I did not part with Randal for free in Costa Rica. I was able to arrange a sale by word of mouth. In return, I received 200 USD and a wooden bowl.
Closure and blog over.
Friday, August 24
Friday, August 10
The Contest Summary
The other way we were shown pre-trip love was through bets placed on Randal's final resting place. Our investors, as we began to affectionately call them, had varying degrees of confidence in Randal's longevity. Guesses ranged from Tennessee to Panama. The chart below shows the distribution of bets:
Early guesses like Tennessee had some validity since we experienced stalling right from the start. These stalls, however, were all while the car was idling, so they had little impact on the car's ability to cover vast distances at high speeds. As soon as we got on the road to San Antonio, the car ran well. The second day’s drive was also devoid of major mechanical issue. I soon rolled into Guanajuato, Mexico. After these first 2 days of driving, we already knocked out 13 of 25 of the choices presented in the contest details. Only one investor had selected these choices though, so nearly everyone still had a shot at the prize.
Mechanically, day 3 presented some challenges. It was the first time I got stuck in 3rd gear. The stick only lasted about 30 miles before a toll booth slow down stalled the car and normalcy returned. For a moment, I though the guess of Mexico City might reward Esther Chon and Phil Karash, but the 3 day park in Mexico City provided Randal the rest needed to continue.
Southern Mexico, despite its high mountains and stretches of dense forest, didn’t present any issues for Randal. We quickly passed Matt Leonard’s guess of Chiapas. It wasn't until our unexpected crossing of El Salvador that issues began to arise. We started to experience the gear locking I wrote about before. I briefly wondered how betters would take to a breakdown in country we didn’t announce as a destination. In the end it wouldn't matter. We powered through the loss of 4th gear, topping out around 60 mph and stopped for lunch when the engine started to overheat. With the same issues rearing up, we crossed Honduras and Nicaragua in much the same fashion. Sorry Jordan Barone and David Zurbochen, never say die.
The slower pace was apparent as we got into southern Nicaragua. 200 miles drives were taking half the day. Gas mileage was also a factor. The combination of these factors claimed Costa Rica as the final stop and transformed one Lindsey “Sunshine” Getches into a contest winner. Here is a picture of her sporting her newly acquired swag.
Over the course of the drive, we put 5,882 miles on the car. The odometer read 125,023 when we left it in San Jose. I estimate we probably averaged around 45 mph because even though we touched speeds of 90+ mph in Northern Mexico, once we hit Guatemala, engine issues and the omnipresent topes (large speed bumps) make it impossible to average more than 35 mph. In Mexico City, we were lucky to average 15 mph. This average speed means that we spent close to 130 hours in the car. The total mileage means that we racked up nearly 5% of the total car's mileage in 27 short days. In Clarence Rahn's terms, we accumulated 9.5% of his total driven distance from 17 years of use. Clarence totaled the 5,882 miles put up in 27 days every 19.5 months. That's a road trip.
Early guesses like Tennessee had some validity since we experienced stalling right from the start. These stalls, however, were all while the car was idling, so they had little impact on the car's ability to cover vast distances at high speeds. As soon as we got on the road to San Antonio, the car ran well. The second day’s drive was also devoid of major mechanical issue. I soon rolled into Guanajuato, Mexico. After these first 2 days of driving, we already knocked out 13 of 25 of the choices presented in the contest details. Only one investor had selected these choices though, so nearly everyone still had a shot at the prize.
Mechanically, day 3 presented some challenges. It was the first time I got stuck in 3rd gear. The stick only lasted about 30 miles before a toll booth slow down stalled the car and normalcy returned. For a moment, I though the guess of Mexico City might reward Esther Chon and Phil Karash, but the 3 day park in Mexico City provided Randal the rest needed to continue.
Southern Mexico, despite its high mountains and stretches of dense forest, didn’t present any issues for Randal. We quickly passed Matt Leonard’s guess of Chiapas. It wasn't until our unexpected crossing of El Salvador that issues began to arise. We started to experience the gear locking I wrote about before. I briefly wondered how betters would take to a breakdown in country we didn’t announce as a destination. In the end it wouldn't matter. We powered through the loss of 4th gear, topping out around 60 mph and stopped for lunch when the engine started to overheat. With the same issues rearing up, we crossed Honduras and Nicaragua in much the same fashion. Sorry Jordan Barone and David Zurbochen, never say die.
The slower pace was apparent as we got into southern Nicaragua. 200 miles drives were taking half the day. Gas mileage was also a factor. The combination of these factors claimed Costa Rica as the final stop and transformed one Lindsey “Sunshine” Getches into a contest winner. Here is a picture of her sporting her newly acquired swag.
 |
| Hat and booze provided by Costa Rica |
Over the course of the drive, we put 5,882 miles on the car. The odometer read 125,023 when we left it in San Jose. I estimate we probably averaged around 45 mph because even though we touched speeds of 90+ mph in Northern Mexico, once we hit Guatemala, engine issues and the omnipresent topes (large speed bumps) make it impossible to average more than 35 mph. In Mexico City, we were lucky to average 15 mph. This average speed means that we spent close to 130 hours in the car. The total mileage means that we racked up nearly 5% of the total car's mileage in 27 short days. In Clarence Rahn's terms, we accumulated 9.5% of his total driven distance from 17 years of use. Clarence totaled the 5,882 miles put up in 27 days every 19.5 months. That's a road trip.
Tuesday, August 7
Bordering America Mix Tape
We've loved all the support you've showed us through blog hits, comments, and emails. Truly one of the greatest parts of the adventure have been communicating with some of you throughout. Before we even began to drive we asked for support in several ways. One of the ways we felt support was through responses to the call for roadtripping music. I'd like to provide some conclusion in this area by releasing the Bordering America Top 10 song list:
10. Fetts Vette- MC Chris (Submitted by Isaac)
9. Bonfire- Childish Gambino
While Childish Gambino's lyrics can be inappropriate at times (or all the time), they are also some of the wittiest. I found myself repeating lines long after the song had ended and still getting a laugh. Another benefit of this song is the pacing which seems to will the car forward. By the end of the journey, it was a nighttime 'must play.'
8. Want U Back- Cher Lloyd
This song was introduced to Andrew during pop survivor and it was pretty new to me as well. As soon as the damage done during the early repetition wore off, it reentered our play list as the third song played each morning of heavy travel. Cher's growls and grunts seemed to convey our frustration with ambiguous Spanish directions and her melodic refrain 'want you back' betrayed our eventual homecoming.
7. A Favor House Atlantic- Coheed & Cambria
It is no secret we both love the musical stylings of Coheed & Cambria. I think the opening lyric to "retrace the footsteps that led us this favor," rang particularly true for us as we consistently questioned the combination of luck and skill that brought us to one fantastic destination after another. We also identified with the questioning chorus asking "Are you in or are you out?" as it applied the many friends who feigned interest in joining us only to realize the insanity of our plan and duration of our travels.
6. Highway to Hell- AC/DC (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
This seems like a staple of a good road trip mix. Although we adamantly refuse that our destination was hell (it seemed we arrived at paradise), the route was definitely highways. Additionally, this was one of the better interactive listens on our list. We got rowdy and sang along each time it was played.
5. Barracuda- Heart (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
Barracuda gained immediate support for the lyric "If the real thing don't do the trick No! You better make up something quick." This applied to more than one situation we got ourselves into. The rhythm of the song was also a key selling point. We could play it in heavy Mexico City traffic and still feel as if we were moving forward.
4. She Doesn't Get It- The Format (Stolen from a pirate radio broadcast by Jeremy Vaida)
While I was a 'The Format' fan prior to departure, the band slowly grew on Andrew throughout the travels. This tune headed the list largely due to feel. It was capable of stirring feelings of sadness associated with departure while constantly reminding us that we had one more night to keep pushing and see where the roads would take us.
3. Drive it Like you Stole it- The Glitch Mob (Submitted by Jake Horwath)
This song was the second one played during the beginning of each driving leg of the journey. The mash up featured Drake pumping us up and instructing haters not to play with us. It is probably because we shouted the lyrics loudly that we didn't experience any major run ins with law enforcement or cartels. The song title also lent itself to instant love. Going 130 km/hr in a 80 km/hr zone felt like living up to the charge of driving it like it was stolen.
2. Lazy Sunday- Lonely Island (feat. Chris Parnell)
Andrew and I worked tirelessly to master the give and take Parnell and Samberg demonstrated in this rap. We got pretty good by the end of the trip killing many hours of potentially unexciting car travel and preparing us to the be the main event at our next social event.
1. Panama- Van Halen (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
This seems like no brainer given the intended destination of our trip. It led off each day's driving. It was able to reunite Andrew and I in our main objective, replace breakfast with its rich cries of "Panama," and excite us for the adventure that lay ahead. It continues to play through our heads as a potential destination for future endeavors.
10. Fetts Vette- MC Chris (Submitted by Isaac)
MC Chris was the fast talker we needed to deliver a loaded song with high relistenability. He gets through so many lyrics in this three and a half minute song, it took us several takes to put together some of the rhymes. Even better, almost all the lyrics are understandable if you take the time to separate them. Andrew's soft spot for Star Wars probably allowed this jam to beat out other MC Chris favorites like Hoodie Ninja. It even provided the opportunity to school me in the highest grossing movie franchise (this stat probably needs to be adjusted for inflation or something).
While Childish Gambino's lyrics can be inappropriate at times (or all the time), they are also some of the wittiest. I found myself repeating lines long after the song had ended and still getting a laugh. Another benefit of this song is the pacing which seems to will the car forward. By the end of the journey, it was a nighttime 'must play.'
8. Want U Back- Cher Lloyd
This song was introduced to Andrew during pop survivor and it was pretty new to me as well. As soon as the damage done during the early repetition wore off, it reentered our play list as the third song played each morning of heavy travel. Cher's growls and grunts seemed to convey our frustration with ambiguous Spanish directions and her melodic refrain 'want you back' betrayed our eventual homecoming.
7. A Favor House Atlantic- Coheed & Cambria
It is no secret we both love the musical stylings of Coheed & Cambria. I think the opening lyric to "retrace the footsteps that led us this favor," rang particularly true for us as we consistently questioned the combination of luck and skill that brought us to one fantastic destination after another. We also identified with the questioning chorus asking "Are you in or are you out?" as it applied the many friends who feigned interest in joining us only to realize the insanity of our plan and duration of our travels.
6. Highway to Hell- AC/DC (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
This seems like a staple of a good road trip mix. Although we adamantly refuse that our destination was hell (it seemed we arrived at paradise), the route was definitely highways. Additionally, this was one of the better interactive listens on our list. We got rowdy and sang along each time it was played.
5. Barracuda- Heart (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
Barracuda gained immediate support for the lyric "If the real thing don't do the trick No! You better make up something quick." This applied to more than one situation we got ourselves into. The rhythm of the song was also a key selling point. We could play it in heavy Mexico City traffic and still feel as if we were moving forward.
4. She Doesn't Get It- The Format (Stolen from a pirate radio broadcast by Jeremy Vaida)
While I was a 'The Format' fan prior to departure, the band slowly grew on Andrew throughout the travels. This tune headed the list largely due to feel. It was capable of stirring feelings of sadness associated with departure while constantly reminding us that we had one more night to keep pushing and see where the roads would take us.
3. Drive it Like you Stole it- The Glitch Mob (Submitted by Jake Horwath)
This song was the second one played during the beginning of each driving leg of the journey. The mash up featured Drake pumping us up and instructing haters not to play with us. It is probably because we shouted the lyrics loudly that we didn't experience any major run ins with law enforcement or cartels. The song title also lent itself to instant love. Going 130 km/hr in a 80 km/hr zone felt like living up to the charge of driving it like it was stolen.
2. Lazy Sunday- Lonely Island (feat. Chris Parnell)
Andrew and I worked tirelessly to master the give and take Parnell and Samberg demonstrated in this rap. We got pretty good by the end of the trip killing many hours of potentially unexciting car travel and preparing us to the be the main event at our next social event.
1. Panama- Van Halen (Submitted by Andy Fogel)
This seems like no brainer given the intended destination of our trip. It led off each day's driving. It was able to reunite Andrew and I in our main objective, replace breakfast with its rich cries of "Panama," and excite us for the adventure that lay ahead. It continues to play through our heads as a potential destination for future endeavors.
Saturday, August 4
5 Vacations in One Trip
Our journey has been a multifaceted one filled with different hosts, activities, and challenges. We have already begun to field questions regarding our favorite stops. One of the best parts of the trip is that this question is really impossible to answer. Even though we traversed Spanish speaking nations of central and north America, the journey felt like several different trips loosely connected by day long drives and interludes DJ-ed by Andrew, Jeremy Vaida, Andy Fogel, or Jess Lavasseur. As the last post mentions, Coast Rica felt like a week long beach trip in a tropic paradise. A beach stay is impossible to compare our time in Nicaragua that was anything but. I wanted to give a little more insight into the 5 different vacations of which our trip was comprised:
1. Mexico: Culturally Focused Vacation
This is the vacation that makes children antsy and adults contemplative. We spent 3 of our days here just exploring ruins. Another large piece of the stay was spent visiting local museums. Even during the evenings, we let loose with our host David with local food from the streets and popular Mexico City nightlife. This was the vacation that the History Channel and Travel Channel combined to recommend.
