(re)Adjusting to America

It hasn’t been easy (re)Adjusting to America. I’ve been overwhelmed by everything from thick bath towels longer than I am tall (ok, almost), Keurig coffee makers, and the Kardashians – just to name a few of the many things that I can’t seem to be able to wrap my head around. It would seem that I simply don’t know what it is to be “American” these days. Target employees make me want to run and hide in the middle of a rack of clothing. HELLO! HOW CAN I HELP YOU TODAY? ARE YOU FINDING EVERYTHING OK? ANYTHING I CAN DO FOR YOU? And then there’s the plethora of choices. So. many. choices. all. the. time. Different brands. Different sizes. Different packages. Aisles upon aisles of… food and more food. or toothpastes. or bras and underwear. or lotions. or candy. or magazines. or…

When I left America, there was cheese. Sure, there were different kinds of cheese; cheddar, mozzarella, feta… But now there’s non-dairy cheese. Lactose intolerant cheese. Organic cheese. Gluten free cheese. Vegan cheese. And the diets everyone is on? It makes my head spin. I shouldn’t judge. I know my diet changed a lot on our trip. Like in S.E. Asia, there were noodles- so we ate noodles. In Nepal and India, there wasn’t any beef, but there was a lot of curry! We didn’t eat beef, we ate curry. In Africa it was impossible to find fresh vegetables. Guess what we didn’t eat? Fresh vegetables. And now that we’re back in America, where you can eat absolutely anything you could possibly want… people choose not to eat certain foods? Even worse, people let food go to waste?

You’re full after eating your soup AND appetizer, so you’re just going to throw away half of a perfectly good cheeseburger because you’re FULL? Because YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO NOT HAVE HAD A GOOD CHEESEBURGER IN MONTHS? Girl, please, I will take that cheeseburger home for you if you don’t want it. And no, not because there are poor starving children in Africa (although there are) but because I know what it’s like to not have a cheeseburger when I really, really want one. It’s not just this that’s on my mind if I’m out at a restaurant these days. It’s the bubbly waitress, it’s the constant coffee refills, it’s the tipping… I haven’t tipped in so long, it’s like I never learned basic math skills to immediately calculate and slip 20% in with my bill.

And did you know EVERYONE SPEAKS ENGLISH?

At least in middle America they do.

There was one night in Madison (Wisconsin) though where we found ourselves in a Vietnamese restaurant next to a table full of Spanish speakers. Because listening to their conversation felt more normal than anything had since we touched down in America, I couldn’t help but giggle as one of them (in Spanish) made fun of someone who told them they needed to stop speaking “Mexican.”

And everyone talks to you all the time. At least, to me they do. It’s fantastic! And totally weird because I’m not used to speaking the same language fluently. But it’s great… just as long as no one else is speaking English at the same time. Because I’ve lost all ability to filter other conversations out of my brain simultaneously. When you’re living in Korea, and your Korean isn’t fluent, filtering others out is literally a no-brainer. Same for traveling in and out of countries where you don’t speak the language. But when everything is in English? It’s like everyone in close proximity is inside of my brain and I cannot for the life of me get their voices, their conversations out of it. Perhaps if I thought everyone was speaking at a reasonable volume it would be easier… But it seems like everyone has been shouting at me or in every conversation with or around me since our arrival. I would like to think everyone has just been really excited to see me, but I have a feeling it has nothing to do with me and more to do with the bigger (voice) the better. I have yet to figure out why…

I thought (stupidly) that adjusting to being around our old friends again was going to be the hardest part. It’s definitely been an adjustment, but mostly because Andrew and I went without friends (unless we were lucky enough to meet or meet up with some on our trip for more than one afternoon or night) for 15 months. The majority of that time, we were alone. Friendships were maintained via email and even then it was a bit spotty. I would go for weeks or months without hearing from some friends and I would have to remind myself that I was the one who left them. I was the one who went off the grid when the internet simply didn’t work very well in countries like Nepal or Mozambique or Ecuador… But as soon as I got back, it felt as though everyone was waiting with arms wide open. They left keys under plants for us to let ourselves in after our plane landed at three in the morning. They showed up with a six pack of Spotted Cow – not even for me – but for Andrew! They bought us (and some continue to buy us) drinks when we go out. One drove an hour and a half just to have dinner with us! Now that I have an American number, they text, they send gifs of the Golden Girls to my phone, they call, and it feels like I have friends again. We aren’t alone anymore. The adjustment isn’t a rough one, but an unexpected “Oh this is what it’s like to have people around” feeling that wasn’t anticipated.

