Applying for a green card

Getting a green card is the basic necessity to go the States. It allows you not only to go there but also to stay there for an unlimited amount of time. Furthermore, it includes the permission to work. The dispersion of green cards is necessary because otherwise people from all over the world would come to the United States and very soon there would be far more people than jobs available. Needless to say that this would soon lead to severe social problems and many people being unemployed.

Immigrants have to go through a three-step process to get the allowance to permanently stay in the US. If you are looking for a deeper insight on all things concerning a green card you can get more information here. According to the nationality and the kind of immigrant category the process of getting a green card may take several months or even years. While the case is pending the applicant can obtain two permits.

• The Employment Authorization Document
  This is a temporary work permit which enables the applicant to take a job in the US.
• The advance parole
  The advance parole is a temporary travel document which grants the applicant the right to re-enter the United States.

A word about the weather

Of course I have to mention the weather: I expected it to be hot and stuffy all the time but it can get quite cold during the nights, especially in Bolivia. Nevertheless, during the day it is really hot in most places. I am not complaining, however, since I really do prefer this to autumn, wind and cold and grey weather. I would really like to see and experience even more countries and see what they are like in terms of their characteristics, their inhabitants and their habits. Brazil would be another great place to go and I’ve heard that the weather in Rio de Janeiro is awesome.

Generally, we really enjoyed our time in South America. Though it takes some time to get used to how things are handled here, it is absolutely worth the trip.

Its not only advantageous to make a secure payment while traveling, even at home you will want to be assured of the certainty of your payment.

Secure money transfer as fast as possible

A big advantage of these transfer methods is that it’s hard to run out of money while traveling. Either you still have some money stashed in a savings account or you’ve got a great family that will help you through bad times. On the other hand though, this pro can also become quite a disadvantage when you’re inclined to always make use of these possibilities.

While you can be sure to be able to continue your travels since secure transfers are a definite option for that, you should also ponder on whether its a good idea to actually use them. Sometimes having the security just takes your mind off all the insecurities you have whilst traveling. Having these safety measures in the back of your head can actually also help you make a long term travel happen since it’s often these insecurities that prevent people from booking a trip and starting a journey.

Its not about the money

While transferring money securely is very important, its not just about the money, its all about being secure whilst traveling. This also, for example, includes your mobile devices, identification etc.

I have noticed, when my long term planning is failing me because I can’t work up the courage to actually go and just fly out for a few months, that searching the last minute travel deals helps me immensely to just get off the couch and into the plane. Being a big fan of actually trying to plan my travels, even though it never actually quite works out as I imagined it, I try to have some makeshift plans ready even for last minute decisions. And when I say last minute it’s usually one to two days before the flight goes.

Last minute bustle

Bustling around, trying to get my head straight, trying to pack everything, and still missing at least a few essentials, I try to give myself some sense of security in researching where I’m actually going. If I just booked a flight it is also a big help to look for some accommodation, usually a quaint little hostel where I wouldn’t mind staying a few nights.
Also, getting a few food vouchers so you don’t have to think too much about food is a good idea. It’s very easy to get this sort of vouchers on different websites as Groupon. Food vouchers also give you a bit of a starting point in the new country or city. Now that I am certain I am going to survive at least for a while with my pre-planned stuff I can take it easy.
Once on the way everything usually runs more smoothly than you would have guessed, especially if you are prepared for every worst case scenario like me. While on long term travels it is also a good idea to take a lot of pictures, so your dear ones at home can share the incredible things you see and do.

In Bolivia the last thing we needed was an out-of-tune marching band clattering their way down the street outside our window but unfortunately that’s exactly what we got. Just to add to the ‘music’, during their brief intermissions, a slow constant baseline could be heard from the several nearby clubs. So far Bolivia had pissed us both off! We were freezing cold, couldn’t breathe due to the altitude, couldn’t sleep and were unimpressed by the busy dirty streets of La Paz. There was only one reason we were here and that was to catch a bus to Uyuni to visit the largest salt flats in the world.

The overnight bus to Uyuni takes 12 hours. 12 long, rickety bumpy hours. It was the bumpiest bus journey I have ever been on, I nearly bit my tongue off! No one got any sleep and at 5 am the bus mysteriously stopped. Assuming it was just another stop to let locals on (to sleep in the aisles, as you do). I tried to catch a few winks whilst the bus was still. Little did we know we had actually arrived at our destination but the bus driver had locked us in as it was too dangerous to walk around at this time. He didn’t tell anyone this until 7am when he unlocked the doors so everyone was a little confused and freaked out!

We had pre-booked a hostel after our previous disasters with finding a room. We couldn’t check in until 1pm so had to fill 6 hours. We met up with a bunch of other tourists and wandered around the small town like unwashed/unslept zombies and eventually booked a tour of the famous salt flats. The rest of the day was dedicated to napping and eating. The next morning we arrived at the travel agency ready to go. We were informed that even though we booked a tour for 5 people we would now be a group of 7. We were annoyed as the jeep would be very squashed and weren’t given any money back. As we complained the woman went completely of the handle and tried to blame us and even tried to remove Ben and I of the tour as we were ‘making trouble’ by complaining! We had no choice and had to board the cramped jeep. We left with a bad taste in our mouth but it turned out we had so much fun with this group that it didn’t matter we were a little cramped.

As the first 80′s rock anthemn played in Figo’s (our driver) car we knew it was going to be a fun tour.  As compact as we were it seemed like we were the party jeep, playing loud music and basically behaving like children. Our first stop was a train graveyard. It was a very surreal place where old British mining trains lay rusting and wasting away in the desolate yet beautiful desert.

“Hold on’ Someone’s nicked me engine!”