2. Guatemala: The Party Vacation
We stumbled upon a thriving expat community and felt right at home with college students and recent grads trying to find their way. We got in hikes, but really focused on boat parties, soccer games, swimming in the lake. This felt like a long weekend with a bunch of great friends.
3. El Salvador: The Prison Stay
Albeit short lived, our El Salvador stay was a vacation in the sense that working on Saturday gets you out of mowing the lawn. Our accommodations were hot and sticky. The local street market was a bit grey and sobering. The grocery store trip established a new desire for every want it filled.
4. Nicaragua: The Family Vacation
With limited guidance of where to go, we ended up hitting to top attractions in Nicaragua. We hiked volcanoes and spent time in lakeside towns. This vacation felt like it was planned by our parents to make sure we missed nothing big at the cost of rarely getting off the beaten path.
5. Costa Rica: The Shore
In Costa Rica, we spent the bulk of our time reading, sunbathing, and surfing. This vacation had luxury and relaxation. We sipped tropical drinks but forgot the day of the week enough times to prevent any real exploration of local culture.
1. Mexico: Culturally Focused Vacation
This is the vacation that makes children antsy and adults contemplative. We spent 3 of our days here just exploring ruins. Another large piece of the stay was spent visiting local museums. Even during the evenings, we let loose with our host David with local food from the streets and popular Mexico City nightlife. This was the vacation that the History Channel and Travel Channel combined to recommend.
2. Guatemala: The Party Vacation
We stumbled upon a thriving expat community and felt right at home with college students and recent grads trying to find their way. We got in hikes, but really focused on boat parties, soccer games, swimming in the lake. This felt like a long weekend with a bunch of great friends.
3. El Salvador: The Prison Stay
Albeit short lived, our El Salvador stay was a vacation in the sense that working on Saturday gets you out of mowing the lawn. Our accommodations were hot and sticky. The local street market was a bit grey and sobering. The grocery store trip established a new desire for every want it filled.
4. Nicaragua: The Family Vacation
With limited guidance of where to go, we ended up hitting to top attractions in Nicaragua. We hiked volcanoes and spent time in lakeside towns. This vacation felt like it was planned by our parents to make sure we missed nothing big at the cost of rarely getting off the beaten path.
5. Costa Rica: The Shore
In Costa Rica, we spent the bulk of our time reading, sunbathing, and surfing. This vacation had luxury and relaxation. We sipped tropical drinks but forgot the day of the week enough times to prevent any real exploration of local culture.
Ditch the Ride
Our stay in Costa Rica has taken our trip in yet another direction. The days are best characterized by all the trimmings of a classic beach vacation. I've chilled on the beach pina colada in hand, thrown frisbees in the soft sand, and swam in the warm Pacific Ocean.
I've also learned how to surf. Unfortunately, surfing took a quick hostage. My gopro now lies at the bottom of the Pacific. It is a major bummer to be sure (I am now authorized to use surfer slang), but I am also totally over it. I was being dumb using it without an attached floatation device, and I had enough of a test drive with the camera to know that I will be buying another and being more careful in the future. Bigger than losing the camera, I am disappointed that I won't be able to load any of the sweet sweet footage I was taking at the time. A brief text based recount of the material might first mention my natural aptitude for the waves. It is also important to note my creative style. In tandem with the actual physical stunt, my narration was clear and seamless. It is a real disappointment that these videos are forever lost.
Another Costa Rican activity has been trying to plan for Randal's afterlife. Needless to say, I will not be following any sort of ancient Egyptian and Aztec rituals that involve burial, mummification, or accompaniment of worldly possessions. Instead I will be passing ride to next of kin (Matt is paying Costa Rica a visit next week) and then trying to barter for more transportable goods like spoons, textiles, and currency. Shockingly, based on the difficulty to import cars to Costa Rica, even the 1991 Dodge Spirit has drawn much praise and interest from perspective buyers. Really I would be ecstatic for 200 dollars in exchange. This would make my return flight ticket a mere 71 dollars. I would also be interested in some sort of wall hanging or good that I could point to for the rest of my life and say "Yep, I traded a car for that!" We'll see what sort of arrangements transpire. The most tricky part of the dealing, is that Randal isn't truly a legal permanent import. Instead, I brought him in under the guise of a temporary import. It will take some time and dollars to remove this label.
I've also learned how to surf. Unfortunately, surfing took a quick hostage. My gopro now lies at the bottom of the Pacific. It is a major bummer to be sure (I am now authorized to use surfer slang), but I am also totally over it. I was being dumb using it without an attached floatation device, and I had enough of a test drive with the camera to know that I will be buying another and being more careful in the future. Bigger than losing the camera, I am disappointed that I won't be able to load any of the sweet sweet footage I was taking at the time. A brief text based recount of the material might first mention my natural aptitude for the waves. It is also important to note my creative style. In tandem with the actual physical stunt, my narration was clear and seamless. It is a real disappointment that these videos are forever lost.
Another Costa Rican activity has been trying to plan for Randal's afterlife. Needless to say, I will not be following any sort of ancient Egyptian and Aztec rituals that involve burial, mummification, or accompaniment of worldly possessions. Instead I will be passing ride to next of kin (Matt is paying Costa Rica a visit next week) and then trying to barter for more transportable goods like spoons, textiles, and currency. Shockingly, based on the difficulty to import cars to Costa Rica, even the 1991 Dodge Spirit has drawn much praise and interest from perspective buyers. Really I would be ecstatic for 200 dollars in exchange. This would make my return flight ticket a mere 71 dollars. I would also be interested in some sort of wall hanging or good that I could point to for the rest of my life and say "Yep, I traded a car for that!" We'll see what sort of arrangements transpire. The most tricky part of the dealing, is that Randal isn't truly a legal permanent import. Instead, I brought him in under the guise of a temporary import. It will take some time and dollars to remove this label.
Thursday, August 2
Wednesday, August 1
Cars and Clocks
After another full day's travel, we arrived at a friend of friend's place outside of Playa San Miguel, Costa Rica. Our approach already heavily delayed at the border, we met more resistance from intermittent downpours and dirt roads. A full day of travel behind us, albeit only 5 actually driving, we made our ascent up Marie and Hank's steep drive way.
During the drive, our engine still topped out in third gear. While we were once the car passing tractor trailers and buses on straight-aways, it is increasingly us being passed. Our max speed on this leg was probably 55mph, a far cry from the low 90s of Northern Mexico. The gas mileage has fallen to the lowest of the trip, about 19 or 20 mpg.
Also time has quickly become a concern. We voluntarily spent an additional day in Oaxaca given great accommodations and company. We opted for an additional day in Guatemala in order to be part of the caravan to the El Salvador border. The lost passport of Ometepe cost us a day in Nicaragua and the border fiasco of July 30 cost us an early arrival at the Costa Rica beaches. All said, we are nearly 4 days behind the pace we conceived necessary to reach Panama.
Given the time crunch and the devolving state of the car, Andrew and I had the talk tonight. We are going to investigate ways to make Costa Rica the final resting place of Detroit-born Randal Spirit.
Randal and the American Spirit:
Wires from Taiwan
Fabrics, Filipino
Steel from Mexico
Drempt together in Detroit by Italian-born, Gino
A global patchwork dated in the last century
Before the baseball strike, Friends' debut, or Madoff's stay in penitentiary
This perfect combination left to bake overnight
Rise hope, dreams, diversity, deep wisdom, and insight
This product delighted old Clarence Rahn
He rode proudly amongst carriages and buggies, horse-drawn
But as Clarance grew old, the Spirit would ride
Down to Washington, DC where arms opened wide
To embrace the old paint and youth under the hood
Proudly parked next to Beamers at Booz Allen it stood
Some parts needed fixing and others replaced
Levi in Lantham and Ray in VA lent expertise
Always another journey still lay in store
The essence of both man and machine needed a pour
Because Spirit doesn't sit still, it roams and it seeks
Despite tight mountain passes and low lying creeks
Through highlands and lowlands, freeways and toll
The Spirit began to rumble but continued to roll
Adventures too numerous from New York to Topeka
Will Spirit stir again on the beaches of Costa Rica?
******
Those of you who have seen me with Randal, rode, driven, or just worked the gas pedal, now is the time for parting words.
During the drive, our engine still topped out in third gear. While we were once the car passing tractor trailers and buses on straight-aways, it is increasingly us being passed. Our max speed on this leg was probably 55mph, a far cry from the low 90s of Northern Mexico. The gas mileage has fallen to the lowest of the trip, about 19 or 20 mpg.
Also time has quickly become a concern. We voluntarily spent an additional day in Oaxaca given great accommodations and company. We opted for an additional day in Guatemala in order to be part of the caravan to the El Salvador border. The lost passport of Ometepe cost us a day in Nicaragua and the border fiasco of July 30 cost us an early arrival at the Costa Rica beaches. All said, we are nearly 4 days behind the pace we conceived necessary to reach Panama.
Given the time crunch and the devolving state of the car, Andrew and I had the talk tonight. We are going to investigate ways to make Costa Rica the final resting place of Detroit-born Randal Spirit.
Randal and the American Spirit:
Wires from Taiwan
Fabrics, Filipino
Steel from Mexico
Drempt together in Detroit by Italian-born, Gino
A global patchwork dated in the last century
Before the baseball strike, Friends' debut, or Madoff's stay in penitentiary
This perfect combination left to bake overnight
Rise hope, dreams, diversity, deep wisdom, and insight
This product delighted old Clarence Rahn
He rode proudly amongst carriages and buggies, horse-drawn
But as Clarance grew old, the Spirit would ride
Down to Washington, DC where arms opened wide
To embrace the old paint and youth under the hood
Proudly parked next to Beamers at Booz Allen it stood
Some parts needed fixing and others replaced
Levi in Lantham and Ray in VA lent expertise
Always another journey still lay in store
The essence of both man and machine needed a pour
Because Spirit doesn't sit still, it roams and it seeks
Despite tight mountain passes and low lying creeks
Through highlands and lowlands, freeways and toll
The Spirit began to rumble but continued to roll
Adventures too numerous from New York to Topeka
Will Spirit stir again on the beaches of Costa Rica?
******
Those of you who have seen me with Randal, rode, driven, or just worked the gas pedal, now is the time for parting words.
Cross Fits
When: Yesterday 8am-3:45pm
Where: Nicaragua/Costa Rica Border Crossing at Pena Blancas
Why: We can't really be too sure here, but it was our most frustrating border crossing yet. We were given a couple different explanations, but none fully hold up to our combined scrutiny. Safe it to say we have a great party story once we return home.
And in any case, welcome at long last to Costa Rica!
Where: Nicaragua/Costa Rica Border Crossing at Pena Blancas
Why: We can't really be too sure here, but it was our most frustrating border crossing yet. We were given a couple different explanations, but none fully hold up to our combined scrutiny. Safe it to say we have a great party story once we return home.
And in any case, welcome at long last to Costa Rica!
Tuesday, July 31
Meanwhile back on the Mainland
While Andrew amassed frequent ferry miles, I awaited the news of his passported return to mainland from the stands at the Rivas Professional Baseball stadium. In some ways, I was lucky that there was a double header scheduled during the wait, but as I was soon to find out this was also something a of a curse. A far superior team from Managua was in town. The hometown 9 received back-to-back bludgeonings at the hands of these out-of-towner mashers.
The most notable difference at the Nicaraguan baseball game (from the MLB) was the level of fan interaction with the game. There were probably only 8,000 spectators, yet when the opposing team called a conference on the mound, it sounded like 80,000. No matter if Rivas was down and out, a runner in scoring position meant the crowd was on their feet shouting and whistling. The fans were very passionate about their team.
The players performed as if they too were heavily investing in the contest. Two bench clearing scuffles occurred. Once, predictably when a Rivas pitcher beaned a Managua player to load the bases and a second time somewhat unexpectedly when a Managua player beat out a play at first with a contact-laden head first slide.
Perhaps my favorite part of the game, occurred while I was still in the parking lot. A group of 6 teens engulfed Randal seemingly trying to get the owner of a car with DC plates to pay for parking in the near empty lot. Most of teens extended their pointer and middle fingers and rapidly switched aim from their eyes to the bumper of the car, an indication that they would 'keep an eye on it.' I decided to go with the classic zero Spanish approach I'd been contemplating for run ins with law enforcement. I spoke loudly to the teens all in English without any acknowledgement that I understood their miming. I said things like, "Good day for Baseball!" and "You guys sure are excited!". I slowly pushed through the pack. This led to more frantic miming. When I returned to my car after the game, two boys ran over to sit on the bumper as if they had stood guard the whole game. Again, I made no acknowledgement that I understood their demands. This time however, I listened closely for the prices they were demanding. They started up around 50 Cordoba, but as I approached the car, one dropped the price tag to 20. I instantly became acutely aware of their demands and the radical discount offered. I honed in on the teen who offered me the reduction and made direct eye contact. I prompted him again with "Qunto?" Spanish for 'how much?'. He said 20 again to which I responded "No, no! That's too much!" He dropped it to 10. His friend then said 5. I acted even more confused by the discrepancy in price and burst out laughing. Several of boys who had rejoined the pack followed suit and erupted in giggles. The oldest boys who had continued to press for 50 throughout the entire dialogue flashed scowls to the discounters. I hopped into the car and drove off without paying for parking.
The most notable difference at the Nicaraguan baseball game (from the MLB) was the level of fan interaction with the game. There were probably only 8,000 spectators, yet when the opposing team called a conference on the mound, it sounded like 80,000. No matter if Rivas was down and out, a runner in scoring position meant the crowd was on their feet shouting and whistling. The fans were very passionate about their team.
