went by much too fast. I guess that's what you get when you're flying across mountain valleys at high speeds. 

Ziplining. 

After ziplining we had a bit more hiking to do before reaching our lunch spot. While eating, we encountered our first major downpour, which led to a impromptu game of cards while waiting it out. We set out on our last hike of the trip, which was actually just walking on a straight trail through the mountain passes. Machu Picchu is the mountain just behind me on the right, which we came into clear view of once we crossed this bridge. 

After walking the last few kilometers, we reached Aguas Calientes, our final destination. We all headed straight for the hot showers, then got things ready for the morning. That evening spent some time exploring the cute little town that was purely serviced for tourists, complete with inflated tourist prices, and had a final group dinner with Ricardo. We were exhausted, but excited and ready.

Finally, it was Machu Picchu day. At 4 am our alarms went off, and we were up in the cold, rain, and dark to get ourselves and our bags ready to go. The gates to enter Machu Picchu opened at 6 am, but to reach the gates we had two options: take the bus or do the hike.  I’ll let you guess which one I chose. If you need help guessing, please look at the picture. 

Success at 6 am. 

Yep, the boys and I ‘took the stairs,’ all 8 kilometers of them. I think it was close to 2,000 steps, which I decided were much much worse than the stairs we had to run for training during university swimming. Plus it was dark. And in the rain. But worth it! We did the climb in less than an hour, the rain stopped halfway through, and made it to the gate by 6 am to meet up with the rest of our group. It was time for Machu Picchu, after three days of anticipation.

                So, what is Machu Picchu, exactly? I have a link here if you want to read a little more about it. Basically Machu Picchu, which means ‘Wise Mountain’ in Quechua, the language of the Inca empire, became a city of refuge and hiding for the Inca rulers when the Spaniards invaded and tried to conquer them in the sixteenth century. Machu Picchu was so well hidden within the mountains that the Spaniards never found them, and the city was left in peace. However, the citizens mysteriously disappeared without a trace, and Machu Picchu seemed destined to be lost forever…until 1911 when Yale professor and explorer Hiram Bingham followed a hunch and found the ‘lost city of the Incas.’ Today it is one of the most visited tourist sites in the world, and there is still much research and restoration being done in order to learn more about such a wonderfully preserved historical site.  

After getting our tickets and entering the gates, we finally laid our eyes upon the famous Lost City. It was foggy and cloudy, but considering we were visiting it during the rainy season, we were incredibly lucky not to be dumped on. But, we were there regardless, and we were excited. And so, so tired. Ricardo had about two hours of guiding to do for us before he left the tour and went back to Cuzco, so we tried our very very best to listen to his stories, but it was tough. We followed him around the complex, where he pointed out places like the university, the temple, and the farming terraces. And of course, we checked out the llamas who graciously allowed us to intrude on their home.  

New best friend.

 After Ricardo left us, we had the rest of the day to finish exploring the city, and could head back to Aguas Calientes anytime we wanted before the complex closed at 5. We had pre-booked tickets to climb Huayna Picchu, one of the peaks next to Machu Picchu, since they only allow about 400 people to climb it a day, in two different time slots. The hike wasn't as bad as the early morning one had been, but it was still pretty steep (see picture below) and strenuous. The views from the top, looking over the entirety of Machu Picchu, were stunning. Sidenote: Do you see the zigzag line next to the city? That's the bus route, compared to the basically vertical hike that goes straight up the center.

Hiking Huayna Picchu.

After Huayna Picchu, which took about three hours total, we headed back to the city and I took some time to myself to wander, take pictures, and think. I sat for a while and tried to picture the city in its prime, wondering what the people would have looked like, what daily life was like, how much it had changed, and how in the world they built it to look so perfect. Once again, I thought about how lucky I was and how many people wished they could see what I was seeing at that moment. 

The most peaceful and humbling moment I had on Machu Picchu came at the end of the afternoon. After my hike up at 5 AM, then the tour, then exploring, and then Huayna Picchu…I was pretty much done with the mountain. And wiped out. But Ceci wanted to hike back up the main mountain in order to see the lookout and get ‘the picture’. It was entirely my own choice, but the stubbornness in me wasn’t going to let the others see something cool that I missed due to being grumpy. So despite my very anti-lookout perspective, (I mean, I’d been staring at this thing all day by that point), I climbed. For the third time that day, I climbed. I reached the top, saw the picture perfect postcard view obscured by some clouds, said “I’m done” out loud, and then plopped down on the far end of a ledge to stare and take pictures. I was so done that I didn’t even stick with the girls to take pictures and they actually thought I had gone back down. But then, after about a half hour of just staring, admiring, and thinking about the incredible past four days, something amazing happened.