“All aboard!”

I wish British Rail was this comfy

Later on, we made it to the heart of the stunning salt flats where we saw how the locals carefully piled the salt up into mounds to dry out before later returning and collecting,  after all the tourists had clambered all over them to take photos of course.

Just need a bag of fish and chips

Patterns in the salt

Our next stop was fish island, an island in the middle of the salt flats covered in ancient cacti. It was really surreal climbing it, thousands of years ago, this island would have been a coral reef deep beneath the ocean.

Fish Island

In front of Fish Island

After a delicious lunch we took some obligatory perspective altering salt flat photos. These were great fun and Figo, being the legend that he was, drove us to another area with no tourists to take some more shots while the other groups waited back at the hostel. He even gave us a dinosaur to play with. Best group ever!

Rahhhh!!!

Giant Coke!

Jumping!

Who said Ben’s got big feet?

There was a man who lived in a shoe

Best group ever!

“Vast”

The hostel was completely made out of salt, even the floor.  It was pretty cool although it meant everything you owned now had a light dusting of the white stuff, good luck trying to to get through customs after a day on the salt flats! Apparently salt’s not a great insulator, and the first night certainly wasn’t the warmest… though we were yet to find out that it could be much much worse.

The Salt Hotel

Dinner Time in the Salt Hotel

The next day the party jeep (now armed with an exciting playlist of 132 classic tunes) headed to some beautiful lakes. The water was so crystal clear that you could see the reflection of the volcanoes and mountains.  Here a bunch of surprisingly smelly flamingos provided us with some excellent photo opportunities.  It was here we found out Figo’s nickname amongst the other drivers was ‘El Flamenco’ (The Flamingo), which we did not use to make fun of him at every opportunity 

The Party Car

Flags in the Salt Flats

Tam eating Ben

Ben learned a new trick

Crooning

Stunning rock formations in Bolivia

We were warned that our next hostel was very basic, and it was.  It was freezing cold and we longed for the now mild temperatures of the salt hostel we had stayed in the night before but we were prepared and a rather violent game of cards we all went to bed in all our clothes, hat, scarf, gloves and cocooned ourselves in our sleeping bags.  The next morning we were woken up by a 5:40am alarm and the coughing and spluttering of a sickly member of our party.  We had to be on the road early as it was a long way back to Uyuni.  Our first stop this morning was the Sulfur Gizas.  These were amazing shafts of bellowing stream rising out if the earth’s crust, imagine the film Total Recall, where they release the atmosphere with the alien device at the end of the film – it looked just like that – except without the eyes being sucked out of the sockets part.  We were allowed to walk right up to them and peer into the bubbly crevasses – sometimes absolutely no health and safety rules are a great thing.

Total Recall eat your heart out

Kettle’s boiled!

Stunning scenery in Bolivia

A volcano in Bolivia

Tam holding Ben

Flamingos!

Our next stop was a wonderful warm water pool.  All of us were a little reluctant to strip off in the freezing temperatures but we were rewarded with a glorious warm bath, which for many on the tour turned out to be their first wash of the 3 day tour…mmmmmmm.
On the way back to Uyuni we stopped of at some volcanic rock formations which Ben and I had great fun climbing in and around.

The gang of us

It was truly a trip of great highs and lows, 5000 ft in the air but with temperatures much lower than your average brit is able to tolerate.

Polite as he was, he elected to wait as we carried our bags into the rather posh looking Hostel… which turned out not to be a Hostel at all, but infact a 5 star luxury hotel. As we walked up the steps to the front door, it couldn’t have been more obvious to us that this palace was way out of our budget.. but how could we turn back after all our little soldier of a cab driver had gone through to get us here… So reluctantly, we entered.

We began flicking through the leaflets at the front desk, pretending to discuss the price and services available, all the while trying to avoid eye contact with the guy behind the desk, and keeping one eye fixated outside, trying to buy time waiting for the cab driver to leave… but oh no, now was the perfect time to begin polishing the car.. so we continued awkwardly fingering leaflets and began asking pointless questions about which rooms had a sea view and whether or not their room service was 24 hours.

Eventually the cab driver did leave, his car looking spick and span, polished to perfection. The hotel clerk I think by this point had realised we had no intention of staying, to be honest he probably knew from the moment we walked through the door.. 5 months traveling through South America on chicken buses doesn’t exactly do wonders for your self presentation. We asked the accommodating clerk if there was anywhere a little more economic and he gladly advised us of a couple of places a few hundred meters up and along the beach.

We hiked up our bags and began walking, only to hear a beep 5 minutes later.. we looked around, and there he was – sailing past was our cab driver waving out of his window with a look of complete amusement at the fact we were now walking back up the road with our bags on our backs to the first hostel he had driven us too when we first got into Trujillo. Yep, we really fooled everyone.

We found a lovely hostel/hotel eventually which was more in our price range. We had a beautiful view of the sea from our private balcony, a lovely, if a little chilly, swimming pool and we even had our own bath (Ben got a little upset as we checked out as he had forgotten to have one). We relaxed for a few days, sunbathing, walking along the beach and drinking cocktails.

Ben on the Beach in Trujillo

Tam Sunbathing

Ben Working

We didn’t want to leave but another long bus was calling. We were off to Lima on possibly the most amazing bus I’ve ever been on. We’re talking hot meals served seat-side (or should I make that “reclining sofa-side”),  tea, popcorn and cake. I know it seems like we’re getting over excited here, but in South America, it really is the little things, and when it comes to buses, we’ve been on some hell rides. It was great to have a little luxury. It got to the point where we didn’t want to leave the Bus. I mean seriously, hot food is delivered to your seat, drinks and snacks are frequent, at any time you can just push a button and recline into a blissful slumber. Instead, what was waiting for us at the end of the bus journey? A bunch of scammers trying to hurry us into their less than comfortable hostels, taxi drivers fighting over who got to take the fare, the cold bitter early morning air, heavy heavy bags, all this amounting to at least an hour and a half’s worth of stress. Yes, it’s fair to say we would have happily spent a week on that bus.