The players performed as if they too were heavily investing in the contest. Two bench clearing scuffles occurred. Once, predictably when a Rivas pitcher beaned a Managua player to load the bases and a second time somewhat unexpectedly when a Managua player beat out a play at first with a contact-laden head first slide.
Perhaps my favorite part of the game, occurred while I was still in the parking lot. A group of 6 teens engulfed Randal seemingly trying to get the owner of a car with DC plates to pay for parking in the near empty lot. Most of teens extended their pointer and middle fingers and rapidly switched aim from their eyes to the bumper of the car, an indication that they would 'keep an eye on it.' I decided to go with the classic zero Spanish approach I'd been contemplating for run ins with law enforcement. I spoke loudly to the teens all in English without any acknowledgement that I understood their miming. I said things like, "Good day for Baseball!" and "You guys sure are excited!". I slowly pushed through the pack. This led to more frantic miming. When I returned to my car after the game, two boys ran over to sit on the bumper as if they had stood guard the whole game. Again, I made no acknowledgement that I understood their demands. This time however, I listened closely for the prices they were demanding. They started up around 50 Cordoba, but as I approached the car, one dropped the price tag to 20. I instantly became acutely aware of their demands and the radical discount offered. I honed in on the teen who offered me the reduction and made direct eye contact. I prompted him again with "Qunto?" Spanish for 'how much?'. He said 20 again to which I responded "No, no! That's too much!" He dropped it to 10. His friend then said 5. I acted even more confused by the discrepancy in price and burst out laughing. Several of boys who had rejoined the pack followed suit and erupted in giggles. The oldest boys who had continued to press for 50 throughout the entire dialogue flashed scowls to the discounters. I hopped into the car and drove off without paying for parking.
Boddorff the Brilliant
I consider myself an intelligent guy. I am starting to reconsider that.
We just left Ometepe (the amazing island made from two volcanoes) and were
once again reunited with Randal, excitedly packing away our belongings,
when it hit me. Where is my passport? After a quick frantic search, it
became apparent it was not on my person.
Off to an internet cafe to locate the number of our previous hostel and
after a quick call, my fears were confirmed. Where do I leave my
passport? ON AN ISLAND! Just an island? NO! Try an island in the middle
of the largest lake in Central America....made of volcanoes. Do not
worry...only an hour hop from the mainland...
The boat ride, now my third trek, was the strangest yet. Packed on a
smaller, less confident vessel, I was squeezed between an Italian guy and a
crumudgeony Nicaraguan. To spice it up, we hit waves and the boat really
got rocking. Then I felt the water around my feet and really started to
doubt as the wooden hull creaked. The Italian man was very friendly and
even offered me a stick of gum. The Nicaraguan guy showed me his affection
by essentially bodying me off the boat as we arrived, showing little to no
regard for the women and children in my path not to mention personal space.
I am reunited with my long lost passport and am less than an hour away from
my return trip (Boat Ride #4 for those who are keeping track at home).
Unfortunately this will delay our much anticipated entrance into Costa Rica.
They call me Boddorff the Brilliant.
We just left Ometepe (the amazing island made from two volcanoes) and were
once again reunited with Randal, excitedly packing away our belongings,
when it hit me. Where is my passport? After a quick frantic search, it
became apparent it was not on my person.
Off to an internet cafe to locate the number of our previous hostel and
after a quick call, my fears were confirmed. Where do I leave my
passport? ON AN ISLAND! Just an island? NO! Try an island in the middle
of the largest lake in Central America....made of volcanoes. Do not
worry...only an hour hop from the mainland...
The boat ride, now my third trek, was the strangest yet. Packed on a
smaller, less confident vessel, I was squeezed between an Italian guy and a
crumudgeony Nicaraguan. To spice it up, we hit waves and the boat really
got rocking. Then I felt the water around my feet and really started to
doubt as the wooden hull creaked. The Italian man was very friendly and
even offered me a stick of gum. The Nicaraguan guy showed me his affection
by essentially bodying me off the boat as we arrived, showing little to no
regard for the women and children in my path not to mention personal space.
I am reunited with my long lost passport and am less than an hour away from
my return trip (Boat Ride #4 for those who are keeping track at home).
Unfortunately this will delay our much anticipated entrance into Costa Rica.
They call me Boddorff the Brilliant.
Saturday, July 28
Ometepe: Land of Two Mountains
When we awoke in Masaya, we aimed our golden chariot south and headed for one of Nicarauga's most recognizable landmarks. We targeted the twin volcano island in the middle of Lake Nicarauga called Ometepe. On the way we nighted in Rivas at a cheap but spacious hostel, enjoyed a round of street tacos and desserts in San Juan de Sur, and explored some secluded beaches like Playa Marsella.
Our original plan for Ometepe was to find a tour guide and try to climb one of the intimidating volcanos. Plans changed when Andrew determined that he was feeling a little bit under the weather and we didn't make it to the base of the volcano until 10am (a relatively late time to start the acsent). Instead we decided to rent a stick shift jeep and explore the 20 km island on our own terms. WE. MISSED. RANDAL. FAST.
The jeep was a relic, likely washed up on Ometepe from Jeep's original 1941 series. The clutch was all art, no science. The brakes acted more as a right turn than a stopping mechanism. Cruising at a speed of 15 mph sounded like an avalanche of pots and pans not a road worthy automobile. We sputtered, stalled, and relied heavily on gravity during our tour around the island.
The stops were considerably more successful. We managed to find a french toast breakfast that will be remembered fondly. We swam around some natural mineral springs using a nearby rope swing liberally. We ended the day with a 6 mile hike around the island's isthmus and pennisula. Chanelling my inner Nathan Mishler, I even finished the hike in a run, wearing the same shoes that made the trek up the falls near Morogoro in February. The hike was similar to that one in that local primates lined the trees to cheer us on.
 |
| Ometepe |
The jeep was a relic, likely washed up on Ometepe from Jeep's original 1941 series. The clutch was all art, no science. The brakes acted more as a right turn than a stopping mechanism. Cruising at a speed of 15 mph sounded like an avalanche of pots and pans not a road worthy automobile. We sputtered, stalled, and relied heavily on gravity during our tour around the island.
 |
| Missing Randal |
The stops were considerably more successful. We managed to find a french toast breakfast that will be remembered fondly. We swam around some natural mineral springs using a nearby rope swing liberally. We ended the day with a 6 mile hike around the island's isthmus and pennisula. Chanelling my inner Nathan Mishler, I even finished the hike in a run, wearing the same shoes that made the trek up the falls near Morogoro in February. The hike was similar to that one in that local primates lined the trees to cheer us on.
Quiet Masaya
Staying with Tim's friends in Masaya was an amazing experience. They let us take over their small living room and supplied two mats to pad our dreams. The dwelling and furnishings were modest, but I rather enjoyed the quiet evening. We sat around the front porch in plastic patio furniture as night fell. Andrew and I carried on one conversation in English while our hosts spoke with one another in Spanish. Every ten minutes or so, one party would attempt a simple question in the native langauge of the other group. Most exchanges achieved low levels of comprehension but mercifully commenced with a long loud communal laugh.
There was one member of the family who spoke some English. Between his busy work schedule, he was patient with us and our liberal use of an English to Spanish dictionary. He helped us get to the local market and negotiated with the neighbors to park the car in their curb cut out.
The best part of the stay were the activities that transcended the language barrier. In particular, interactions with the family's 5 year old son, Cedric, proved immensely rewarding. Early play consisted of me attempting to read children's Spanish books that I found around the house while Cedric vehemently scolded my pronunciation. Andrew added physical elements to the fray by starting impromptu games of tag. Our play eventually progressed with Andrew and I acting as monsters guarding the house while Cedric tried to sneak in while we looked away. Each activity drew approval of the adults and made Andrew and I feel as if we had make a new friend without having to rely on commonalities of language.
There was one member of the family who spoke some English. Between his busy work schedule, he was patient with us and our liberal use of an English to Spanish dictionary. He helped us get to the local market and negotiated with the neighbors to park the car in their curb cut out.
The best part of the stay were the activities that transcended the language barrier. In particular, interactions with the family's 5 year old son, Cedric, proved immensely rewarding. Early play consisted of me attempting to read children's Spanish books that I found around the house while Cedric vehemently scolded my pronunciation. Andrew added physical elements to the fray by starting impromptu games of tag. Our play eventually progressed with Andrew and I acting as monsters guarding the house while Cedric tried to sneak in while we looked away. Each activity drew approval of the adults and made Andrew and I feel as if we had make a new friend without having to rely on commonalities of language.
Friday, July 27
Gringo at the Window
The house in Masaya was without address, street name, or description. We knew it was a certain number of blocks from a nearby famous statue and we suspected, based on google maps, that it was 3 blocks beyond a pharmacy and 8 blocks from a cemetary. Our inital approach proved sucessful and we located a house that met all of these criteria. I dailed my cousin Tim (who is very familar with the house) on the sat phone for some further description of the property and some típs for approach. Tim was super helpful. Without a doubt, he confirmed I had found the correct yellow house with two trees, two front doors, and a red tiled front porch.
During my gawking, I had attracted an elderly woman to the front window. The language barrier prevented conversation, but I managed to convince her to take the satelliete phone. It is possible that Tim convinced some random elderly woman I met on the street to let us stay for the evening, but I think it is more likely that Tim knew the woman and kindly alerted her that the stranger who had been lurking outside her house for the last 20 minutes was in fact his illerate cousin. We were invited inside with cries of "Mi Casa, Su Casa."
We used the house as a home base for the remainder of the day. We explored a volcano and met a Spaniard on year 6 of a bike ride from Japan to Brazil. He exchanged his translation services for a car ride up to the top of the volcano.
We also stopped in the colonial town of Granada. We explored the street markets and local food. We learned about other local attractions including a famous turtle nesting site. We are headed to that very site today!
During my gawking, I had attracted an elderly woman to the front window. The language barrier prevented conversation, but I managed to convince her to take the satelliete phone. It is possible that Tim convinced some random elderly woman I met on the street to let us stay for the evening, but I think it is more likely that Tim knew the woman and kindly alerted her that the stranger who had been lurking outside her house for the last 20 minutes was in fact his illerate cousin. We were invited inside with cries of "Mi Casa, Su Casa."
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| Randal pays a visit to Masaya |
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| Our generous hosts |
We used the house as a home base for the remainder of the day. We explored a volcano and met a Spaniard on year 6 of a bike ride from Japan to Brazil. He exchanged his translation services for a car ride up to the top of the volcano.
We also stopped in the colonial town of Granada. We explored the street markets and local food. We learned about other local attractions including a famous turtle nesting site. We are headed to that very site today!
The Fix is in
Not really, but sort of.
Yesterday morning we awoke at our swanky hotel in downtown Managua. A breakfast of fried plantains, beans, eggs, and corn cake was waiting for us in the dinning room. We crushed the first plates we were served, but then disappointed to learn that seconds were not included nor even an option! We gathered up our belonging, enjoyed several fleeting moments of air conditioning and hopped into the car to find the house 30 kilometers out of town in Masaya.
The car did not start.
Luckily, I was ready for exactly this situation. We had been carrying an extra battery ever since we left the nation's capital. We popped in a new one using some of our own tools and a rachet provided by the garage attendant and we were back in action. While we were fixing the battery, I noticed that one of the belts was straight up missing. Immediately, I correlated this to either the A/C outage or the sticky gears. If we were lucky maybe it could be both.
We stopped at a mechanic about 3 miles into the drive and through a series of complex hand gestures, expert replication of car noises, and a breif human pyramid we conveyed the need for a new belt. Although the new belt failed to fix our gears, A/C (and a good amount of sanity) was restored.
Yesterday morning we awoke at our swanky hotel in downtown Managua. A breakfast of fried plantains, beans, eggs, and corn cake was waiting for us in the dinning room. We crushed the first plates we were served, but then disappointed to learn that seconds were not included nor even an option! We gathered up our belonging, enjoyed several fleeting moments of air conditioning and hopped into the car to find the house 30 kilometers out of town in Masaya.
The car did not start.
Luckily, I was ready for exactly this situation. We had been carrying an extra battery ever since we left the nation's capital. We popped in a new one using some of our own tools and a rachet provided by the garage attendant and we were back in action. While we were fixing the battery, I noticed that one of the belts was straight up missing. Immediately, I correlated this to either the A/C outage or the sticky gears. If we were lucky maybe it could be both.
We stopped at a mechanic about 3 miles into the drive and through a series of complex hand gestures, expert replication of car noises, and a breif human pyramid we conveyed the need for a new belt. Although the new belt failed to fix our gears, A/C (and a good amount of sanity) was restored.
Thursday, July 26
El Salvador and Honduras
Car troubles aside, we still covered 600 miles on the winding and often suspect roads of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua over the last two days. We have arrived safely at a swanky hotel complete with swimming pool, steak dinners, internet access, and outdoor patio for the price of 70 USD. Tomorrow we intend to search for our main Nicaragua destination in Masaya, about 30 km from our hotel.