I also thought (stupidly) that adjusting to being a physical part of my family again was going to be one of the easier parts of this transition. They’ve known me the longest, right? They made me, or, at least, they’ve been around after I was made… how could they not ‘get me’ by now? I could not have been more wrong. I have become so familiar with what it’s like to feel like I don’t have a family that I was ecstatic to be “home” again. This enthusiasm was not matched and I struggle with how to let go of the disappointment.

It seems as if everyone has their own opinion of our adventure around the world and the choice that we made to do it in the first place. Most people think of our 15 month jaunt around the world as a vacation. Like, we were having so much fun all the time, and the pictures we posted on Facebook meant we were always having this amazing time. It was amazing, it was an unbelievable adventure, but it was also WAY more work than going to a traditional job everyday from 9-5. Even if we were seeing an incredible site in the morning, in the afternoon we might be traveling or planning how to get to our next destination or where our next destination was going to be. It. was. hard. We went on this adventure to learn and grow and of course, see the world, but not because we thought it was going to be a 15 month holiday. And we’re moving to New York for some of the same reasons, but it seems as though a lot of people think it’s just one more irresponsible dream we’re chasing down. This makes the transition even more difficult.

I also struggle with anxiety over the future. Over wanting our move back to America to work out. Over wanting a job again. Over wanting a full kitchen and inviting friends over for a beautiful dinner. Or simply being able to buy all of my friends drinks instead of the other way around. I don’t know what the future is going to bring, and I’m not always confident in it, or myself. But then Andrew gets crazy optimistic on me. Or I get a gif of Betty White shimmying across a dance floor. Or a message from a friend reminding me that I survived a rhino (it was actually a hippo) threat while high on malaria meds in Africa and to keep calm and carry on.

Day 439: Cartagena to Playa Blanca

Playa Blanca is a beautiful white sand beach on one of the Rosario Islands off the coast of Cartagena. Per everyone’s advice, we skipped the aquarium/island tour en route, and went straight from Cartagena to Playa Blanca. At least, that’s what we asked for. Multiple times when we were buying our tickets to Playa Blanca. Waiting at the harbor for the right boat was confusing, for everyone it seemed, except those walking around with clipboards and lists of names. 

Once we finally got on what we were told was the right boat (and we did see our names on the list) we discovered we were with a tour group going to the aquarium. Fortunately, after the thirty minute boat ride, we were dropped off first at Playa Blanca. Again, we heeded advice given to us and immediately began walking down the beach  (to the left of where you get dropped off) to get away from the vendors and day visitors. We settled for a cabana steps from the ocean, slipped into our suits, and pulled chairs under the umbrella and didn’t move for the rest of the afternoon.

Day 438: More salsa in Cartagena? Yes, please!

And that’s exactly what we did. More of the same from the day before. Walked around the old town. And, again, were the only two who showed up to the group lesson at Crazy Salsa. At night, we went back into the old town to a salsa club that one of the guys working at the hostel recommended. We must have showed up too early, because while there were a lot of people milling about, none were dancing. We left to walk around the old town at night, stumbled upon an outdoor concert wrapping up, and then back to the club. When we returned, there was a bit more dancing, and some older Colombians took pity on me dancing by myself next to Andrew who was trying to pay attention to all of the fancy footwork on the little dance floor. After several dances with the same two sweet Colombians, we left to catch a little sleep before our boat to Playa Blanca in the morning.

Day 436: Cartagena

Cartagena is hot. It’s not only hot, it’s humid. Our first stop? Giant glasses of fresh fruit juice a block away from our hostel. Another guest informed us the juice was better (and bigger) there, rather than at the hostel itself. Once we were slightly cooled off, we set off for the old city. The old city of Cartagena is a walled-in city full of beautiful colonial style buildings. All of the guide books recommend walking around Cartagena’s old city for days on end. It’s the thing to do, and as you can see below- for good reason. Every street was full of character, sitting in the park watching the birds and the children feeding (or trying to catch) the birds was entertaining, even when it rained, a rainbow popped up over the walled in city. Beautiful. No other word for it. We walked around the entire day, stopping only to cool off in an air-conditioned store or ice-cream shop.