Dinner time on the best bus ever!

All good things must come to an end unfortunately, and getting off the bus was every bit as painful as we had anticipated, unbeknown to us we had chosen the weekend of Peruvian Independence to stay in the country’s capital city, Lima. Exciting you might think? No, not really, the only major difference was the rates for rooms had doubled and everywhere was fully booked. We hopped into one of the fighting cabbie’s taxis and he started driving us from hostel to hostel, we gave him  the names of two or three which he repeatedly ignored, opting instead to drive us around the city to a bunch of hostels he thought would have rooms. As we sat there, thinking back to just a few hours before, where we had been so happy on our wonderful bus, he turned a corner and found a place colorfully known as “The Red Physco Llama” and luckily for us, they had rooms (expensive rooms!). We took the hit, and checked in for two nights. On the second, we decided to have a fat night so we went out to get pizza and wings to bring back to the room. The receptionist causally asked “What time were you planning to leave? Because your room is booked for tonight”. This was 7pm.  Ben calmly articulated our concerns (for one being on the streets, and two being that it clearly said in the book that we weren’t checking out until the next day!), I on the other hand struggled to contain my anger, and started throwing all the tools from the backpackers utility belt at her – threatened to tell trip advisor, bursting into tears. In otherwords I went a bit mental (those of you who know me can probably imagine the scene).  Nothing could be done so we sulkily retreated back to our room to pack our things. No Pizza tonight

5 minutes later there was a quiet knock at the door.  I opened it to the woman I had just pitched my hissy fit at and she informed us that we could stay and they would figure something out.  I was more than a little embarrassed but it just goes to show a few tears will get you anywhere

Our next destination was a village called Ica.  It was a beautiful place next to a lake and surrounded by enormous sand dunes.  We had real difficulty finding a place to stay again due to the Peruvian Independence festivities.  Everywhere was either booked up or triple the normal place.  We eventually found a room above a bar (sweet!) and, as we weren’t going to get any sleep, decided to go clubbing (if you can’t beat them join them and all that).  We met another English couple who were as stylish as us, so dressed in lama jumpers, hiking boots and trousers that zip of into 3 sections we entered the club (we’re sexy and we know it!).

Sexy and we know it

The next morning (with bad heads) we were off to do our sand buggy and boarding tour.  The buggy had 12 seats and one rev of its engine would set off all the car alarms in the street.  Ben and I were slightly concerned when a quiet an elderly Peruvian man struggled to get out of the buggy and introduced himself as the driver.  This wasn’t going to be the mad adrenaline-pumping ride we were hoping for, this concern grew when the 6 year old girl got in the same buggy.  How wrong we were.  The driver turned out to be an absolute legend, and floored it all the way up the first steep sand dune.  He went at lightning speed, racing up, over and down the dunes despite the screaming girl in the back.  At some of the steepest dunes he stopped at the top and let us slide down on sand boards.  Ben stood up all the way (like a boss) and I opted to slide down on my belly as this was the position I was going to end up in anyway.

Ben on the Sand Beast

Hanging out in the Desert

Ben Sandboarding

Just to put it in perspective

Ben working, again

Dog in a coat. ‘Nuff said

After lunch (and showering sand from all sorts of places) we caught a bus to a town called Nazca.  This town is famous for huge mysterious line drawings in the desert, discovered recently but dated back as early as 2000 BC.  They also featured in the latest Indiana Jones movie which I insisted we watched again as soon as we could (it’s still as bad as I remembered).  We booked onto a tour to see the huge drawings in the sand.  They were pretty amazing.  We visited the house of the German woman who discovered them.  She dedicated her entire life to discovering their meanings and died at the ripe old age of 95 in 1998 (she never had a boyfriend, bless her).  In the evening we visited a planetarium to learn more about these lines and the correlation to the stars.  We also got to look at the moon through a telescope which had nothing to do with the Nazca lines but was pretty cool.

A Frog?

The Mona Lisa?

“I can’t see it Tam”

That evening we took a bus to a city called Arequipa.  Here we had the most amazing meal ever…beef fondue that you could cook yourself at the table.  We couldn’t afford the wine in the restaurant so went to a supermarket, bought a bottle and sat on the roof of hostel to drink it in the moon light… bliss!

A hot beef injection

After a few days of not going to museums and churches we headed to a place called Puno.  Here we visited the largest high altitude lake in the world and I got my picture taken with a sailor.   It was a good day!

“Because we’re worth it“

Tam and a rather ‘Russian-looking’ sailor

From here we booked on to a bus to take us to Bolivia.  After checking with 3 different tourists agencies that it was only one bus all the way there, we discovered that it was actually 2 buses and a boat, and one of the buses we had to scramble to get seats.  Lesson learned: all Peruvian tour operators lie….consistently.  Being seasoned travelers and let’s not forget, British, we slid our way to the front and managed to get the last two seats. No one messes with two brits abroad.

The weather was less than perfect and flip flops were no longer appropriate to the new weather conditions – torrential rain. The project coordinator, Francisco drove us to what was to be our home for the next 4 weeks, a little hostel in the centre of Quito.

The first few nights were sleepless to say the least, the Hostel which was situated between several noisy clubs was pretty basic, and our room consisted of two single beds, only one of which was habitable. Needless to say after just a few nights in the Hostel from hell we dubiously decided to take Francisco up on his offer to stay with a Spanish speaking host family – our Spanish at this point has not improved much beyond ordering a coffee.