The trimmings of our current lodging look particularly good considering the hole we nighted in yesterday. We stayed in a hotel in Santa Rosa de Lima, El Salvador without air conditioning or general cleanliness. The room was lit by a single 45 watt light bulb. My bed was 25% covered with ceiling and wall fragments reminiscent of recent insect activity. The shower was a single raised spout that shot a single stream of cold water onto bathers. Metal doors and windows kept the room roughly 10 degrees warmer than the 75 degree outdoor temperature. It was pretty miserable, but considering our short stay and lack of options in an unfamiliar town, we had to make due. Sitting in the dark and sweating, Andrew and I reminisced about several of the uncommon sights we spotted from the road so far:
1) A man herding cows from his bicycle (dubbed the lazy shepherd)
2) Women selling foot long lizards suspended from their tails (newt by the foot)
3) Overgrown roads re-lined to accommodate new vegetation (don't hedge your bets)
4) Truck bed carrying horse (if trucks were wishes, more horses would be riding them)
5) Honda Accord containing 8 full grown people and a child (is that a clown car, bro?)
6) Clown (unaccompanied by parade) riding a miniature tricycle
7) Man with hook hand (you've heard of Somali pirates)
The trimmings of our current lodging look particularly good considering the hole we nighted in yesterday. We stayed in a hotel in Santa Rosa de Lima, El Salvador without air conditioning or general cleanliness. The room was lit by a single 45 watt light bulb. My bed was 25% covered with ceiling and wall fragments reminiscent of recent insect activity. The shower was a single raised spout that shot a single stream of cold water onto bathers. Metal doors and windows kept the room roughly 10 degrees warmer than the 75 degree outdoor temperature. It was pretty miserable, but considering our short stay and lack of options in an unfamiliar town, we had to make due. Sitting in the dark and sweating, Andrew and I reminisced about several of the uncommon sights we spotted from the road so far:
1) A man herding cows from his bicycle (dubbed the lazy shepherd)
2) Women selling foot long lizards suspended from their tails (newt by the foot)
3) Overgrown roads re-lined to accommodate new vegetation (don't hedge your bets)
4) Truck bed carrying horse (if trucks were wishes, more horses would be riding them)
5) Honda Accord containing 8 full grown people and a child (is that a clown car, bro?)
6) Clown (unaccompanied by parade) riding a miniature tricycle
7) Man with hook hand (you've heard of Somali pirates)
Nothing to Gear
So we left Panajachel, Guatemala at 6am Monday attempting to make it to my cousin Tim's house in Masaya, Nicaragua over the next two days. We vowed to drive during day light and sleep at the cheapest hostel we could find by nightfall. The first leg was a caravan with Dave and Allison from Panajachel. We thought this would allow for easy cruising. Little did we know how stressful it would become as we started to experience some car problems.
My car began to get caught in 3rd gear. It would progress normally to the highest gear, but when forced to stop due to traffic or the ever frequent speed bump, the whole car would jolt violently and get stuck, failing to downgrade or upgrade out of 3rd gear. Sometimes changes between gears would also be accompanied by an audible loss in belt traction. The gear could be reset by turning the car off. This presented a challenging situation trying to follow Dave and Allison. Every time we slowed, I hurried to shut the car off and restart it. After restarting, I could again get it up to 70 mph and keep up to them at their cruising speed until another big rig or speed bump slowed us down.
In someways, we are lucky to be getting caught in 3rd gear. We can pretty easily cruise at 55mph without too significant a reduction in gas mileage. We can even get Randal up to 65 mph for short distances without overheating! Of course, these mixed blessings were only realized after we made it to El Salvador where Dave, Allison, and their Guatemala plates quickly traversed the border while we were stuck in lines and in front of photocopiers trying to finagle a DC plated sedan across the Rio Paz (the river that separates Guatemala from El Salvador).
This would get worse before they got better though. About 50 miles after the El Salvador border, the air conditioner stopped working. Down went the windows, which provided relief when we were cruising along the Pacific Coast, but little help when we were slowed in towns and villages.
As these problems were occurring, we did what any two non-mechanically inclined individuals would do, we checked all the fluids. The transmission fluid seemed low, so that was first priority. Oil on the other hand, was good to go. Even with these evasive actions, the 3rd gear problem persisted and worsened as we continued the journey. Even after restarting the car, it is no longer possible to progress beyond 3rd gear.
My car began to get caught in 3rd gear. It would progress normally to the highest gear, but when forced to stop due to traffic or the ever frequent speed bump, the whole car would jolt violently and get stuck, failing to downgrade or upgrade out of 3rd gear. Sometimes changes between gears would also be accompanied by an audible loss in belt traction. The gear could be reset by turning the car off. This presented a challenging situation trying to follow Dave and Allison. Every time we slowed, I hurried to shut the car off and restart it. After restarting, I could again get it up to 70 mph and keep up to them at their cruising speed until another big rig or speed bump slowed us down.
In someways, we are lucky to be getting caught in 3rd gear. We can pretty easily cruise at 55mph without too significant a reduction in gas mileage. We can even get Randal up to 65 mph for short distances without overheating! Of course, these mixed blessings were only realized after we made it to El Salvador where Dave, Allison, and their Guatemala plates quickly traversed the border while we were stuck in lines and in front of photocopiers trying to finagle a DC plated sedan across the Rio Paz (the river that separates Guatemala from El Salvador).
This would get worse before they got better though. About 50 miles after the El Salvador border, the air conditioner stopped working. Down went the windows, which provided relief when we were cruising along the Pacific Coast, but little help when we were slowed in towns and villages.
As these problems were occurring, we did what any two non-mechanically inclined individuals would do, we checked all the fluids. The transmission fluid seemed low, so that was first priority. Oil on the other hand, was good to go. Even with these evasive actions, the 3rd gear problem persisted and worsened as we continued the journey. Even after restarting the car, it is no longer possible to progress beyond 3rd gear.
Tuesday, July 24
Final day in Panajachel
Guatemala was supposed to be a 2 day stop. In what is becoming a theme of this journey, there was simply too much to see and do. We needed a bonus third day. The extension was also influenced by two Americans we met, David and Allison. Bright and early on Tuesday they are planning on driving to El Salvador. The combination of a caravan and accompaniment by frequent border crossers at international lines was irresistible. We are due for departure at 6am Tuesday morning.
The bonus day was well spent. We went into town for a Mexican style breakfast including fried eggs, salsa, fried plantains, black beans, salty cheese, and tortillas. Afterwards we caught a tuke-tuke ride to a nature center on the other side of town. The took-took is a three wheeled taxi that fits into all the small alleys around town. One can hitch a ride for 5 Quetzal or 75 cents. While these stand as the chief benefits of the tuke-tuke, this form of transportation possesses several key disadvantages as well. Namely the tuke-tuke is the smallest road-worthy vehicle around (road-worthy may be generous) save the moped. This results in terrifying stare downs with buses and fiats alike.
The nature center was cool. There was a butterfly garden which included lots of reading on the monarch butterfly. This region of Central American is a critical choke-point during the monarch's migration. We were also able to spot out first wild North American primates. The siting revealed the gopro's first weakness. It is not a particularly good camera for capturing distant wildlife. Hopefully we'll be able to get closer in the future.
Perhaps the best part of the nature center though were 8 ziplines set up across one of the ravines surrounding the lake. I could explain more about the experience of riding said ziplines, but I think this video will be worth a couple thousand words.
The bonus day was well spent. We went into town for a Mexican style breakfast including fried eggs, salsa, fried plantains, black beans, salty cheese, and tortillas. Afterwards we caught a tuke-tuke ride to a nature center on the other side of town. The took-took is a three wheeled taxi that fits into all the small alleys around town. One can hitch a ride for 5 Quetzal or 75 cents. While these stand as the chief benefits of the tuke-tuke, this form of transportation possesses several key disadvantages as well. Namely the tuke-tuke is the smallest road-worthy vehicle around (road-worthy may be generous) save the moped. This results in terrifying stare downs with buses and fiats alike.
The nature center was cool. There was a butterfly garden which included lots of reading on the monarch butterfly. This region of Central American is a critical choke-point during the monarch's migration. We were also able to spot out first wild North American primates. The siting revealed the gopro's first weakness. It is not a particularly good camera for capturing distant wildlife. Hopefully we'll be able to get closer in the future.
Perhaps the best part of the nature center though were 8 ziplines set up across one of the ravines surrounding the lake. I could explain more about the experience of riding said ziplines, but I think this video will be worth a couple thousand words.
Monday, July 23
I'm on a Boat (feat. Bodds and G)
If only T-pain were here because our first full day in Panajachel, Guatemala found us waiting in line to get onto a boat party. Pana is a fun, somewhat touristy town on a giant lake surrounded by two volcanoes. There are plenty of "gringos" and people who speak English and form a small community that was powering this aquatic adventure.
Dancing, imbibing, and jumping off the deck (not necessarily in that order) ensued. We made plenty of new friends, with whom we hung out for the rest of the day and night.
The following morning was a slower start than normal due to our good time the previous day, but we still decided to follow our original plan and attempt to hike one of the slumbering giants, named San Pedro, that overlook the lake. After a quick breakfast, we hopped on a public ferry shuttle across the lake to the volcano. Once again on land, we tried to begin the hike, but ended up at dead ends or in family farms. After a few interactions with the locals, we were pointed in the right direction and hiked up the road to the information station where the official trail began. Turns out it costs 100Q (about $8) to climb up the trail and without much cash support, we were unable to oblige.
Instead we continued up the highway, gaining a lovely vista of the lake and its surrounding towns. On the way down the road, we collected bottles on the side of the road and fallen avocados. Avocado bowling was born. Many bets were made and bounces of the ripe, caloric fruit provided a needed excitement to counteract the disappointment of not being able to finish the hike. To further enhance our trip, we ran into a group of local children with, what else, but a FRISBEE! We immediately began throwing it with them and playing. We turned into an amusement park for the kids. They climbed on us, begged us to spin them around, and generally had an amazing time. Greg even put one on the roof (with permission from Madre) to retrieve the lost disc They were adorable and so much fun.
Finally, we caught the tail end of a local soccer game and bumbled around the town searching for our original point of entry. Alas, we were too late and had to catch a new boat back to Pana. The rest of the evening was a welcomed relaxing night.
Dancing, imbibing, and jumping off the deck (not necessarily in that order) ensued. We made plenty of new friends, with whom we hung out for the rest of the day and night.
The following morning was a slower start than normal due to our good time the previous day, but we still decided to follow our original plan and attempt to hike one of the slumbering giants, named San Pedro, that overlook the lake. After a quick breakfast, we hopped on a public ferry shuttle across the lake to the volcano. Once again on land, we tried to begin the hike, but ended up at dead ends or in family farms. After a few interactions with the locals, we were pointed in the right direction and hiked up the road to the information station where the official trail began. Turns out it costs 100Q (about $8) to climb up the trail and without much cash support, we were unable to oblige.
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| San Pedro |
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| The future of Ultimate Frisbee in our arms |
Guatemala Border Crossing
I was sure that the Guatemala border would be a bit of a rude awakening since Mexico had been so incident-free. Leaving Mexico was straight forward enough. A clean cut guy with all the official badges prominently displayed took several photos of Randal, tripled checked the VIN number and returned the $200 dollar security deposit I fronted in Neuvo Laredo. He pointed us around the corner to immigration where we got our exit stamps.
We were surprised to find the it was about a 2 mile drive to the first Guatemalan office. Andrew and I briefly discussed claiming the land as a new country and seeing how long we could fly below the radar. The two miles flew by though and the conversation was for naught.
The crossing at Cuauhtemoc is a narrow street that is bustling with mopeds, street vendors, dogs, colorful balls, armed security guards, and traffic cones. Every 50 feet I had to renegotiate right of way and squeeze between a parked van and an oblivious taco salesman. Inch by inch, I made it up to the fumigation station where the car is sprayed down to prevent the entry of disease carrying insects. Next we stopped at immigration where Andrew's million Quetzal (about $150,000) smile won him this posed photo:
The final stop was the car registry which went pretty smoothly. While we were hassled a little bit by potential expediters and money changers, the narrow congested street was the only real difficult thing about the crossing. The officials were quick and few others seemed to be crossing. This may have had something to due with our late crossing (around 2pm). This came back to bite us as we performed some night driving on unfamiliar and curvy roads in order to make it to our final destination before sleep found us.
We were surprised to find the it was about a 2 mile drive to the first Guatemalan office. Andrew and I briefly discussed claiming the land as a new country and seeing how long we could fly below the radar. The two miles flew by though and the conversation was for naught.
The crossing at Cuauhtemoc is a narrow street that is bustling with mopeds, street vendors, dogs, colorful balls, armed security guards, and traffic cones. Every 50 feet I had to renegotiate right of way and squeeze between a parked van and an oblivious taco salesman. Inch by inch, I made it up to the fumigation station where the car is sprayed down to prevent the entry of disease carrying insects. Next we stopped at immigration where Andrew's million Quetzal (about $150,000) smile won him this posed photo:
The final stop was the car registry which went pretty smoothly. While we were hassled a little bit by potential expediters and money changers, the narrow congested street was the only real difficult thing about the crossing. The officials were quick and few others seemed to be crossing. This may have had something to due with our late crossing (around 2pm). This came back to bite us as we performed some night driving on unfamiliar and curvy roads in order to make it to our final destination before sleep found us.
Friday, July 20
A Night in San Cristobal
Yesterday, we covered about 350 miles during 11 hours of day light, a far cry from the accelerated pace we were able to set in the USA. As night fell, we weren't willing to push driving on the twisted and unfamiliar mountain passes. We wanted to get further, but the driving was getting too nerve racking. We ended up finding a hostel in San Cristobal. The town is 6000 feet above sea level and somewhat of a tourist destination (although I had never heard of it). We enjoyed pizza with garlic and tomato sauces at a restaurant with only two tables run by a group of nuns. We wondered the streets briefly, shocked to find the no vacancies at the first 2 hostels and hotel. Luckily, we found beds at the third hostel.