Day 433: El Rodadero

El Rodadero seemed to be the least dangerous area of Santa Marta. Perhaps this is because it might be the least visited by foreigners. Once we walked around town, we realized why. It seemed to be a locals only tourist destination. When we walked down the main beach, we were amazed at how many people there were and to be frank; how dirty it was. Families upon families were camped out next to each other and garbage was everywhere. At least while we were walking along the beach there were a few garbage men picking up the trash, but still! It was rather unbelievable. I wanted (desperately) to photograph it all, but I didn’t feel comfortable whipping out my DSLR on the beach amongst a lot of locals, so I kept it tucked away in my bag (or room). We left the crowded beach and found a smaller, less crowded, and much less dirty beach a little ways down and enjoyed the water and beach there instead. It was lovely to be on a beach again, but quite different from the beaches of SouthEast Asia and it made us question what fuels the difference. 

Day 432: Medellin to Santa Marta

Despite our love of 12 hour+ bus rides (kidding), we decided to fly from Medellin to Santa Marta instead. We weren’t totally sure if it was going to be smooth sailing, as we heard multiple stories of Viva Colombia! Airlines often canceling and delaying flights. 

There was a lot of confusion within the airport itself, but we managed to land safely only about an hour later in Santa Marta. Much more convenient than a day (and night) on another bus.

Day 426: Bogota’s Free Walking Tour & Gold Museum

We were on the fence about how long we were going to stay in Bogota. We kept hearing conflicting opinions. Bogota was better than Medellin. No, Medellin was better. We were at a loss of where to spend more time before catching a flight to the coast. In the end, despite liking Bogota quite a bit, we decided to head to Medellin sooner in hopes it would be warmer. So with our last day in Bogota (today) we went on the free walking tour, checked out Museo del Oro (The Gold Museum) and even hopped in a taxi to check out the Usaquen Flea Market.

Because we were suddenly pressed for time, we signed up for the free walking tour in Spanish, reassuring ourselves that we needed the practice. Despite understanding most of the Spanish, I was still grateful our guide was bilingual and often gave us a quick recap in English to make sure we understood. The tour wasn’t very long, but it was nice to have a few things pointed out to us that we would have missed otherwise. Below is the president’s house, an elite high-school (if I remember correctly) and a statue commemorating Colombia’s independence.

I felt pretty safe in Bogota. It was grimy and it didn’t always look the safest, but there were so many police officers around looking out for city-dwellers and tourists alike. You can see two officers on the corner below. I think there were four in total. Mostly because this street led to the president’s house, office, and many political buildings… but still, I was grateful and appreciated being able to keep my camera out instead of buried in a backpack on Andrew’s back throughout our entire visit.

We stopped by the cultural center where a public dance class was being held. They were learning (or practicing) the tango. After the tour, Andrew and I had a traditional lunch: an order of ajiaco (a super hearty soup full of chicken, potatoes, and more) and then made our way towards the Museo del Oro a few blocks away. The walk there was full of pedestrians, street performers, human statues, and vendors.

We didn’t plan on visiting the Gold Museum on its ‘free day.’ This was a bit of a mistake. It was packed. So packed, we would speed walk through certain exhibition spaces that were too crowded for our liking. It offers an impressive display of gold and pre-Colombian artifacts. I loved the clay pieces you see above, and was a little disappointed we didn’t see any recreations for sale outside of the museum. I also loved the earrings below. I usually prefer silver, but I would not pass up the opportunity to have a wall full of gold earrings if the opportunity ever presents itself!

The Usaquen Flea Market was a little far, and only seemed accessible by car (or taxi in our case). I was expecting a more traditional flea market, full of used goods, antiques, and the like. The ‘flea’ market was a little more crafty and perhaps trendy(?) than I would have liked. Andrew really wasn’t this grumpy while we strolled through the market, but I thought his expression fit our overall experience.