As luck would have it, Francisco found us a place at his parent’s place. A beautiful house on the city limits. What an upgrade, our room had gone from a 1 bed flea pit to a stunning double at the top the house with lovely views and an en-suite bathroom.

Quito is a beautiful city that lies in the valley of the Andes. The altitude made small tasks extremely difficult, like walking up stairs (at least that was my excuse). It’s peculiar, you can be doing little or nothing and find yourself gasping for breath.

Can you guess where Ben’s going?

Following a couple of meetings at the volunteer center, we were ready to begin work on our Ecuadorian volunteer project, this time was at a child day care centre for street kids. They were very cute, in a nose-dribbley kind of way. It wasn’t exactly what we had expected, finding most of our day to be spent listening to kids whining “poca me pour favour” – meaning, “Push me please” as they directed us towards the swings in the playground. They could literally spends hours and hours on those swings, and heaven forbid we should stop to give our flagging muscles a rest. A fleeting rest given the inevitable “Poca me pour favour” that would immediately follow our break, a request we would have to give into if only to stop our hearts bleeding.

Some of the kids on the project in Quito

Tam, loosing the ‘Puca Me’ battle

Ben bullying people smaller than he is

Whilst in Quito we visited the middle of the world, literally. First we had a look round the ‘fake’ equator line which is actually 200 m from the actual line but I guess the government couldn’t be bothered to move it (nor admit their mistake). Next up was the real line and indigenous museum which was much more interesting. We did all kinds of experiments like watching the changing direction of water down a plug hole as we moved the bucket from one hemisphere to the other, balancing (or trying to balance) an egg, tests whereby which you could feel the different forces on your body as you stood right on the equator itself. You actual weigh less on the equator line( I was very happy here). Unexpectedly, one of the local workers took a shine to us and brought a little box from a back room, asked us to put our camera away and then lifted the lid, to reveal a shockingly detailed real shrunken head, incredibly fascinating and equally as gross.

The less exciting shrunken head we were allowed to photograph

THE MIDDLE OF THE WORLD!

Standing on the ‘Fake’ equator line

Another view of the fake equator

The real equator line

Tam trying to balance an egg on the end of a nail on the equator

Tam and more signs!

YUM! Guinea Pigs

A few days into our project, Ben got severe case of food poisoning, we have a sneaking suspicion it may be something to do with a rather suspicious bowl of soup he ate, one in which half way through eating he found a chickens foot. I guess some people just can’t handle their chicken feet! I don’t know exactly what happened during the 5 hours he spent locked in our posh en-suite bathroom, needless to say he came out a couple of stone lighter than when he went in. I’m pretty sure he exorcized a few demons during that night. Something else happened which relates to a particular story from our adventures at Camp America, but it’s not blog friendly, you’ll have to ask him about it in person.

Around and about in Quito

Beautiful views of the hills in Quito

The angel at the top of the hill in Quito (Note Tam’s photography skills improving)

Ben with Quito in the background

Tam in the cable car to the top of the mountains that surround Quito

The view from the top

Ben explaining to a local why he wouldn’t enjoy this chicken

Tam enjoying the view

We spent the weekends visiting other local beauty spots, one of which was a real surprise, and absolutely stunning. A lagoon which now sits inside the crater of an inactive volcano, the tour was pretty straight forward, about 6 hours from Quito with a stop at a local market and a local indigenous person’s mud hut. When we got to the top of the volcano and saw the view, we were truly blown away, it’s amazing. We then hiked down inside the volcano crater to the waters edge, and took some canoes out on the lagoon, while a local man played the same 6 notes on his home made flute. Everything comes at a price it would seem, as following our playful canoeing time, we faced a grueling 2 hour hike up a near vertical slope to get to the top of the volcano and to the meal which we new awaited us at the top.

The mud hut, shared with 50 Guinea Pigs

The incredible lagoon

Tam and our new Austrian friend Sara, literally

Ben in front of the Lagoon

Llamas at the Market!

The Market

Francisco and his Family – Big thank you for having us!

After 3 weeks volunteering with children, the project organizers mentioned there was an opportunity to go and stay in the Amazon Rainforest to work with animals, given our fantastic experience in Guatemala we jumped at the offer. Unfortunately, thanks to my spending a little too much time hugging and kissing children,  I contracted some child related disease and was sick the entire time in the jungle. Sickness it seems has its upside, as it got me out of doing any physical labour which included carrying rocks, sand and cement up and down the mountain (Ben is now half his former self – a combination of demon exorcizing and heavy lifting). Our room in the jungle or ‘shed’ as it became affectionately known, was in such a beautiful setting in the heart of the rainforest that you could almost forget that it had no electricity, toilet paper, meat or alcohol.

Beautiful, but drafty

The Amazon Rainforest

As with all rainforests sheds, this one came with its own pet toucan “Zazu” (best name ever) and a few dozen wild squirrel monkeys. Our duties included feeding and cleaning cages of parrots, monkeys, hogs and weird beaver things – I’m sure they were called Picachus (or at least it sounded like that’s what they were called – tho rest assured they weren’t cute or yellow). Getting to the cages was the most difficult part as they were in the most ridiculous places, up muddy hills, over streams and through dense forest. I’ve never seen so much mud in my life (and I’ve been to music festivals!). We learned many skills during the project, like how to mix cement without a cement mixer, how to dodge a moody toucan and where not to stand outside a dangerous monkey cage (very distressing story involving my hair and a very angry monkey, the monkey won and I now have a small bald spot )

Zazu the Moody Toucan

A few of the locals

Tam doing her David Attenborough thing with the camera

Another cute Squirrel Monkey picture

Ben does his best Zazu impression

Good Morning!