Today we make a break to the Guatemala border. We intend to get as far as Panajachel where a friend and former coworker of mine lives. The road will continue to wind through the mountains. Randal is in pretty good shape. Some of the low gear stalling I've encountered in DC has gotten a bit worse. (yesterday we stalled 5 times). The brakes have been a bit smelly on the steep mountain roads, but we continue to press forward.
Today we make a break to the Guatemala border. We intend to get as far as Panajachel where a friend and former coworker of mine lives. The road will continue to wind through the mountains. Randal is in pretty good shape. Some of the low gear stalling I've encountered in DC has gotten a bit worse. (yesterday we stalled 5 times). The brakes have been a bit smelly on the steep mountain roads, but we continue to press forward.
Foods of Oaxaca
In addition to ornate clothing, Pacific beaches, and scenic mountains, Oaxaca is touted throughout Mexico as a premier food destination. During our two days in the city, Andrew and I made sure to check out the local delicacies.
Piedrazo-
Hardened bread dipped into pickled cabbage and carrots and then placed into a baggy with cheese, chiles, and potatoes for easy transport
Piedrazo is a common street food in Oaxaca. Andrew and I split a bag during the heat of the day and sweated out the spicy dish. We concluded that the mix of sour, spicy, and crunchy was balanced well but better suited for sitting at a table than carrying around the city streets.
Atole-
A warm ground corn and chocolate drink
Atole is on sale all over the markets of Oaxaca and specially suited for cool mountain nights. Its flavor is mild, but my tongue couldn't quite get used to the texture of corn (a starchy cornmeal grit) with the flavor of chocolate.
Grasshoppers-
Grasshoppers seemingly hit with a splash of vinegar and a dash of salt and chiles
Probably the most famous of the Oaxaca foods, I was being goaded into eating Oaxaca grasshoppers as soon as I crossed the Texas border. They were crunchy and salty and a fine snack once you got over the fact that you were eating an insect. If there is any problem it may be that they are too salty, but I'll give a free pass. I assume the generous portion of salt hides the grasshopper's true flavor.
Mole-
A sauce composed of chocolate, butter or lard, chiles, slow cooked tomatoes and chicken broth served over chicken.
I was very excited for this dish since I always suspected Mexican restaurants in the US weren't getting mole sauce completely right. Oaxaca offered two varieties, red and black. The black proved too chocolatey for me, but the red was exquisite. The chiles and chocolate balanced well and the tomatoes and chicken broth kept the sauce light. I'll be bringing home a bunch of the chocolate in an attempt to recreate.
Stone Soup-
A seafood and fish soup cooked by adding near red hot stones to individual servings of stew. The broth is flavored by lime, cilantro, and fresh oregano.
The stone soup had a novel cooking process and a fantastic flavor. Bone-in fish and head-on shrimp helped develop an irresistible broth. Anyone who has seen me cook knows my obsession with citrus, so the lime and cilantro played to my palate. My only complaint was that the cooking process made it hard to control how well done the seafood got. Here's a video of the chef at work.
Mexico Reflexico
As we drive away from our first port of harbor, Mexico, a reflective mood has filled the car. What have we learned? What true-isms can we inaccurately draw from our biased data set?
Mexican Hospitality: Our hosts have been good to us. Too good to us. They chauffeured us around. They would rush home to meet us regardless of the time. Truly, "Mi casa, su casa."
Not a one night stand: We saw as many sights as we could in a short span of time, cutting sleep and making the most of each day. Nonetheless, we were unable to do it all. We were constantly reminded that we were missing something and there would be more to do the next time we visit Mexico.
Street Tacos: Are awesome.
All the Hype: The picture of Mexico painted by US media contains exaggeration. Granted, we didn't see it all and only stayed 9 days, but we did not see any violence or feel unsafe at any point. Our hosts were of a similar mindset.
Suggestive Signs: Traffic laws are suggestions. Red lights mean to look both ways (particularly Mexico City). No parking, no passing, and stop signs mean little. Aggressive driving isn't a problem, rather the solution.
Everything Must Go: It did not matter if it was on a bus, the metro, the street, or while driving at 5 MPH. Home-made mix tapes broadcasted from backpack speakers, snacks, and throat lozenges were always available. Begging was surprisingly scarce, but the pediatrics peddling purchasables, teenagers trading trinkets, and geezers grifting goods were ever present.
You get what you pay for: Four batteries for under a $1 means it will last four pictures. Two pens for 25 cents means it won't really write when you need, but rather ruin your more expensive pair of pants by exploding in the pocket... Having goods available at every corner (see above) is a blessing and a curse.
Mexican Hospitality: Our hosts have been good to us. Too good to us. They chauffeured us around. They would rush home to meet us regardless of the time. Truly, "Mi casa, su casa."
Not a one night stand: We saw as many sights as we could in a short span of time, cutting sleep and making the most of each day. Nonetheless, we were unable to do it all. We were constantly reminded that we were missing something and there would be more to do the next time we visit Mexico.
Street Tacos: Are awesome.
All the Hype: The picture of Mexico painted by US media contains exaggeration. Granted, we didn't see it all and only stayed 9 days, but we did not see any violence or feel unsafe at any point. Our hosts were of a similar mindset.
Suggestive Signs: Traffic laws are suggestions. Red lights mean to look both ways (particularly Mexico City). No parking, no passing, and stop signs mean little. Aggressive driving isn't a problem, rather the solution.
Everything Must Go: It did not matter if it was on a bus, the metro, the street, or while driving at 5 MPH. Home-made mix tapes broadcasted from backpack speakers, snacks, and throat lozenges were always available. Begging was surprisingly scarce, but the pediatrics peddling purchasables, teenagers trading trinkets, and geezers grifting goods were ever present.
You get what you pay for: Four batteries for under a $1 means it will last four pictures. Two pens for 25 cents means it won't really write when you need, but rather ruin your more expensive pair of pants by exploding in the pocket... Having goods available at every corner (see above) is a blessing and a curse.
Thursday, July 19
Rocking Oaxaca
Do not be fooled by our first impressions of Oaxaca. Day 2 changed our perceptions faster than getting kicked out of a Mexico City taxi for pronouncing Mixcoac as "Mix-Cock" (its Misx-gauc). Part of the shift was due to again meeting up with Alheli who offered to host us at her parents house 10 miles west of Oaxaca. She assembled an elite line-up of cathedrals, ruins, markets, and restaurants that wowed us from sun up to sun down.
The day started with a smaller set of ruins in a town called Mitla. We were the first ones on the scene which allowed us to explore in the early morning dew. We were some of the first ones to explore the corridors and descend into the tombs. The ruins remained uncrowded for the duration of our stay which was refreshing given the insane crowds witnessed at Teotihaucan. We also explored another Zapoteca site at Yagul. It was significantly larger and better restored. It was cool to see ruins in different states of restoration.
We spent the duration of daylight dodging thunderstorms in local markets where we ate crickets, flan, and every fruit we were unable to identify. In the center of one of the markets was a 2000 year old tree. The locals have assigned each knob and crooked branch of the tree an animal likeness. Andrew and I engaged in a hotly contested game to guess the representative animal before Alheli revealed it to us. The results are still pending a judgement on whether guessing ostrich counts for the knob assigned turkey.
A shot of Mescal (a local smokey flavored Tequila variety) will be waiting at 121 New York Ave for the first to correctly guess the animal represented by the knob pictured below:
The day started with a smaller set of ruins in a town called Mitla. We were the first ones on the scene which allowed us to explore in the early morning dew. We were some of the first ones to explore the corridors and descend into the tombs. The ruins remained uncrowded for the duration of our stay which was refreshing given the insane crowds witnessed at Teotihaucan. We also explored another Zapoteca site at Yagul. It was significantly larger and better restored. It was cool to see ruins in different states of restoration.
We spent the duration of daylight dodging thunderstorms in local markets where we ate crickets, flan, and every fruit we were unable to identify. In the center of one of the markets was a 2000 year old tree. The locals have assigned each knob and crooked branch of the tree an animal likeness. Andrew and I engaged in a hotly contested game to guess the representative animal before Alheli revealed it to us. The results are still pending a judgement on whether guessing ostrich counts for the knob assigned turkey.
A shot of Mescal (a local smokey flavored Tequila variety) will be waiting at 121 New York Ave for the first to correctly guess the animal represented by the knob pictured below:
Tuesday, July 17
Oaxaca Bound
Today we headed south to Oaxaca, the home of the mole sauce. While we started to enjoy the streets of seemingly small Oaxaca (everything seems small after leaving the largest city in the Western Hemisphere) the drive itself stole the show.
We climbed to over 10,000 feet above sea level in mighty Randal stopping at scenic overlooks and deep gullies. It felt as if we could reach up and touch the clouds. Even though lightning struck off in the distance, the weather for the majority of the drive was superb. We hit some pretty frustrating traffic in Puebla, but a certain special broadcast of the pirated radio broadcast "Echo" hosted by Jeremy Vaida pulled us through.
Once we arrived in Oaxaca, quite frankly we were disappointed. All we heard in Mexico City was about the amazing food Oaxaca had to offer. We stopped in a cafe and had lack luster cheesecake and corn bread. We stopped in a taco shop and were disappointed by the offerings. Hopefully we'll have better luck tomorrow. I also hope to squeeze in a home game of the local baseball team, the Oaxaca Warriors. More updates are in store after tomorrow's exploration!
We climbed to over 10,000 feet above sea level in mighty Randal stopping at scenic overlooks and deep gullies. It felt as if we could reach up and touch the clouds. Even though lightning struck off in the distance, the weather for the majority of the drive was superb. We hit some pretty frustrating traffic in Puebla, but a certain special broadcast of the pirated radio broadcast "Echo" hosted by Jeremy Vaida pulled us through.
Once we arrived in Oaxaca, quite frankly we were disappointed. All we heard in Mexico City was about the amazing food Oaxaca had to offer. We stopped in a cafe and had lack luster cheesecake and corn bread. We stopped in a taco shop and were disappointed by the offerings. Hopefully we'll have better luck tomorrow. I also hope to squeeze in a home game of the local baseball team, the Oaxaca Warriors. More updates are in store after tomorrow's exploration!
Monday, July 16
Bus Entertainment
While we are on the road today, enjoy some of the same entertainment we experienced yesterday. This is a little video of the guitarist who played on our bus ride to Teotihuacan;
Youtube Bus Video
Youtube Bus Video
Teotihuacan Ruins
We came, we saw, we conquered. Mexico City didn't stand a chance. My passive driving skills learned in the hills of Kempton quickly evolved into savvy, offense-is-the-best-defense tactics. Andrew's ability to give workable instructions to Mexican cab drivers increased. Our homebrewing skills saw dramatic improvement based on the quality of the hard cider currently fermenting in the trunk.
The highlight of the Mexico City though was definitely the pyramids at Teotihuacan. We ventured about an hour and a half bus ride out of downtown to visit this tourist haven. Upon leaving the city, the haze and cloud cover that has defined our stay opened into a beautiful day. The bus pulled up to an amazing scene. The ancient city was reanimated by an army of tourists blowing whistles and shooting toy bows and arrows. People mobbed the steps of 2200 year old 233 feet high stone temples searching for the coolest breeze or best view. We breathed it in and learned about the diversity of the Central American natives. The information presented at the ruins was geared particularly toward manifestations of God that related to water. This was good foreshadowing for the return to downtown where darker clouds and rain awaited us.
Our spirits could not be dampened though as we went out to dinner with our star host, David and superb city guide, Alheli. I can't really say enough about how integral a part of our stay in Mexico City they have been. They've opened up their homes, introduced us to family and friends, and given us great recommendations about how to fill our days. Andrew says it best when he proclaims his favorite thing about traveling is making generous and caring acquaintances that reaffirm his faith in the goodness of people.
The meal we shared on this evening was spectacular. We boned up on Mexican cuisine with an appetizer of cow penis. Alheli wouldn't tell us what we were eating until we had already tried it to make sure we would get squeamish. The main course consisted of three different types of steak grilled in the center of our table. We removed the steak piece by piece and sealed it in corn tortillas and three different salsas.
We are working on uploading some videos to youtube including a Mexican street and bus performer entertaining on the guitar and Andrew getting shot with a toy bow and arrow. We may need to wait for some faster internet to finish these uploads though.
The highlight of the Mexico City though was definitely the pyramids at Teotihuacan. We ventured about an hour and a half bus ride out of downtown to visit this tourist haven. Upon leaving the city, the haze and cloud cover that has defined our stay opened into a beautiful day. The bus pulled up to an amazing scene. The ancient city was reanimated by an army of tourists blowing whistles and shooting toy bows and arrows. People mobbed the steps of 2200 year old 233 feet high stone temples searching for the coolest breeze or best view. We breathed it in and learned about the diversity of the Central American natives. The information presented at the ruins was geared particularly toward manifestations of God that related to water. This was good foreshadowing for the return to downtown where darker clouds and rain awaited us.
The meal we shared on this evening was spectacular. We boned up on Mexican cuisine with an appetizer of cow penis. Alheli wouldn't tell us what we were eating until we had already tried it to make sure we would get squeamish. The main course consisted of three different types of steak grilled in the center of our table. We removed the steak piece by piece and sealed it in corn tortillas and three different salsas.