I debated buying a wooden door (slightly similar to those I admired so much in Salento) but they weren’t nearly as colorful, and in the end settled for a slice of raspberry cheesecake instead.

Day 424: Street Art in Bogota

It was supposed to take us eight hours to get from Armenia to Bogota. It took us fifteen.

We later found out that this is fairly common. We shared a taxi into the city with two other travelers and after dropping them off, we arrived at our guesthouse in Bogota around midnight, utterly exhausted. In my efforts to not bore you with another day of us sitting on a bus, or complaining about sitting on said bus, I put together a melange of street art that we discovered during our stay in Bogota. Just in our late night taxi ride from the station to our guesthouse alone, I was amazed by the beautiful murals along the highway. They were everywhere. They were beautiful. They were big. While it was too dark to shoot footage from the cab at night, I found some other equally impressive art throughout Bogota and tried to record as much of it as I could. Had we known from the start of our stay, we would have readily gone on the Bogota Street Art Tour, but didn’t find out about it until we were on our way out of the city.

There are some impressive artists in Bogota. Unfortunately the links that the aforementioned tour provide didn’t work for me, except this one. DJLU was one of my favorites. Also scattered around the city, were these public sculptures of famous artists as well as political and historical figures sitting on rooftops. As well as a few colorful walls and doors dotted the streets as well. How could I refuse taking a picture of this pretty juxtaposition of color?

Day 423: Halloween in Salento!

A year ago, we were celebrating Halloween in Chiang Mai, Thailand. We didn’t exactly celebrate, per say, but we were there. Halloween in Salento, Colombia is a significantly bigger deal. Everyone seemed to congregate in the town square and the main road just off the square. There was a parade – and by ‘parade’ I mean some police vehicles leading a lot of mothers and young children through the town. It was adorable. We strolled around town, sat and watched children run from storefront to storefront screaming what I believe was the equivalent of “trick or treat!” and enjoyed what felt like our first festive holiday on the entire trip. It was nice to feel like we were a part of something, even though we were very much the visitors. It also made me look forward to celebrating holidays back home. I just might turn into that girl who wraps her front door in wrapping paper on Christmas, makes heart pancakes on Valentines Day, and dresses like a leprechaun on St. Patricks Day.

Andrew really wanted me to get a picture of the square (and the church) with the mountains in the background. Unfortunately the cloud coverage got in the way. I don’t think this picture really does the scene justice, but I’m sharing nonetheless.

I LOVED the doors and walls of Salento. All of them were beautifully painted and it just added so much character to an already lovely ambiance. I would have photographed absolutely every door if the light would have allowed. Instead, I managed to squeeze one of the main street as dusk and more trick-or-treaters took over.

Day 422: Horseback Riding in Salento

Truth: We spent the entire day on a bus again. But our following afternoon and evening (Halloween) in Salento was so much fun, I thought I’d break them up so you could see more! Salento is a little town about forty minutes or so outside of a bigger town called Armenia. We merely stopped through to change buses and were pleasantly surprised when we jumped off our final bus in Salento. It’s small. It’s picturesque. It’s friendly. It has a lot to do. We decided to go horseback riding instead of trekking mostly because it had rained the entire day prior and continued to rain as we walked through town hunting down a couple of horses. Luckily two oversized ponchos were strapped on our horses and we were more or less covered for our four hour ride down the mountain, through the rainforest, to a waterfall, and back!

You know when you’re home and you have plans to do something outdoors, and then it rains, and you decide to stay indoors and watch a movie instead? Unfortunately (or fortunately) traveling around the world doesn’t always allow for those kinds of days. If I were in Korea (or Kentucky), I would have definitely curled up on the couch, ordered food, and turned on a movie. In the middle of Colombia- in Salento for only two nights, we climbed on a couple of horses. You can’t really tell by any of the pictures, but it was raining for most of our ride. Thankfully, I was warm enough under the poncho.

We weren’t exactly expecting the ride to follow the road down the mountain. I think I assumed we would be driven down to the rainforest and palms, where we would then climb on a horse and ride for a few hours. Riding the horse through town, and down the mountain took about an hour and weaving around cars and bikes along the way made the horses a little bit skittish. It was nice once we got into the valley and were on a trail instead of a paved road. We also thought we were going through the palm forest (think really, really tall palm trees) but instead we rode through some beautiful fields, crossed some streams, went along the old railway track, and walked to a waterfall that was simply gushing with all of the recent rainwater. It was a great ride, not exactly what we were expecting, but nice nonetheless.