Ben and the guys who run the animal centre

Tam and the guys who run the animal centre

On our last day one of the owners took us to an amazing waterfall in the heart of the amazon and we all went for a rather nippy swim. It was the perfect end to our amazon adventure, and a great way to wash of all that mud and monkey poo!

Swimming in the waterfall

Last on the Ecuadorian travel itinerary was Banos, a little place set in the mountains with a focus on adrenaline based fun. We took a day out on our 5 year anniversary to go white water rafting, Tam started the day a reluctant fraidy-cat, but finished the day a full blown adrenaline junky – white water rafting agreed with Tam! We also took some time to bathe in the natural hot-water pools, rich in minerals and boiling hot thanks to the volcanic activity below ground.

White Water Rafting in Banos – Note the excitement on Tam’s face

She still hasn’t stopped smiling

]]> http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/ecuador/ecuador-middle-world-1012/feed/ 7 http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/nicaragua/nicaragua-969/ http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/nicaragua/nicaragua-969/#comments Sat, 07 Jul 2012 03:22:44 +0000 Tamara http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/?p=969 Continue reading →]]> Its fair to say I had no idea we would be traveling through this country (yes, yes my geography is shocking, even though I have a degree in it). After meeting a lovely brother and sister from Holland while we were in Guatemala who had been to Nicaragua, we had a rough plan of where to go and what to do. On the bus from Honduras we met a Swedish couple who gave us maps and a horror story of how they got held hostage in Nicaragua. (don’t worry nothing like this happened to us!)

Armed with far too much information we started our tour in a little town called Leon. The place is famous because it houses the largest Cathedral in Central America. Quite frankly it looked a little average and in need of major restoration! We planned a few days in Leon, walking around and exploring. We spent most of the time eating at different restaurants and then planning where to eat next.

The biggest Cathedral in Central America (Really?)

We took a chicken bus to Granada where we would spend the next few days. A chicken bus is basically a decommissioned American school bus filled to the brim with local passengers, food sellers and a handful of very scared looking backpackers. There is only enough room to sit sideways (as the bus was originally intended to take small children) and often someone is practically sitting in your lap as the aisles are packed with people struggling to balance as the driver erratically stops and starts to let anybody on at any time. The words ‘bus stop’ or ‘full capacity’ have no meaning here.

Granada is a beautiful city that came alive at night with street performers, musicians and dancers. We treated ourselves to a lovely hotel with a massive pool. Again, we spent the time eating and deciding where to eat! Oh and swimming.

Next up was a place called Ometepe: an island formed from two volcanoes surrounded by lush rainforest. It was beautiful! Feeling far too relaxed we decided to book a hike up Nicaragua’s second highest volcano: Concepcion. Now many of you know the enjoyment I get from physical exercise (yeah right!) so I can tell you I was more that a little worried climbing this thing, especially with what happened last time I attempted to climb a mountain (broken leg: case in point). I had also Googled the hike and trip adviser stated to only attempt this hike if you are peak physical condition, which i am definitely not!

We had booked to do this hike with a few people from the bus we’d met (the other scared looking backpackers on the chicken bus).  Unfortunately they turned out to be crazy physically fit triathlon winners and so I panted and struggle behind them, trying to look like I was enjoying myself (I wasn’t). Anyway we made it to the top, Ben was super at encouraging me during the 3 hour uphill trek, and we took in the amazing view. It was spectacular but I’m in no rush to climb another one!

The hike begins…

10 Minutes in.. already knackered!

Not raining… that’s pure sweat

We ARE having a GOOD TIME!

Three hours later.. made it!

The view from the top

“YEAH! I CLIMBED A VOLCANO TODAY”

We spent quite a while at the top, somehow going back down didn’t seem too appealing

After this rather traumatic experience I demanded some beach time so we took another chicken bus to the other side of the island and booked in to a cute little cottage right on the shore. It was a strange beach as the sand was black and the water was fresh as the island is set within a lake. The waves were incredible and Ben and I had fun trying not to be totaled by them. We bumped into a couple of the mental athletes who were walking by our cottage – off to visit some lagoons or something. “it’s only 7km, wanna come?”. Ben read the expression on my face and politely declined. He knows me so well!

A beach with a view!

Yeah we did!

To celebrate this award winning accommodation (haha!) we decided to head into town for a few drinks. Le Ceiba proved to be an interesting mix of crack heads and whores. After refusing both (we promise) we ran back to our hallway, praying that we wouldn’t get malaria/murdered. It was not a peaceful sleep. The next morning we caught the first boat out of there to an island called Utila.

As soon as our feet hit land we were surrounded by people telling us to visit their hostel, promising a free night and boasting about their diving packages. We spent the afternoon searching for the best deal (we found a cracker, that came with cheap diving plus a lovely hotel complete with it’s own pet monkey). J, Ben and I signed up to do our PADI (it’s the cheapest place in the world to do it, we couldn’t say no!), then we spent a couple of days exploring Utila before our dive course began.

As if we haven’t had enough Monkey action

A trained monkey handler at work

J strikes a pose, I think he’s the one on the right

The highest rated bar in the world according to the Lonely Planet – 16 years in the making!

More of the best bar!