We are working on uploading some videos to youtube including a Mexican street and bus performer entertaining on the guitar and Andrew getting shot with a toy bow and arrow. We may need to wait for some faster internet to finish these uploads though.
Saturday, July 14
The Meet Up 2: Kahlo Me Impressed
Waking early on Friday, my birthday, I got some breakfast and went to an internet cafe to see what had happened after the previous nights failure. Greg had e-mailed me that through a series of traffic, rain, and uncooperative taxi cab drivers, he had missed out meet up, but was at David's house. He also noted that he would try to be online at 10AM, so I waited around on the interwebs, though 10:30AM rolled around and I didn't want to waste the day. I told Greg I was going to Mexico City and that he should reply back with meet up details. I also considered telling him my real plan that I would wait one more day then go to Costa Rica...
I hopped on a bus, traveling the reverse of what I did before. Upon arriving in Mexico City, I searched for an internet cafe and received Greg's reply. Of all the possible spots and times, I found the most feasible one to be at the Frida Kahlo museum. I arrived slightly after they were intending to visit the museum and quickly hustled through the different gallery rooms. Eventually, after near misses and communication failures, there stood Mr. Greg Esser. I casually slid up next to him as he admired one of Frida's beautiful paintings and said "Bueno". He slowly turned around, looked surprised and offered a giant hug. I think it hit us that without cell phones, meeting up with people is not trivial, especially in a new place with a different language and a population of 23 million).
We spent the rest of the day cruising around the city sight seeing with our great native friend Alheli who entertained us and made our visit fantastic. For dinner, we were dropped off at David's house where we promptly left to go to a friend's house for drinks and food. His friends and family were very fun people (most with fantastic english) and there were a lot of laughs and merriment.
As it grew later and we grew hungrier, we braved the rain for some food. We walk around the corner to a taco stand that was set up on the side of the road with a tent over it. Now, standing under a tent, chowing down on tacos, laughing with our new Mexican friends in the rain, I felt like I was finally in Mexico.
For the night's activities, we were brought to a place called the Patrick Miller Club. This was indeed a strange place. To enter, you must buy a poker chip and present it to the bouncer as your pass in. Once inside, the bass was so loud you could feel in your chest and there were laser lights everywhere. Yet, this was no normal night club. Instead, the practice here was that in the crowd, circles are formed and two competitors have dance offs in the middle. Here's a link to a video of a typical dance off.
They are serious too. There are semi-bouncers to keep the circle from collapsing into chaos. I was told that the contenders will practice their routines before hand in front of mirrors. It seemed difficult to squeeze into the circle, but of course, I wanted to give it a go, but despite my dancing into the circle, the contender I was trying to push out was too in the zone and didn't budge. Mexico wasn't ready for my hips anyway....
I hopped on a bus, traveling the reverse of what I did before. Upon arriving in Mexico City, I searched for an internet cafe and received Greg's reply. Of all the possible spots and times, I found the most feasible one to be at the Frida Kahlo museum. I arrived slightly after they were intending to visit the museum and quickly hustled through the different gallery rooms. Eventually, after near misses and communication failures, there stood Mr. Greg Esser. I casually slid up next to him as he admired one of Frida's beautiful paintings and said "Bueno". He slowly turned around, looked surprised and offered a giant hug. I think it hit us that without cell phones, meeting up with people is not trivial, especially in a new place with a different language and a population of 23 million).
 |
| Greg and our lovely friend Alheli. |
 |
| Our new amigos! |
For the night's activities, we were brought to a place called the Patrick Miller Club. This was indeed a strange place. To enter, you must buy a poker chip and present it to the bouncer as your pass in. Once inside, the bass was so loud you could feel in your chest and there were laser lights everywhere. Yet, this was no normal night club. Instead, the practice here was that in the crowd, circles are formed and two competitors have dance offs in the middle. Here's a link to a video of a typical dance off.
They are serious too. There are semi-bouncers to keep the circle from collapsing into chaos. I was told that the contenders will practice their routines before hand in front of mirrors. It seemed difficult to squeeze into the circle, but of course, I wanted to give it a go, but despite my dancing into the circle, the contender I was trying to push out was too in the zone and didn't budge. Mexico wasn't ready for my hips anyway....
 |
| The Patrick Miller Club, a very traditional Spanish name. |
The Meet Up
So you've heard Greg's border crossing tale, now for the other half. I left San Antonio via a plane at 11:30, arriving in Mexico City two hours later. I quickly passed through customs and hopped in a certified cab to one of the hostel address I had written down. I checked into a nice hostel downtown and went site seeing around the historical district and checked out a few museums.The adventure part started the next day when I was supposed to meet Greg at the pre-arranged meeting spot (seen above). Evidently more pre-arranging was needed. I had written down that we were to meet at 7PM in the town of Toluca, about an hour west of the city. I used the metro, which is easy to use and fantastic, and then caught the bus out to Toluca. Along the way, I finally got to see how sprawling the city is, including the slums. Quite a sight.
Finally, arriving in Toluca a few hours early, I hopped into an internet cafe, shot an e-mail to Greg and texted the satellite phone to indicate that I was waiting to meet him with open arms. I asked a few locals if I was in the correct location and they all assured me that I was. Starting at 6:30 like a lion walking its den, I started to do laps around the bus terminal, both in and outside, with my big duffel bag.
Finding Greg would not be challenging, but identifying David, our host in Mexico City, would be the more sticky issue. With that in mind, I was scanning the crowds as I prowled my bus terminal, trying to make eye contact with those who looked like they were waiting for someone. Eventually, I made eye contact with a young Mexican male and we both held it for a bit as we walked by each other. He glanced back at me and I at him. I decided to approach him to see if it was David. I greeted him and asked if he was David and he exclaimed, "Si!" I thought it would easy sailing from there. Upon further questioning, the looks became more perturbed. It became clear that his grasp of the English language was more limited than mine of Spanish, which is saying something. I decided that the easiest way to get to the bottom of this was to go onto google translator and type messages back and forth. The conversation that followed was this:
(As I typed, David, sitting a foot away, just stared at me and blinked a lot)
Me: I am looking for my friend Greg Esser and was supposed to meet David Inda.
David: What is "Inda"?
Me: Sorry! You must not be the friend I was looking for. Thank you anyway!
David: I can be your friend...
I got up and left. However, he and his friend must have decided the bus station was the place to be, so in the next 2 hours of pacing the station, there were a lot of awkward waves and avoiding of eye contact.
As dusk settled, I realized the rendezvous was a failure, booked a room, and went to bed to await attempt number 2.
Thursday, July 12
Driving with Leigh
I was lucky for the drive to San Miguel de Allende. Through a series of contacts on the internet, I got connected with man from Brooklyn via Chapel Hill who was also making the drive today. Leigh had made the journey before and allowed me to sit back and relax, following him while he made familiar turns in the Mexican highlands.
The one challenge to driving with Leigh was his pace. He mentioned during a phone conversation prior to meeting, that once he gets to Mexico, he "likes to lock it in at 80." I rarely get Randal up to 80, but knew that the V6 could handle the challenge. What I did not know, is that Leigh's minimum speed is 80 mph and he hovers between 80 and 90 much of the time. This upped the ante as we climbed to 7,000 feet above sea level. None-the-less, I was able to keep up and even earned a remark from his wife that I had passed the test-- I was allowed to stay with them or drive with them again since I had kept up so well.
Our speed got me to thinking about the rumors I have heard about Mexican cops extracting bribes and inventing bogus tickets for tourists. We saw police, but didn't slow down much and went unhindered. Seriously, we were driving 140 kms per hour through areas marked as low as 80. Maybe cops should just worry about enforcing the laws that are on the books rather than the driving shirtless ticket one of my trip consultants was threatened.
I also got a rude awakening during the drive when we stopped for gas. After I had stepped out of my car and started talking to Leigh, one of the attendants (Mexico is just like Jersey in its full service policy) frantically tried to get my attention to examine the numbers on the pump. I think it showed 15 liters of gas pumped. I wasn't really sure what he was trying to convey and given the language barrier told him that it was fine. After my car was topped off, the pump read 30 liters of gas with a price tag of 300 pesos ($21). The attendant proceeded to charge me 450 pesos charging me for the first 15 liters as well. Much was lost in translation, but I ended up paying the 450 pesos even though I came into the station already toting a half tank of gas. I really don't think I got the first 15 that was apparently charged to me, but there was not much to do since I couldn't directly debate it and he had showed me something peculiar prior to filling the 30 liters. I'm pretty sure I got ripped off, but at least it was only 10 bucks to remind me how attentive one must stay where poverty is more widespread.
The one challenge to driving with Leigh was his pace. He mentioned during a phone conversation prior to meeting, that once he gets to Mexico, he "likes to lock it in at 80." I rarely get Randal up to 80, but knew that the V6 could handle the challenge. What I did not know, is that Leigh's minimum speed is 80 mph and he hovers between 80 and 90 much of the time. This upped the ante as we climbed to 7,000 feet above sea level. None-the-less, I was able to keep up and even earned a remark from his wife that I had passed the test-- I was allowed to stay with them or drive with them again since I had kept up so well.
Our speed got me to thinking about the rumors I have heard about Mexican cops extracting bribes and inventing bogus tickets for tourists. We saw police, but didn't slow down much and went unhindered. Seriously, we were driving 140 kms per hour through areas marked as low as 80. Maybe cops should just worry about enforcing the laws that are on the books rather than the driving shirtless ticket one of my trip consultants was threatened.
I also got a rude awakening during the drive when we stopped for gas. After I had stepped out of my car and started talking to Leigh, one of the attendants (Mexico is just like Jersey in its full service policy) frantically tried to get my attention to examine the numbers on the pump. I think it showed 15 liters of gas pumped. I wasn't really sure what he was trying to convey and given the language barrier told him that it was fine. After my car was topped off, the pump read 30 liters of gas with a price tag of 300 pesos ($21). The attendant proceeded to charge me 450 pesos charging me for the first 15 liters as well. Much was lost in translation, but I ended up paying the 450 pesos even though I came into the station already toting a half tank of gas. I really don't think I got the first 15 that was apparently charged to me, but there was not much to do since I couldn't directly debate it and he had showed me something peculiar prior to filling the 30 liters. I'm pretty sure I got ripped off, but at least it was only 10 bucks to remind me how attentive one must stay where poverty is more widespread.
At the Mexico Border
I completed another leg of the trip today by driving from San Antonio to San Miguel de Allende. This trip was another 714 miles. Since Monday, Randal has covered 2,317 miles. In these three days, I have put enough miles on the spirit to equal 3.8% of the mileage accumulated during the 17 years Kutztown native Clarence Rahn owned the car. Put another way: Clarence averaged the mileage of our three day trip every 232 days.
The drive itself was very pleasant. Texas was humid and rainy, but after I crossed the border, blue skies and an 80 degree day developed. The scene at the border was entertaining. A group of 5 Mexican guardsmen, one armed, enveloped my car. I stepped out into their semi-circle of Spanish chatter and laughter. I was later informed by the lone English-speaker of the group that my car was not a "Gringo car" and that they thought I might have stolen it from a Mexican. Between the ownership questions and my ragged appearance in ripped jeans, white t-shirt, and truckers hat, a full scale drug search began. Other cars around me were not subject to this process. First, I led the team on a full cavity search of the Dodge even looking under the hood where hoses and tubes were prodded and poked (again, no other cars had their hoods opened). Next, came the drug sniffing dog and a series of questions vaguely addressing 'smoking' habits.
Perhaps the best part of the search though occurred when I left my keys in the trunk while the rest of the car was locked. At first I became flustered and unable to conjure the eventual contingency plan. After the first bead of sweat formed on my brow though, I calmly walked to passenger door remembering my defunct power windows and effortlessly slide down the window from the outside to open the door from the inside. The inspectors loved it and gave me looks ranging from approval to shock.
The drive itself was very pleasant. Texas was humid and rainy, but after I crossed the border, blue skies and an 80 degree day developed. The scene at the border was entertaining. A group of 5 Mexican guardsmen, one armed, enveloped my car. I stepped out into their semi-circle of Spanish chatter and laughter. I was later informed by the lone English-speaker of the group that my car was not a "Gringo car" and that they thought I might have stolen it from a Mexican. Between the ownership questions and my ragged appearance in ripped jeans, white t-shirt, and truckers hat, a full scale drug search began. Other cars around me were not subject to this process. First, I led the team on a full cavity search of the Dodge even looking under the hood where hoses and tubes were prodded and poked (again, no other cars had their hoods opened). Next, came the drug sniffing dog and a series of questions vaguely addressing 'smoking' habits.
Perhaps the best part of the search though occurred when I left my keys in the trunk while the rest of the car was locked. At first I became flustered and unable to conjure the eventual contingency plan. After the first bead of sweat formed on my brow though, I calmly walked to passenger door remembering my defunct power windows and effortlessly slide down the window from the outside to open the door from the inside. The inspectors loved it and gave me looks ranging from approval to shock.
Tuesday, July 10
Learning How to Use a GoPro
Pop-Survivor
After about 6 hours of isolation with someone, the conversation topics eventually start to succumb to cheap gimmicks. Enter Pop-Survivor: 7 of the current (this term was stretched slightly) pop hits were selected to compete in said event. After listening through each song, a short discussion period occurred followed by the vote to dismiss a song from the list. Those who were no eliminated, advanced to the next round, where they were listened to again, with another to be removed until only one Pop Champion remained!