Our climb back up the mountain was tough. Instead of winding our way back into town on the paved road, instead we climbed a muddy ravine that both of our horses struggled with. By the end of our ride, our backs and legs were sore, we were covered in mud, our shoes were squishy from all of the rain and river crossings, and we were starving.

et and very dirty, we went straight for lunch (instead of showers) mostly because we were afraid the restaurant we wanted to try the most would close before we could get cleaned up. I think I may have gotten too comfortable with being dirty on this trip. Or perhaps simply too used to it? Either way, hot showers and washing machines have become a luxury. I’m not sure if the average American would think the same.

Day 418: Otavalo

Before making our way across the border into Colombia, we stopped for two nights in Otavalo, Ecuador. Otavalo is a little town that is most famous for it’s markets every Saturday morning and early afternoon. As we walked through town last night, I knew I was going to enjoy our short stay here. While the Ecuadorian coast was nice, and the historical center of Quito very pretty, I think the beauty of Ecuador lies in it’s small towns inland, or in the mountains. I loved Mindo, I had a feeling I was going to love Otavalo as well. It made me feel a little bad we spent most of our time in Ecuador studying Spanish instead of traveling around more smaller towns! We spent the morning at Otavalo’s main market, and then the afternoon searching down the Peguche waterfall outside of town.

It seemed as if the entire city shut down and morphed into a giant market. Granted, the city wasn’t that big, but when all of the streets are suddenly covered in tents and stalls selling everything from skeins of yarn to gold bracelets to pre-Colombian statues to slabs of pork on a plate for a quick lunch it felt huge and delightfully overwhelming. Andrew and I strolled around taking it all in, taking pictures, and seeing what was for sale before we bought anything. We could have bought small and unbreakable things, but we went straight for the pre-Colombian statues (some of which you can see below). More specifically, Andrew wanted them. It’s official. I have rubbed off on him. At least when it comes to buying (and subsequently having to carry around) breakable, slightly heavy and hard to pack souvenirs.

We’ve also seen reproductions based off of Ecuadorian artist, Oswaldo Guayasamín‘s work throughout Ecuador. They were everywhere. In our guesthouses, in restaurants, even on the walls in our Spanish school in Quito. I was hoping I’d be able to find a few prints or hear more about the artist before we left Ecuador. Fortunately the market offered lots of reproductions and we were able to hop from stall to stall pricing out different ones we liked and eventually decided on a few that our future walls simply will not be able to live without. Done shopping, we strolled through the food market (always one of my favorite areas of a market) and took pictures before ducking into one of the restaurants for lunch.

The outskirts of the market offered quieter streets which made it relatively easy to sneak back to our room to drop off our newly acquired art before trekking out of Otavalo to check out the Peguche waterfall. We took a public bus and got off at the suggested stop, but we felt a little lost wandering around a much smaller town with no clear signs of a waterfall.

We were also told it was a weaving capital of the area surrounding Otavalo, but we quickly found out this simply meant there was one shop with very pricey rugs and tapestries inside. I was more impressed with the street art. This little tiny two street town with hardly anyone walking through it offered up some incredible murals. Even in Otavalo offered equally impressive public art.

Even though we asked for directions, walking down this dirt road we were a little skeptical if we were heading in the right direction. There weren’t any signs, no other tourists, so when some locals walked past us, we simply followed them and were relieved when we found ourselves at the entrance of the park and winding trail towards the waterfall. Anxious to catch a public bus back into Otavalo before dark, we didn’t linger in the park too long.

Instead, we walked to yet another small town that wrapped itself around the outskirts of Otavalo in search for the bus or perhaps a taxi if we were lucky. Eventually we were told where we could go, and before the sandflies consumed my exposed legs entirely, we were back on a bus towards Otavalo and heading back to Taco Bello (yep, you read correctly) for another taco salad.