Bits of broken glass, plates, whatever, meticulously glued to the walls

A spider we found on the beach

Off to sit on a private island and drink some Rum for a few hours

The private island we were off to

The dive course got off to a slow start, some very boring videos, some quizzes (which Ben and J copied from me) and lessons on the basics of diving. Our confined water dive went OK apart from when I accidentally dropped the weight belt and started floating up to the surface while the panicked dive master and assistant had to lie on me to reattach it (oooppppss!). Our first open water dive couldn’t have been in worse conditions either: the sky was black with angry clouds, it was raining and it was more than a little choppy! Luckily for us, as one assistant put it, “it never rains underwater” (this man is a GENIUS!) so once we were underwater the weather was not a problem. It was a cool dive and after my ears finally equalized, we completed all our skills. One Canadian in our group was rather sea sick (more likely severely hung over) and quit his dive course there and then. Of course we were all very sympathetic and didn’t make fun of him at all .

When we weren’t diving on Utila we spent our time trying to find the cheapest place to eat, which resulted in mass baliada consumption from street vendors (a baliada is a massive fajita with veg or meat and beans) . Utila was basically an island where people dived in the day and got drunk in the evening (every evening). It was like dive university, although I don’t think Ben and I could have stayed longer than 8 days as I couldn’t keep up (not 18 anymore!) and Ben couldn’t stop. So we prized ourselves away from ‘the island you can never leave’ and headed west along the Honduran coastline. We found (actually the boys found) the most amazing hotel ever, 2 pools, ac and right on the beach for just $10. It put the hallway to shame, although this isn’t hard to do. We grabbed dinner at a nearby hotel ran by 2 of the craziest people ever and ate ‘the most amazing burger in the world’ according to the lonely planet travel guide. It was pretty good.

The next morning we traveled to some more gorgeous islands and snorkeled over beautiful coral. We stayed on our own private island, a tiny place with no electricity or running water. We spent the day sunbathing, swimming and eating homemade meals cooked for us by the only couple that live there. This was the highlight of Honduras! We might have had another one of those burgers before we left for Nicaragua. I mean “best burger in the world” we had to!

The dock on our private tropical paradise

Our Neighbours

Birds on the dock in paradise

Tam snorkeling in paradise

A room with a view!

A tree Ben chopped down with his bare hands for firewood

Tam doing what she does best

The cutest pick-pocket in the world

Our posh hotel on the beach

We took a few days out to visit a place called Semuc Champey in Guatemala, a whole other story and a whole other blog post which i’ve yet to write, but after our trip to Semuc, we hopped on a bus to Belize City, where we to get a connecting boat which would take us across the sea to the beautiful island cayes to meet up with Jimmy, Laura, Angela and J.

As we got off the boat, not knowing really what to expect we looked around for a main road, it soon became apparent that there were no cars on Caye Caulker, instead this was a tiny little carribean island haven, with 3 dirt roads which ran the length of the island in parallel, walkable from end to end in 10 minutes. The only vehicles on the island were Golf Carts and bicycles. Day and night these little golf buggies would race up and down the 3 dirt roads, and every 10 meters or so was a local with a barbeque serving up huge pieces of Barbeque chicken soaked in spicy Belize sauce, served with a generous portion of Rice and Beans. Simply awesome, food for the soul! At the tip of the island was a place called “The Split” – where quite literally a tornado had torn through the land causing a 30 meter split from one side of the island to the other which the sea now inhabited – the split had a perfectly positioned bar right on the tip, with tables and chairs pitched in the shallow crystal clear seawater, so you could grab a beer, and spend the day lazing around on what was left of the pier or paddling and swimming in the sea. Simply beautiful.

There were literally hundreds of coconuts in the palm trees on the island, thinking of inventive new methods of climbing the trees and even more inventive methods for cracking the coconuts became almost a daily occurrence, there is a nack to it, which we did eventually figure out, one thing i can say with absolute confidence, is that folding a beer bottle top in half and attempting to saw the coconut in half is not the most efficient method, nor is bashing it intently on every side from every direction on a rusty nail sticking out from the underneath of an old pier.

Another highlight; we rented out a jetski between the 6 of us, no doubt some of you saw Tam’s facebook updates around the time – something about dreams coming true if my memory serves me. Tam has been hinting at a jetski ride since our trip began, we almost rented one out in Fiji, but were put off by the cost. It was worth the wait, we had half a day with the Jetski and giant rubber tube, we had the entire north side of the island to ourselves, not another jetski in sight, we burned through an obscene amount of fuel, and took some pretty nasty high speed tumbles out of the ring, but luckily there were no serious injuries. The day was a complete success, with Tamara proving herself to be a natural Jetski driver, and a bit of a speed junkie, she scared the shit out of Angela and J when she took them out for a ride, but everyone was impressed with her cool demeanor and expert handling. Tamara took her new found love out for one last ride, we watched her speed of into the distance, cornering with cat like precision, she spun it round and headed back in towards us all for the final time. Slowing down with grace and control as she neared the pier, she had her self face on towards the pier with about 15 meters to go, she continued forward, at a steady pace, which was no longer decreasing. I watched her with interest, wondering how she was going to swing it right or left to pull up parallel with the pier for her final dismount, she continued forward. She continued forward, still looking cool as a cucumber and in complete control, even though it looked as if she was heading straight for the pier with no intention to turn, her poker face gave me so much confidence that i just watched, saying nothing. 5 Seconds later she careered into the dock with an almighty bang, and the inevitable “crumpling plastic” sound as the front of the Jetski cracked and warped as it hit the sold wooden beams holding the dock up. It literally shook the pier. Almost immediately everyone turned around with a shocked sigh, and Tamara and the Jetski bounced backwards swinging slightly to the left. Tamara now not looking quite so cool, instead, somewhat flustered, said somthing along the lines of “no no it’s fine it’s fine.” The sound of crumbling plastic had the rest of us on the pier feeling doubtful, as we leaned forward off the pier to try and examine the front of the Jetski, which actually looked remarkably in tact, with no immediate damage visible we all breathed a sigh of relief. The next minute, the guy who had rented us the Jetski and his buddy came running down the pier towards us, shouting what was that bang, and he like us, started straining off the end of the pier to see if he could see any damage on the Jetski, as Tam shifted her weight subtly to try to turn the front of the Jetski away from him. He asked again, what was that bang, and an awkward silence began to descend, I at this point was formulating some overly complicated lie, but it was taking way to long, and the silence was growing longer, until, Tam, cool as you like, rolls this beauty off the tongue. “Ah it’s OK, it was just my water bottle falling off the bench.” In utter disbelief i daren’t even look at his reaction, but amazingly it seemed to satisfy him. Yes, that almighty bang, and quake like shaking was caused by Tam’s plastic water bottle falling 1 and a half feet from the bench to the floor of the pier. Genius.