The seven songs were:
Justin Bieber - One Less Lonely Girl
Brittany Spears - I Wanna Go
Cher Lloyd - Want You Back
Carly Rae Jepsen - Call me Maybe
Adam Levine - Moves Like Jagger
Nicki Minaj - Super Bass
Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks
Round 1: Brittany's "I Wanna Go" turned into "I want it to go" after the first listen. Brittany can't hang with today's pop hits.
Round 2: The least upbeat song in the group saw the dismissal next, as "Pumped Up Kicks" had a catchy chorus, but the dull verses and strange lyrical content made it the obvious choice. The song had a small glimmer of hope when halfway through a chorus Andrew tried to convince Greg that he was saying "faster than my bucket" instead of bullet. This lead to many Mr. Bucket references and laughter. Alas even the comedic values of Mr. Bucket, couldn't keep this contender from being thrown down the proverbial pop well.
Round 3: We were ready to make moves... like Jagger? Does Jagger have moves? This song lost value each round and eventually became white noise as we waiting to get back to the real hits.
Round 4: Greg put it best, "Here is where the rubber meets the road." In the face of four mega-pop hits, the repetitious ramble of, "Here's my number, so call me maybe" was defeated. Don't get us wrong, that damn song has haunted our audio cortex as much as the next person, but have you ever listened to it four times in a row? Four times. THERE AREN'T REALLY VERSES! We even tried to rescue it by replacing our falsetto cries with guttural low-bass singing, much to our amusement. It was like the first piece of candy you eat on Halloween, quickly turned to the 33rd, when your tongue starts hurting, your feet are sore, you have multiple cavities, and gained diabetes. "Call Me Maybe" was too sweet for its own good.
Round 5: With three contenders left, we both felt in the bass of our hearts what song would be booming to victory. This left a battle for third place between Bieber and Lloyd. After a near first round ending, "Want You Back" took a big turn around as her anger became seen as an asset in a sea of Yeahs and Woos! Furthermore, the unique twist of a female in the stereotypically masculine role described in her song won us over more and more each round. Unfortunately, all the growth was not enough to escape elimination in round 5 when her youth could not match the innocence of Biebs and her accent couldn't match the stylings of Minaj.
Round 6: If the heavy handed foreshadowing of Round 5 did not reveal the second place contestant, "One Less Lonely Girl" ironically left Minaj alone at the top. Bieber followed a unique path. It was rarely a favorite during a round, but rather a much needed oasis from the never ending flashing and pulsing of the "POParrazi". Add in his somewhat complex layering of vocal tracks, this song was mildly interesting. Most surprisingly to us, the lyrical meanings hidden in the song was one of the sources of staying power throughout the competition. Is Bieber trying to convince her to come back to him after a break up? Is she recovering from another break-up? Is she depressed? The mystery needed solving and allowed it to survive to the final round.
Crowning the Champ- Nicki Minaj's Superbass combines three different feels into one song granting repeatability that can't be rivaled from this group of pop-sters. From the rap, to the pop chorus, to the cool down ending, Minaj shows eclectic and magnetic diversity. Nicki also provided unexpected education with each progressing round. Whether it was the easy to pick up Pelican Fly in round 1 or the subtler stacks on deck from round 5, we felt like Nicki was letting us grow within the confines of this masterpiece. For Andrew, a key selling point was the likening of the Boom ba boom ba boom of the chorus to the beating of his own heart. All in all, Nicki is a deserving Queen of this pop hitz list.
The seven songs were:
Justin Bieber - One Less Lonely Girl
Brittany Spears - I Wanna Go
Cher Lloyd - Want You Back
Carly Rae Jepsen - Call me Maybe
Adam Levine - Moves Like Jagger
Nicki Minaj - Super Bass
Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks
Round 1: Brittany's "I Wanna Go" turned into "I want it to go" after the first listen. Brittany can't hang with today's pop hits.
Round 2: The least upbeat song in the group saw the dismissal next, as "Pumped Up Kicks" had a catchy chorus, but the dull verses and strange lyrical content made it the obvious choice. The song had a small glimmer of hope when halfway through a chorus Andrew tried to convince Greg that he was saying "faster than my bucket" instead of bullet. This lead to many Mr. Bucket references and laughter. Alas even the comedic values of Mr. Bucket, couldn't keep this contender from being thrown down the proverbial pop well.
Round 3: We were ready to make moves... like Jagger? Does Jagger have moves? This song lost value each round and eventually became white noise as we waiting to get back to the real hits.
Round 4: Greg put it best, "Here is where the rubber meets the road." In the face of four mega-pop hits, the repetitious ramble of, "Here's my number, so call me maybe" was defeated. Don't get us wrong, that damn song has haunted our audio cortex as much as the next person, but have you ever listened to it four times in a row? Four times. THERE AREN'T REALLY VERSES! We even tried to rescue it by replacing our falsetto cries with guttural low-bass singing, much to our amusement. It was like the first piece of candy you eat on Halloween, quickly turned to the 33rd, when your tongue starts hurting, your feet are sore, you have multiple cavities, and gained diabetes. "Call Me Maybe" was too sweet for its own good.
Round 5: With three contenders left, we both felt in the bass of our hearts what song would be booming to victory. This left a battle for third place between Bieber and Lloyd. After a near first round ending, "Want You Back" took a big turn around as her anger became seen as an asset in a sea of Yeahs and Woos! Furthermore, the unique twist of a female in the stereotypically masculine role described in her song won us over more and more each round. Unfortunately, all the growth was not enough to escape elimination in round 5 when her youth could not match the innocence of Biebs and her accent couldn't match the stylings of Minaj.
Round 6: If the heavy handed foreshadowing of Round 5 did not reveal the second place contestant, "One Less Lonely Girl" ironically left Minaj alone at the top. Bieber followed a unique path. It was rarely a favorite during a round, but rather a much needed oasis from the never ending flashing and pulsing of the "POParrazi". Add in his somewhat complex layering of vocal tracks, this song was mildly interesting. Most surprisingly to us, the lyrical meanings hidden in the song was one of the sources of staying power throughout the competition. Is Bieber trying to convince her to come back to him after a break up? Is she recovering from another break-up? Is she depressed? The mystery needed solving and allowed it to survive to the final round.
Crowning the Champ- Nicki Minaj's Superbass combines three different feels into one song granting repeatability that can't be rivaled from this group of pop-sters. From the rap, to the pop chorus, to the cool down ending, Minaj shows eclectic and magnetic diversity. Nicki also provided unexpected education with each progressing round. Whether it was the easy to pick up Pelican Fly in round 1 or the subtler stacks on deck from round 5, we felt like Nicki was letting us grow within the confines of this masterpiece. For Andrew, a key selling point was the likening of the Boom ba boom ba boom of the chorus to the beating of his own heart. All in all, Nicki is a deserving Queen of this pop hitz list.
5 Lists of 5
We tried to act as keen observers during our first day of travel. Given our predisposition to numbers and quantifying the natural world. I present 5 lists of 5:
Top 5 Wafflehouse States:
1. Mississippi: 9
2. Alabama: 7
3. Louisiana: 6
4. Tennessee: 4
5. Virginia: 3
Top 5 Gas Millage Tanks:
1. Andrew- Virginia to Alabama: 26.7 MPG
2. Andrew- Texas to Texas: 25.6 MPG
3. Greg- Texas to Texas: 25.5 MPG
4. Greg- Mississippi to Texas: 25.2 MPG
5. Greg- Alabama to Mississippi: 25.0 MPG
Top 5 Gentlemen Club Names:
1. Mouse's Ear
2. The Furnace
3. Lion's Den
4. Wild Zebra
5. Erotica
Top 5 Town Names:
1. Yazoo City, MS
2. Chunky, MS
3. Arkadelphia, AL
4. Quitman, MS
5. Gutterville, AL
Top 5 Tracks from 7/9 and 7/10
1. Panama by Van Halen (Thanks Andy Fogel!)
2. Drive it like you stole it by Glitch Mob (Thanks Jake Horwath!)
3. Highway to Hell by AC/DC (Thanks Andy Fogel!)
4. Younger Us by Japandroids (Thanks Ben Turner!)
5. Super Bass by Nicki Minaj
Top 5 Wafflehouse States:
1. Mississippi: 9
2. Alabama: 7
3. Louisiana: 6
4. Tennessee: 4
5. Virginia: 3
Top 5 Gas Millage Tanks:
1. Andrew- Virginia to Alabama: 26.7 MPG
2. Andrew- Texas to Texas: 25.6 MPG
3. Greg- Texas to Texas: 25.5 MPG
4. Greg- Mississippi to Texas: 25.2 MPG
5. Greg- Alabama to Mississippi: 25.0 MPG
Top 5 Gentlemen Club Names:
1. Mouse's Ear
2. The Furnace
3. Lion's Den
4. Wild Zebra
5. Erotica
Top 5 Town Names:
1. Yazoo City, MS
2. Chunky, MS
3. Arkadelphia, AL
4. Quitman, MS
5. Gutterville, AL
Top 5 Tracks from 7/9 and 7/10
1. Panama by Van Halen (Thanks Andy Fogel!)
2. Drive it like you stole it by Glitch Mob (Thanks Jake Horwath!)
3. Highway to Hell by AC/DC (Thanks Andy Fogel!)
4. Younger Us by Japandroids (Thanks Ben Turner!)
5. Super Bass by Nicki Minaj
1600 Miles in a Day
The adventure started off in whirlwind fashion. A 4th of July Celebration (on July 7th) at the Esser home in Pennsylvania bled into the return trip to DC. We spent most of Sunday making final contact with the people offering us lodging and advice during our travels. At 7am, we rose in DC with an ambitious plan to get to San Antonio in the 26 hours estimated on googlemaps.
We compartmentalized the trunk using cardboard boxes obtained at Safeway. We made egg and pasta salad to avoid any stops that weren't mandated by refueling. We photocopied important documents that would be needed during bordering crossing. We hopped into Randal and pulled up to the intersection of New York and New Jersey Avenues. As we toed the white line at the light, our spirits plummeted as the our gauges blinked off, all emergency lights on the dash blinked on, and Randal slowed to a stop. Before the 26 hour odyssey began, the gold dodge was showing signs of disrepair. A stall like this had happened to me before, but given a sterling report from the auto mechanic but 6 days earlier, it was hardly expected on this day. We decided to get on the trail to San Antonio none-the-less. At least the first leg would be conducted on US soil.
Randal's stalling problem persisted throughout the journey, but only when idling in stop and go traffic. Once on the highway, no problems were encountered. It is a bit precarious, but the problem seems to be able to be worked around.
Other than the stalls, the journey had one other notable event. In Tennessee, we were following a Nissan SUV when a young doe hopped the median and dashed across the interstate. We both slammed on our brakes, but the Nissan was a bit too late and clipped the deer. The animal went careening into the air with a hail storm of glass, plastic, and fur raining down around it. We pulled over and confirmed that the passengers of the other vehicle were all right. They were. The damage to their car was shocking though, considering the small stature of the animal. It was doubly crazy to have witnessed the entire sequence of events from only 40 feet away.
In the end we made the trip in 27 hours adding only one hour to the time estimate on googlemaps due to gas stops and one missed turn outside of Birmingham, AL. Andrew tried mostly unsuccessfully to nap in the back seat, while I downed a 5 hour energy and a a 16 oz can of NOS energy drink to curb my fatigue. Shockingly, as I write, I've been up the better part of the last 35 hours and still feel pretty good.
In any case, after some stalls, deer in the road, and several doses of caffeine, we are safely to San Antonio. Tomorrow, Andrew will try to catch a flight to Mexico City while I lag a day behind attempting to cross the Rio Grande by bridge.
More updates are on the way!
We compartmentalized the trunk using cardboard boxes obtained at Safeway. We made egg and pasta salad to avoid any stops that weren't mandated by refueling. We photocopied important documents that would be needed during bordering crossing. We hopped into Randal and pulled up to the intersection of New York and New Jersey Avenues. As we toed the white line at the light, our spirits plummeted as the our gauges blinked off, all emergency lights on the dash blinked on, and Randal slowed to a stop. Before the 26 hour odyssey began, the gold dodge was showing signs of disrepair. A stall like this had happened to me before, but given a sterling report from the auto mechanic but 6 days earlier, it was hardly expected on this day. We decided to get on the trail to San Antonio none-the-less. At least the first leg would be conducted on US soil.
Randal's stalling problem persisted throughout the journey, but only when idling in stop and go traffic. Once on the highway, no problems were encountered. It is a bit precarious, but the problem seems to be able to be worked around.
Other than the stalls, the journey had one other notable event. In Tennessee, we were following a Nissan SUV when a young doe hopped the median and dashed across the interstate. We both slammed on our brakes, but the Nissan was a bit too late and clipped the deer. The animal went careening into the air with a hail storm of glass, plastic, and fur raining down around it. We pulled over and confirmed that the passengers of the other vehicle were all right. They were. The damage to their car was shocking though, considering the small stature of the animal. It was doubly crazy to have witnessed the entire sequence of events from only 40 feet away.
In the end we made the trip in 27 hours adding only one hour to the time estimate on googlemaps due to gas stops and one missed turn outside of Birmingham, AL. Andrew tried mostly unsuccessfully to nap in the back seat, while I downed a 5 hour energy and a a 16 oz can of NOS energy drink to curb my fatigue. Shockingly, as I write, I've been up the better part of the last 35 hours and still feel pretty good.