Day 416: The Equator (part 2)

The real equator line lies a short walk away from the monument and park. By short walk, I mean a rather unmarked walk along an expressway where we spent the majority of the time wondering if we were going in the right direction or not. After turning down another unmarked road (that we were told to turn down) we kept walking until we saw a sign for the Museo de Sitio Intiñan. Once inside, we were led on a guided tour through the outdoor museum where we did some experiments and of course, had our picture taken on the real equator.

See what I mean about not knowing where to go? It’s a little bit strange how big and grand the official monument and park are for an inaccurate equator line and then how little (actually there is none) signage between the “two equators.” You would also think that the Museo de Sitio Intiñan would put more effort into the walk in between. For the record, we saw others walking in between, looking just as bewildered as we felt.

We started the tour in a huge group of German tourists, but quickly fled once we realized we couldn’t see, nor hear a thing and started the tour over in a smaller mostly English speaking group. The museum is nice, I think it was a bit more interesting than visiting the monument and fake yellow equator. We watched water drain in different directions on either side of the GPS calculated equator, tried to walk in a straight line with our eyes closed on the it, as well as balance an egg on a nail. Andrew walked out with a certificate confirming his abilities to balance the egg. I fully plan on framing it and hanging it up, if he lets me. An hour later, we were back in Quito for one more night, one more Spanish lesson, and one more afternoon in Quito before we started making our way north towards Colombia.

Day 415: The Equator (part 1)

Truth: This yellow line is not the equator, or “middle of the earth” as it’s known in Ecuador. This line, and the subsequent park were built around the measurements calculated by French astronomers in 1736. It’s slightly off though, and according to GPS calculations, the real equator is a short walk away. Don’t believe me? Read more about it here. (Because of bad weather in Quito this week, I split up our visit to the equator into two “days” on the blog, so the real equator is coming at you tomorrow!) I felt a little silly visiting this line, knowing it wasn’t even the real line of the equator, but it felt silly not going. Instead of posing like every other tourist there with one foot in each hemisphere, we walked the line. balanced on the line. tip-toed on the line.

Another truth: I’m not really sure who this dude in the last picture is, but there were lots of busts of explorers leading up to the monument, so I thought one of them deserved their picture taken.

Day 412: The birds and the butterflies

We read that we didn’t need to get up at the crack of dawn to go bird-watching. We could go to a guesthouse that had a yard that was full of birds until eleven in the morning. Had we known the only birds that would be at the guesthouse were hummingbirds, we would have definitely gotten up early to walk through the rainforest instead. Word to the wise: get up early. That’s when the birds are out! We watched the hummingbirds, and then made our way towards the butterfly sanctuary, hoping we would get a little bit more action. Fortunately, the butterflies were a plenty and worth the visit!

If you look really closely at the feeder to the right of the picture, you can see three hummingbirds- or rather, the blur of their wings. While we were looking forward to seeing some bigger, more colorful birds, watching around thirty hummingbirds buzz around was mesmerizing. And a bit fascinating. There were actually three different feeders, but one feeder was under control of a “boss” hummingbird who was not keen on sharing. When any other hummingbirds tried to approach his feeder, he would chase them away!

After about a half hour, we walked through town and then hopped into a cab to go out to the butterfly reserve. We’ve been to gardens before, but this was by far the most populated one that we’ve been to yet, even if there were a lot of the same butterflies.

We got a brief introduction, mostly so we could understand that the butterflies were in part harvested out in the rainforest, but also bred within the sanctuary itself. And then we were told we could feed the butterflies with any of the banana left out for the butterflies to feed off of. All we had to do was get a finger full of mushy banana and put it as close as possible to the butterfly’s mouth. Andrew was better at this than I was. Most butterflies seemed more interested in my orange sweater than any banana I had on my finger.

We tried – I tried to get a beautiful bright blue butterfly to land on one of us, or at least let us feed it, but failed for the majority of our visit. Right as we were about to leave, one of the blue butterflies landed on Andrew. He stayed long enough for me to get some banana for him to eat. Unfortunately snapping a picture of him with his wings spread, revealing the bright blue wasn’t easy.

You can see a little sliver of bright blue inside the wings as they are closed. These guys flitted all over Mindo. They were just beautiful. It was fascinating to see how different they looked when their wings were closed!