I think we probably consumed our own weight in Rum in the 8 days we spent on that island, we had only actually planned to spend a few days there, but it was the sort of place you just couldn’t leave. Me and Tam got ourselves a whole Air Conditioned apartment for only $35 USD a night.

One of the many piers on Caye Cauker, Belize

Ben, so proud of his Coconut!

A perfectly circular rainbow after a storm in Caye Caulker

When the sun shone, it shone, when it stormed, IT STORMED!

Tam enjoying her favorite past time.

Proud of yet another Coconut!

Tam at the Split, Caye Caulker

From left to right, Laura, Angela and Jimmy

Tam with an awesome pose, and an awesome tan

So this bar gives you unlimited Rum and a massive meal for $7 USD!

A Rose between to thorns? The girl to my left is Nele, another volunteer from Arcas who came out to meet us in Caye Caulker. Nele is Awesome, Nuff Said.

Enjoying a cultural, horizon expanding trip

Tam, Angela and J in the Split

We left Caye Caulker, heading for Honduras, with a couple of planned stops along the way, transportation around central is a bit hit an miss, this was most definitely a miss.

Tam ready to board a Chicken Bus

So Roomy!

Tam and Jimmy in a Bar in Placencia (Note Laura in the background)

The six of us

Our next stop, Honduras. But that’s a different blog post. Until next time.

]]> http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/belize/belize-it-933/feed/ 2 http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/guatemala/baby-monkey-tams-bundle-joy-poo-904/ http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/guatemala/baby-monkey-tams-bundle-joy-poo-904/#comments Thu, 17 May 2012 06:17:07 +0000 Ben http://www.boshanka.co.uk/travel-blog/?p=904 Continue reading →]]> So whilst everyone else was getting squawked at by angry parrots, or getting their brooms stolen by crazed Spider Monkeys, Tamara was busy tending to one of the youngest residents at the Arcas Wildlife Rescue centre.

It was only a week or so after we had arrived, that Alejandro, the captain at Arcas, held Tam back with a pretty serious look on his face, I’m sure she won’t mind me saying that she looked pretty panicked. In true Tam style, she immediately assumed she was in some kind of trouble, perhaps he knew about the dead parrot she had hidden in the freezer? Or maybe he had found the stash of Vodka she had hidden in the Snapping Turtle’s pond.

You all know where this is going, but a man’s got to pad a blog post out. I was pretty sure that Alejandro’s private meeting with Tam was about the baby monkey – though had i known him as well then as i do now i might not have been so confident about that.. but sure enough – he held her back to give her the honor of caring for the resident baby spider monkey. The most sort after job on Arcas, and a role that was to make Tamara the envy of all the other volunteers – even me. Joking aside, this really was a great thing to be asked, and Tam was delighted, as I’m sure you can imagine. Anyone that knows her only need imagine her reaction to “Will you take care of this tiny cute baby monkey? Will you feed and care for him and teach him to climb?”

She did a great job of course, she had additional shifts (the downside of the job) – which meant she had to head down in the evenings in the dark to feed her new baby. She almost had to sacrafice thursday night drinks because of it.. but fortunately she managed to persuade one of the workers to feed little baby monkey so that mummy could go out and get drunk. I have a sneaking suspicion that Tam will be arranging another trip back to Arcas, Guatemala in 5 years time – to see baby monkey’s release into the wild. Good Luck Baby Monkey!!

 PLEASE NOTE: This monkey came into ARCAS care on the 29th of february at 549g, the 4th of may the day of the filming he was 655g, and right now he is 688g and eats by himself. The process of rehabilitation of spider monkeys includes hand feeding and introduction of tastes and textures for several weeks or months. He was fed with a syringe adapted with a bottle nipple for a few weeks, and then introduced to solid food (what is shown in the video), and now has grown into feeding by himself, this will lead to growth and strengthening before he can be introduced to more monkeys in a near future to form a troop and develop into a candidate for release within a healthy group. Due to their physiology juvenile spider monkeys bulge a lot after feeding and will have an almost empty digestive system within 2 or 3 hours.

This is what got Tam out of bed at 6am every morning…

Waiting for more food

Watching Mum

Ready for Bed

I AM BABY MONKEY!!!!

Trying to chew some Banana

Where baby monkey’s live

A handsome devil

Tam’s idea – “Make a climbing frame for Baby Monkey!”

Baby Monkey clutching Tam’s leg

Award for best comment on Facebook – “Looks like a heavy night”

Teaching baby monkey to climb – His prize for reaching the top – being picked up by Mummy Tam

The following day we had to get our connecting bus from Chetumal to Flores, a 9 hour journey from Mexico, through Belize and into Guatemala. The bus was tiny, and with very little legroom, I mean, this thing made an EasyJet flight seem spacious. AC was nowhere to be seen. It was a long bus ride.