The clouds cleared. And the sun came out. 

We won. Everything was worth it – the hike, the cold, the climb, the fatigue – all for that moment. I was done. And so happy I’d hiked up in the rain and the cold, to add to the final feeling of satisfaction. It was absolutely stunning. I was swept up in the magic, the intrigue, and the mystery of this incredible place at that moment. 

The rest of the evening we spent relaxing in Aguas Calientes, after eating a nice meal together and getting ready to say goodbye. Our late train ride back to Cuzco consisted of nearly everyone on the train passing out…except for our group, who chose to stay up, celebrate with some adult beverages, and serenade each other with songs from our home countries. (I did not partake, I might add, and tried to keep the volume down for the sake of everyone else on the train like the good citizen I try so hard to be. My efforts didn’t really work.) We said goodbye when we all got back to the hostel because the next morning we got up early to head to Puno. Our adventure trek was over, but we had more than enough memories, photos, bug bites, and sore muscles to remind us of our incredible four days spent in the sacred mountains of Machu Picchu. 

Welcome to South Africa

Hey everyone, 

I hope you’re finally enjoying some quality spring weather – it was long overdue, especially for those in the Midwest! I’m writing outside on my friend’s patio in Durban, South Africa, where the sun is shining and I have a lovely view of the surrounding neighborhood hills, the greenery, and the Indian Ocean. I’m also in front of the pool and Jacuzzi on the patio, with a very well stocked bar just inside the doors behind me. Living the life here, I must say.

 I was welcomed to Durban with open arms last Sunday by my good friend Katie and her family, after spending a week and a half with my friend Jason and his family in a different part of the country. This two month trip to South Africa is unlike any I’ve ever had, because I’m not really a traveler, not really a backpacker, but I’m still a visitor. Actually, a better term would be a spoiled person. I’ve been treated with such kindness and hospitality – though I’ve been friends with Katie and Jason for years now, I didn’t know their families, and they've both taken me in and been so happy to show me their beautiful country, along with good food, friendship, and fun.

                So, just to review: Jason is my friend and fellow teammate from college swimming. He came to swim on an international scholarship in the middle of my sophomore year, in 2008. We were friends throughout our swim years, and have managed to meet up in Europe twice, the first time when I was studying abroad and he was on his way back to the States from a summer at home, and the second time when we actually planned a trip in Italy together, as I was on my way to South Korea in 2010. That was the last time I saw him, in Rome, at about 5 AM after a very late night out. I think our goodbye consisted of a quick hug and some mumbled sentiments, while we were both thinking about going back to sleep.

                We were both much fresher at the airport in Johannesburg two weeks ago – he was ready and waiting for me, and after clearing immigration and grabbing my bag, we were off to his family’s house in northeast Johannesburg. For those of you who think the capital of South Africa is Johannesburg, you’re wrong. It’s not. I say that just because I used to think it was the capital but then I did some studying and realized the capital is actually Pretoria, though nobody really knows that one – much like the capital of Austrailia is actually Canberra, not Sydney. Tricky. People also think Cape Town might be the capital of South Africa, as it’s certainly the most famous city, but that’s wrong too. So just to get that straight. Johannesburg is actually the business capital of the country – where all the deals go down. Jason and his family had just recently moved back to Joburg after living in Durban for many years.

Pretoria, South Africa

                My time in Joburg with his family was a great introduction and learning experience to South Africa. Jason and I went to the Voortrekker Monument and Parliament building in Pretoria my very first day, where I had my own private tour guide (Jason) to help explain parts of South Africa’s recent history. The Voortrekkers were the first Dutch settlers to set foot in the southern coast of the country, but after too many skirmishes with the locals they decided to pack up everything in ox wagons (Oregon Trail style) and trek northeast to the Johannesburg/Pretoria area to start anew. From there, Johannesburg became a Gold Rush city, which attracted thousands of people hoping to strike it rich in the late nineteenth century.