In any case, after some stalls, deer in the road, and several doses of caffeine, we are safely to San Antonio. Tomorrow, Andrew will try to catch a flight to Mexico City while I lag a day behind attempting to cross the Rio Grande by bridge.
More updates are on the way!
Sunday, July 8
Departure
We've had some entries for the contest roll in over the weekend, but are still short of our goal to raise money for two tanks of gas. Keep um coming in until the wee hours of the morn. We depart at 5am EST from the infamous 121 New York Ave NW. At that point all bets are off as we'll quickly begin tearing across the Virginia countryside in an attempt to pass the current minimum bet, Tennessee.
Hopefully, midday on Tuesday, We'll be updating from scenic San Antonio Texas and the home of one Jacob Eyer.
Hopefully, midday on Tuesday, We'll be updating from scenic San Antonio Texas and the home of one Jacob Eyer.
Friday, July 6
The Contest
Planning is in full swing. We've mapped a route that will take us to San Antonio, Mexico City, Oaxaca, Panajachel, Tegucigalpa, San Marcos, and Playa San Miguel. We're sure to add a few more stops in the final days leading up to departure.
We were hoping to run a little raffle to see who can guess the country or state of Randal's final resting place. Likely this will be where the car mechanically gives out, but could also be a result of time (I need to be back on work on August 6) or bartering for impressive embroidery as the situation demands. Primarily, your guess should take into account the full spectrum of auto work that has completed as detailed in the Spirited Away post. The rules are simple. Send $5 to my paypal account (gregbesser@gmail) before Monday July 9th and state your expected state/country of breakdown in the comments. When Randal comes to rest, we'll report winners. The prize pot will consist of 50% of the money entrusted and several souvenirs from the predicted location. If several people guess the same location, the prizes will be split. Our goal with this contest is to raise two tank's worth of gas money and get people psyched up and talking trash on our blog's comments. You've all been excellent readers so far and we have over 200 hits. Unfortunately, Andrew and I are insatiable and want more interaction in the comments below.
To help you out I've included a little bit of detail about each country or state through which we intend to pass. Risk takers make choose to take off-route locations like Kansas and Venezuela but it is suggested you stick to the countries and American and Mexican states listed below. Keep in mind, the US and Mexico are not acceptable guesses, instead you must guess a state within Mexico or US. Go on paypal and knock this out now. Time is of the essence!
We were hoping to run a little raffle to see who can guess the country or state of Randal's final resting place. Likely this will be where the car mechanically gives out, but could also be a result of time (I need to be back on work on August 6) or bartering for impressive embroidery as the situation demands. Primarily, your guess should take into account the full spectrum of auto work that has completed as detailed in the Spirited Away post. The rules are simple. Send $5 to my paypal account (gregbesser@gmail) before Monday July 9th and state your expected state/country of breakdown in the comments. When Randal comes to rest, we'll report winners. The prize pot will consist of 50% of the money entrusted and several souvenirs from the predicted location. If several people guess the same location, the prizes will be split. Our goal with this contest is to raise two tank's worth of gas money and get people psyched up and talking trash on our blog's comments. You've all been excellent readers so far and we have over 200 hits. Unfortunately, Andrew and I are insatiable and want more interaction in the comments below.
To help you out I've included a little bit of detail about each country or state through which we intend to pass. Risk takers make choose to take off-route locations like Kansas and Venezuela but it is suggested you stick to the countries and American and Mexican states listed below. Keep in mind, the US and Mexico are not acceptable guesses, instead you must guess a state within Mexico or US. Go on paypal and knock this out now. Time is of the essence!
- Washington, DC...........3.2 Miles.......15 mins
- Virginia.........................377 Miles......7 hours
- Tennessee......................224 Miles......4 hours
- Georgia...........................29 Miles.......30 mins
- Alabama.........................242 Miles......4 hours
- Mississippi.....................176 Miles......3 hours
- Louisiana........................265 Miles..... 5 hours
- Texas...............................429 Miles......1 day
- Tamaulipas......................26 Miles........30 mins
- Nuevo Leon.....................317 Miles.....6 hours
- Coahuila...........................9 Miles........10 min
- San Luis Potosi.................191 Miles....4 hours
- Guanajuato.......................48 Miles.... 1 day
- Queretaro..........................63 Miles......1 hour
- Hidalgo............................91 Miles........2 hours
- Mexico (city)....................44 Miles..... 3 days
- Pueblo..............................182 Miles.....3 hours
- Oaxaca.............................372 Miles.....2 days
- Chiapas............................154 Miles.....1 day
- Guatemala........................296 Miles.....2 days
- Honduras..........................367 Miles.....2 days
- Nicaragua.........................238 Miles.....5 days
- Costa Rica.......................281 Miles......5 days
- Panama............................???? Miles.....????
- Ecuador...........................???? Miles.....????
Tuesday, July 3
Interactive Blogging
We’ll be driving. A lot. We’d LOVE to get mixes for our drive that we can use daily in the car that will characterize experience. To help involve you all on the trip, please e-mail me (aboddorff@gmail.com) or Greg (gregbesser@gmail.com) with music that we can put on our iPod. We will then dedicate different parts of the journey to different mixes to have “anthems” of the trip. As we update the blog, we’ll continually comment on the soundtrack of the day with favorite tracks, etc. You can have a lasting impact on our experience and get periodic shoutouts if and when your tunes make the highlight reel.
The Dry Run
Practice makes perfect, thus two weeks ago Greg and I decided to visit every country on our itinerary. We fired up Randal pretty early in the morning, both dressed up a little fancy to create the illusion that we were important, and headed off to do a Consulate World Tour 2012. 6 countries in 4 hours. In total, we visited all 6 consulates with varying degrees of success and experience. Upon reflection, we realized that each embassy reflected a preconceived notion that we carried about that country. Below, separated by country, recounts our thoughts and impressions.
Mexico: The first thing that strikes you about the Mexican Consulate is that it has quite a large and impressive building. The façade is a glistening white stone, with a drive-way that bends towards a portico lined with columns. Important things were about to transpire. We confidently strolled up to the door, rang the bell ready to announce the future world travelers, and waited. And waited. It was early. Maybe they were just late to work? As our grand vision slowly refocused back to reality, we saw a non-descript Mexican walk around the side of the mansion. Taking his cue, we followed him around to the noticeably less impressive building adjoined to the Consulate.
Once inside, crammed in line with about 30 other native looking Mexicans, I felt out of place. Perhaps wrongfully, we were the well to do American among these hard working Mexicans looking to get their papers in order so as to achieve this promised dream of making a life in the Land of the Free. Here we were fleeing this promise…in suits. After a short conversation with a pleasant attendant, we were sent to meet up with a person to discuss the details of our border crossing. The new consulate employee greeted us warmly and tried to answer our questions by underlining good websites and phone numbers to call regarding our inquiries. After about five minutes of continually referring us to the informational packet (all in Spanish), we decided to ask for some small travel advice to best avoid trouble. She looked at us and said, “Don’t’ do anything illegal.” I politely laughed thinking this was a jest and followed up with a question about how to best cross into Mexico. She informed us that the whole border was dangerous. Bam.
In summary: Mexico has pretty facades and history, but in practice is chaotic. The people want to help but are unorganized to do so, rather just pushing you towards other sources of information.
Guatemala: Not even in DC. This consulate was nestled up in Silver Spring, down an alley between a Golden House Chinese restaurant and some dumpsters. The inside was just as nice, with a long reception counter and an open room with folding chairs set up. The receptionist was quite friendly and “pulled a Mexico” by referring us to other numbers. I think the location of the consulate is appropriate for my conception of Guatemala: One of the dangerous dark alleys of Central America.
Honduras: Greg had to be at work, so I went solo to this consulate. Much like its western neighbor, Guatemala, the consulate was…humble. Perched above a small conerstore on M street NW and only marked by a proud waving flag of Hondruas, the consulate had a small set of steps leading up to the door. Once inside, there were a set of crumbling steps that lead to a small room with a movie box office-esque counter. There was a man in his 40s behind the class with what appeared to be his 13 year old daughter and his wife. As in most of my encounters, I was greeted in Spanish and when I replied in English there is usually an automatic switch to very excellent English. His transition was like a teenager learning to drive stick-shift for the first time (note: I am not condescending on his English proficiency given my ineptitude at Spanish). What followed was, from what I could gather, some information about how to get a car into Honduras. He told me pay the fee. I asked if there was anything else. He slyly smiled at me and with arms spread wide said, “Welcome to Honduras”. I mentally noted that I would be extra careful in Honduras. When asked about safety, his 13 year old assistant/daughter interjected saying, “I don’t think you have to worry.” I’m a little worried.
Nicarauga: A quaint building with friendly people. Not very helpful people though. She did not give us the run around, rather just gave us straight up advice or said that she did not know. They did have coffee though!
Costa Rica: We seemed to open up the office in Costa Rica, as we followed in the consulate employee to her desk. There she was very pleasant and answered each of our questions, sometimes quickly calling a number to get more detailed information. Meanwhile, to keep us from getting bored, she constantly fed us travel pamphlets about what to do in Costa Rica. Tourism is obviously the thing.
Panama: The last intended destination on our trip left us with the best impression. The staff was kind and helpful and we were actually invited into a back office to talk with an official. There Ms. Cuevas took our information down and promised she would write a letter detailing border crossing information. Panama: 1 The Rest of Central America: 0
The other silly thing that we encountered often when inquiring about getting extorted when crossing borders was a lot of finger pointing. “MY country won’t give you problems, but you might want to check with those other unsavory countries.” I’m excited to see how these first impressions on the dry run match to our experiences on the road.
Mexico: The first thing that strikes you about the Mexican Consulate is that it has quite a large and impressive building. The façade is a glistening white stone, with a drive-way that bends towards a portico lined with columns. Important things were about to transpire. We confidently strolled up to the door, rang the bell ready to announce the future world travelers, and waited. And waited. It was early. Maybe they were just late to work? As our grand vision slowly refocused back to reality, we saw a non-descript Mexican walk around the side of the mansion. Taking his cue, we followed him around to the noticeably less impressive building adjoined to the Consulate.
Once inside, crammed in line with about 30 other native looking Mexicans, I felt out of place. Perhaps wrongfully, we were the well to do American among these hard working Mexicans looking to get their papers in order so as to achieve this promised dream of making a life in the Land of the Free. Here we were fleeing this promise…in suits. After a short conversation with a pleasant attendant, we were sent to meet up with a person to discuss the details of our border crossing. The new consulate employee greeted us warmly and tried to answer our questions by underlining good websites and phone numbers to call regarding our inquiries. After about five minutes of continually referring us to the informational packet (all in Spanish), we decided to ask for some small travel advice to best avoid trouble. She looked at us and said, “Don’t’ do anything illegal.” I politely laughed thinking this was a jest and followed up with a question about how to best cross into Mexico. She informed us that the whole border was dangerous. Bam.
In summary: Mexico has pretty facades and history, but in practice is chaotic. The people want to help but are unorganized to do so, rather just pushing you towards other sources of information.
Guatemala: Not even in DC. This consulate was nestled up in Silver Spring, down an alley between a Golden House Chinese restaurant and some dumpsters. The inside was just as nice, with a long reception counter and an open room with folding chairs set up. The receptionist was quite friendly and “pulled a Mexico” by referring us to other numbers. I think the location of the consulate is appropriate for my conception of Guatemala: One of the dangerous dark alleys of Central America.
Honduras: Greg had to be at work, so I went solo to this consulate. Much like its western neighbor, Guatemala, the consulate was…humble. Perched above a small conerstore on M street NW and only marked by a proud waving flag of Hondruas, the consulate had a small set of steps leading up to the door. Once inside, there were a set of crumbling steps that lead to a small room with a movie box office-esque counter. There was a man in his 40s behind the class with what appeared to be his 13 year old daughter and his wife. As in most of my encounters, I was greeted in Spanish and when I replied in English there is usually an automatic switch to very excellent English. His transition was like a teenager learning to drive stick-shift for the first time (note: I am not condescending on his English proficiency given my ineptitude at Spanish). What followed was, from what I could gather, some information about how to get a car into Honduras. He told me pay the fee. I asked if there was anything else. He slyly smiled at me and with arms spread wide said, “Welcome to Honduras”. I mentally noted that I would be extra careful in Honduras. When asked about safety, his 13 year old assistant/daughter interjected saying, “I don’t think you have to worry.” I’m a little worried.
Nicarauga: A quaint building with friendly people. Not very helpful people though. She did not give us the run around, rather just gave us straight up advice or said that she did not know. They did have coffee though!
Costa Rica: We seemed to open up the office in Costa Rica, as we followed in the consulate employee to her desk. There she was very pleasant and answered each of our questions, sometimes quickly calling a number to get more detailed information. Meanwhile, to keep us from getting bored, she constantly fed us travel pamphlets about what to do in Costa Rica. Tourism is obviously the thing.
Panama: The last intended destination on our trip left us with the best impression. The staff was kind and helpful and we were actually invited into a back office to talk with an official. There Ms. Cuevas took our information down and promised she would write a letter detailing border crossing information. Panama: 1 The Rest of Central America: 0
The other silly thing that we encountered often when inquiring about getting extorted when crossing borders was a lot of finger pointing. “MY country won’t give you problems, but you might want to check with those other unsavory countries.” I’m excited to see how these first impressions on the dry run match to our experiences on the road.
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