Day 407: Quito at 5 AM

Quito at 5 AM is not exactly the best time to be walking around with all of your worldly possessions in tow. We jumped in an overpriced taxi (we’re gringos after all) and headed straight to our hostel, where we weren’t sure if we would be able to check in immediately or not. When we found out we weren’t able to, we camped out in the living room, and not feeling comfortable enough to sleep, we both pulled out our computers. Until we were able to check into our room, around ten in the morning, I worked on the blog. Yep, for five hours, on very little sleep, I edited photos, videos, took advantage of the fast internet connection (the first time I had a fast internet connection in several weeks) and tried to get some work done. By the time we were sinking into our bed, I had five new posts up and was more than ready to crash. Which is exactly what we did for the majority of the afternoon. We were exhausted. We went out for dinner, and then amidst the excitement in the streets for another Ecuador World Cup Qualifier, we headed back to our room to watch the game in bed, instead of a bar. The best part was not being able to watch the game in my underpants- but that our television was on a tiny delay. Every time we would hear loud cheering on the streets, I would know to pay attention and wouldn’t miss a goal (or a save)! I’m sure not everyone would agree, but given how exhausted I was, it was the perfect way to watch Ecuador make it into the World Cup! 

Day 402: San Vicente

We needed cash. The nearest ATM machine was not so conveniently located in the next town, San Vicente about twenty minutes away. Had we had our own mode of transportation, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Instead, we had to wait by the side of the road for a half hour or so for a passing bus. I thought San Vicente would offer more photo opportunities (which is why I agreed to go with Andrew), but it seems as though the entire town is under construction. You may think that I’m exaggerating- but I assure you, I’m not. I felt a bit weird with my camera out, so quickly put it away after a few blocks, cutting the day in a minute down to a day in 50-ish seconds. Because we also needed some Ecuador gear for the big World Cup qualifier on Friday, we headed even further to the next town, Bahia. Bahia didn’t seem to be under construction, but it didn’t seem to offer a lot of opportunities either- at least ones that I was willing to risk ownership of my camera for. We picked up a jersey for Andrew, a headband for myself, and a cape (yep, a cape) for our new friend Tom for the big game tomorrow and headed back to Sundown to study some more Spanish.

Day 398: Puerto Lopez to Canoa

Our latest bus journey was supposed to be super smooth. We woke up early to make sure it would be a two bus adventure instead of three. We even arrived at the second bus station and jumped on our next bus with relative ease. Perhaps I jinxed us when I said “Wow, this hasn’t been bad at all!” to Andrew as we pulled out of the station. And then several hours passed, and we still weren’t where we were supposed to be. On a map, it’s approximately a three hour journey. Factor in a bus change, and a few road-side pick-ups (of passengers) and sure, an extra hour or even an hour and a half seems reasonable. But SIX AND A HALF HOURS?!? No, six and a half hours from Puerto Lopez to Canoa was not reasonable. By the time we got into Canoa Andrew sat down at the first restaurant we saw while I went in search of a baño. Somehow, I ended up in someone’s outhouse in their backyard (with their permission) while Andrew ordered fish and rice for us to eat around the corner. It was nearing dusk by the time we got to our beachfront hotel and we were too tired to do anything other than jump in the ocean to cool off and then immediately lay down before our next round of Spanish classes started in the morning. 

Day 396: Olón to Puerto Lopez

It’s so interesting to travel through these quiet, little coastal towns in Ecuador after traveling through bigger tourist attractions in Peru. Since arriving in Olón, and traveling from Olón to Puerto Lopez today, it’s as if we hit the slow motion button or something similar… The bus to Puerto Lopez was relatively quick and painless and when we arrived and walked on the quiet beach we were slightly surprised at how deserted the town felt. The town was quiet. The streets did not feel well traveled. Every other building was empty, closed, or crumbling down. More restaurants and bars (than in Olón) sat on the beach, and although most were open, few patrons were seen. We walked up and down the beachfront street, had some ceviche that made us miss Peru (where the servings are bigger, spicier, and generally much more flavorful), and we made a reservation for a whale watching tour in the morning!