  The next day we skipped ahead to more recent history and hit the Apartheid Museum, a reminder of the officially imposed system of racial segregation from 1948-1990. I used my knowledge of America’s own racial injustices as a basis of comparison, but of course found just as many differences as similarities to the American Civil Rights Movement. I’ll write more about Apartheid and its place in South African history once I’ve done some more proper reading and research. After the Apartheid Museum, my ‘education’ was furthered by the Hektor Pietersen Memorial that we visited in the Soweto township, a district that was historically the hotbed of unrest and revolution.  The big event in Soweto, that sparked years of violence that eventually led to the cessation of apartheid, was a student protest against the government ruling that lessons be taught in Afrikaans (the language of the Dutch ancestors in South Africa, which most black students couldn’t understand or pass their exams in),  that resulted in many deaths and injuries. Today the area is much more peaceful and frequented by tourists, as it is also the homeplace of both Nelson Mandela and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, both Pulitzer Prize winners.

Zebras!

In between all of the history, I was also introduced to my first wild animal experience at a small game reserve outside of Joburg. A game drive is what 'tourists' call a safari, where you drive around in your cars in special protected areas where you can see wild animals. Though we are going to a much larger and better game reserve in June, his parents still took us on a short drive, in which I saw zebras, rhinos, ostrich, impala, and a variety of other birds and small game. Apparently it's usually much more exciting, according to his family, but I was absolutely thrilled with my first introduction to South African wildlife. I can't imagine how exciting the next game drive will be if the one we went on was just mediocre.

Hiking in The Berg

View from the campsite

  After all of my newfound knowledge, which also includes learning the rules of cricket and rugby, thanks to Jason and his father, we left Joburg and took off for “The Berg,” the local term for the Drakensberg Mountains, a beautiful little range in the southeastern part of the country. The Berg was beautiful, and though it was quite chilly in the mornings and evenings (it’s winter here in the Southern Hemisphere) the days were bright, clear, and sunny. We went hiking, golfing, walking, and biking in between meals and coffee breaks, and enjoyed the fresh mountain air as much as possible.

The weekend was over much too quickly, but I was already excited for what was up next: a trip to Durban with Jason's family friends (who came up to join us on the Friday and Saturday), where Katie would meet me and take her to my new Durban home. It was sad to say goodbye to Jason and his family, but not too painful because I knew I'd be seeing them again in mid-June.

'Welcome gift'

Now, Katie. She was born and raised in Durban, and had been teaching in Korea for nearly two years when I met her there. We worked in the same area, and became good friends and travel buddies. I hadn’t seen her since August when I left Korea. Her smiling face came to pick me up on Sunday, where I was welcomed into the family and given my own room (picture included of my welcome gift) with a balcony view of the ocean. Can’t ask for much more than that.

My balcony view.

                So far Durban has been a lovely week of relaxing. We’ve gotten up at 6 am every day to go for a walk along the beachfront promenade while the sun comes up. My words to her were “I can’t believe your family gets up so early to go exercise…because it’s exactly what I love to do in the mornings.” Seriously. And by a beach at that! So we get up, walk, come back for breakfast, then retreat into “the lounge” for some serious veg time with the television, computer, books, or what have you (usually more than one at the same time, to multitask). We wander into the kitchen around lunch and mill around, then repeat our morning during the afternoon. After a family dinner everyone has some quality lounge time, until it’s time to go to bed early so that we can get up to go walking. Each day we’ve had a little errand to run, so we get out of the house a bit, but for this week it’s been very low key. Durban certainly has a lot to offer as far as sightseeing goes, but both Katie and I are really enjoying the fact that we have so much time to do things, so we can take it easy for a few days here and there. So yes, I might sound a bit lazy, but trust me when I say I need it right now.

                I’ll be in Durban for the next six weeks, then in mid-June I’ll head back up to Joburg to stay with Jason again, until Allie and Travis, two of our best friends from college swimming, arrive. Then we’ll spend almost two weeks touring the country together – we’re going to Cape Town, a game reserve (safari), and back to Durban. From Durban I’ll say goodbye to everyone and stay with Katie and her family for a few more days and celebrate my birthday with them. Then it's back to the States, just in time for the Fourth!

                So for now, I’m planning to relax, learn about South Africa and its fascinating history, work on getting my grad school application research in order, enjoy time with Katie and her family, and get ready for the much anticipated arrival of Allie and Travis next month. And yes, I’m also planning to finish up writing about South America – I’ll get those writings out in the very near future. Take care everyone, hope all is well!