Day 387: Chan Chan

Chan Chan is the largest city in South America that is known to have existed before any European settlement or influence began. It was built by the kingdom of the Chimú around AD 850. I read that date, and almost cannot even wrap my head around it actually existing so long ago, moreover still being (somewhat… mostly…) intact since then! It’s an adobe walled-in city that once held 30,000 people. Today, the walls still stand largely to the lack of rain in the area- much like how the Nazca Lines have managed to stay intact as well. We took a public bus out to the site and got dropped off in what felt like the middle of nowhere. We chuckled a little bit at how strangely familiar we are with this scenario in a completely foreign country. “Well, at least it’s in the middle of the day, and we know where to wait to take a bus back to our place…” Andrew said as we thought back to the night we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere in Mozambique.

A taxi driver got out of his car parked near what we guessed to be the entrance to the ruins. He told us that he could drive us to all four different sites around Trujillo, but we weren’t sure we were up it, and told him we’d check out Chan Chan on our own first. Little did we know it was about a 1-2 kilometer walk from the main road. At least we had some banana chips (my favorite snack since this trip began) and water with us. We probably should have gotten a guide, or even one of the books that we saw one of the guides reading to those she was leading around… But we didn’t. Now that we’re nearing the end of our trip, we’re content to explore on our own and look things up afterwards if we’re so inclined (which I usually am).

What I was most interested in were the people of the Chimor Kingdom. According to some online research after our visit, I found out that they ruled the northern coast of Peru from 850 to 1470. They were the largest kingdom of the “late intermediate” period, in other words, the largest in the time period right before the Incas ruled. I think (I’m not sure at all) that the Incas incorporated some of the Chimu metalwork into their own.

After we walked through the site, (which took about an hour or so) we walked back out to the main road and waited for a bus back into the city. It’s a little like hitch-hiking, only you flag down a speeding bus full of passengers. It’s cheap. It’s easy. And it makes for excellent people watching.

Day 386: Trujillo

Despite clearly planing our trip to hop so many countries, and see as much as we have this past year… Some days it clearly catches up to us and we’re simply tired, overwhelmed, or in need of a slower day (and at least one soft serve ice-cream cone from McDonalds). Today, in Trujillo was one of those days. We arrived in Trujillo early in the morning, and thankfully were allowed to check into our (very) modest room immediately. Most people nap in the afternoon. Our naps are usually between the hours of 6:00 and 1:00 in the morning and very early afternoon. It’s become almost routine. We indulged in a longer nap than usual before walking around town, an early dinner, some ice-cream, and an early night in.

While I wouldn’t change a thing about how and where we’ve traveled this past year, I might not do it quite the same way next time. Yes, we’ve already discussed next time. You are welcome to roll your eyes and think we’re crazy. We roll our eyes, often at each other – and we think we’re crazy – quite often. However, aside from knowing I’d like to change up our next jaunt around the world, it really burns my britches when other travelers (especially those who are on a different schedule, have a different budget, or even have different goals) make backhanded compliments like “I don’t know how you travel so quickly!” or ask questions like “Are you actually staying in one place for more than a couple of days?” and “Don’t you get tired?”

Instead of kicking them in the shins, while they are sandwiched in between their backpacks, I generally smile and try to explain that it’s simply what I wanted from my trip around the world. What I really want to say is usually saved for Andrew’s ears only. He humors me (or tunes me out, I really haven’t been able to discern when he does which) while I lecture the air in our room for the night about how my fellow travelers should know better than to be judgmental of anyone who simply wants to see the world, regardless of how they do it! Really, sometimes I just want to say:

“The only thing worse than a judgmental person is a judgmental traveler, and that judgmental traveler is you!”

Too harsh? Maybe. But, my point is this: Every traveler is different. Every trip is different. We’ve traveled so quickly this past year because it’s what we wanted to do this time around. We do actually stay in one place for more than a couple of days, but sometimes we don’t, and we’re ok with it. And yes, of course we get tired.

Do you know one traveler who doesn’t get tired ever? No, I didn’t think so.

When I get tired, I take a nap. When I get overwhelmed, I order pizza and watch a movie (or several episodes of American tv) in my hotel room – unless we’re in Africa and I watch a movie – if we have power – without the pizza. And when I need to slow my roll (like today) I walk around for a couple of hours, maybe take some pictures, maybe not, and then (especially if it’s not the most exciting city in the world- like, maybe Trujillo) I call it a day.