Tam enjoying all that legroom

We eventually arrived at the start of the causeway which leads to the beautiful Isle of Flores, now began the all to familiar process of trying to contact the co-ordinatior of the project we were to be volunteering on. At least this time we had arrived in the middle of the day, making us feel a little safer than the arrival into Mexico. The first thing we noticed whilst we walked around looking for a wi-fi signal so we could skype one of the random Guatemalan numbers we had been given, was the sweltering heat, just lifting our bags off the bus caused us to sweat. We got in touch with someone who gave us some vague notion that a boat would arrive halfway up the causeway to pick us up – which would then take us across Lake Peten to Arcas – the wildlife rescue sanctuary that was to become our home for the next month.

We faffed around for a while, trying to figure out which side of the causeway our boat would arrive at. Then we would run back down the causeway to where there was a burger king with a wi-fi signal to use Skype to call the Guatemalan guy to confirm if we were definitely in the right spot. Then run back to where we thought the boat dock was to see if we could see the things he was talking about. We couldn’t, but luckily a boat did turn up, a tiny little thing which Arcas scribbled on the side of it with a marker pen. We were relieved to say the least. Next thing we knew, we were cruising along the beautiful Lake Peten towards another island in the middle of it that looked wild and covered by jungle. The driver switched off his engine, and proceeded to use a paddle to push the boat through the reeds, he said something to us in Spanish, I’m pretty sure it was about there being Crocodiles in the lake, but that it was still OK to go swimming.

On the boat to Arcas

The path to the Volunteer House – Just one of many we had to rake during chores

After a few more minutes we arrived at the foot of a steep bank, we clambered of the boat and began climbing the steps with our bags, it was a good hike to the top where the front office was situated, and by the time we got there we were absolutely pouring with sweat. We were greeted by a guy named Alejandro, a Guatemalan man who spoke perfect english and some might say he had a scottish twang to his accent. He was really welcoming, and helped Tam with her bag, we then hiked up the hill to the Casa de Voluntarios, or Volunteers house.  It was rustic, but nice – built using trees from the surrounding areas, a two story log cabin with four rooms at the top and four rooms on the bottom, each with two bunk beds and sharing a shower and toilet with the adjacent room. Only a flimsy bit of wire mesh covered the windows, no glass. There were gaps everywhere, in the walls, and the floors where the crooked trees which had been used to build it didn’t quite meet properly. We liked it immediately. We weren’t sharing our room with anyone else, so we got to spread out across the two bunk beds, we unpacked our stuff then headed down for dinner, which was at 6pm. This was to be the first of many plates full of tortillas and black beans.

The other volunteers already at Arcas, came and joined us, they all had bets on where we were from, I don’t think anyone won. We played cards with them until the power went out and we were plunged into darkness, someone flicked on a torch, at which point we were bombarded with giant moths and bugs all doing kamikaze dives into the light at the table. We all made a hasty retreat back to the volunteer house.

We were awoken at 6.15am to the sound of Greenday playing full blast from some serious speakers, we later learned this was Alejandro’s way of making sure his volunteers were never late for work, he lived in one of the rooms in the volunteers house too, so no chance of calling in sick. We followed the other volunteers down to Mammal Quarantine, where we were assigned cages and given our duties for the day. The typical Arcas day consisted of:

• 6.30am – 8.00am – Animal Breakfast
• 8.00am – 9.00am – Human Breakfast (and a meeting)
• 9.00am – 11.00am – Chores (usually some sort of backbreaking labour)
• 11.00am – 12.00pm – Animal Lunch
• 1.00pm – 2.00pm – Human Lunch
• 2.00pm – 3.00pm – Animal Dinner
• 3.00pm – Finish.

Real life Bambi

Our resident Anteater

The Toucans would try to attack but that beak was more a hindrance than a help

Lines up his target…

Charge!!!!

Would you trust this bird?

The Hawk, trained to attack as soon as his cage door was opened

He looks so innocent in this picture…

Breakfast time!

Juvenile monkey tucking into his dinner

Juvenile Spider Monkey

Juvenile Spider Monkey climbs the broom

Howler Monkey – These things sound just like Dinosaurs

Howler Monkey

Wild Howler Monkey and her baby

Caught a little off guard…

Feeding time for the Parrots

The Anteater – On a diet of Watermelon and blended dog biscuits… yum!

The Arcas Ocelot

Snapping Turtle

We were required to work seven days a week, with sundays being the only day we didn’t have to do chores between 9am and 11am. At 3.00pm, it was usual practice to head down to the Lake Shore, and spend a few hours swimming in the Lake and sunbathing on the docks, then with growing frequency, we would take a walk out of Arcas and along the lake front to a little old ladies house – who happened to have a fully stocked beer fridge which she would sell for 10 Quetzales a can – about £1. She became affectionately known as “Crazy Beer Lady”.

Drinks at Crazy Beer Ladies’ 

Taxiboats in Flores, Guatemala

One of many puppies which came to visit us at Crazy Beer Ladie’s place

Bunkbeds in the windows of the Volunteers House

Captain Alejandro

Time for the history lesson, Chichen Itza was a major focal point for the Yucatan Mayan people, the place itself was one of the largest Maya cities – and one of great mythical significance.

By far the most impressive of the Mayan Ruins (Yes we tried the clapping thing).

The Thousand Columns

Some more ruins (there were quite alot)

The Thousand C0lumns (Taken via Instagram)

Just incase you hadn’t got it by now…

Karl Pilkington’s got nothing on us.

The head of the snake

I’m told this was an ancient Mayan bench… 

Thanks to Julie for this awesome photo idea

Multiple Idiots Abroad

Seeing how many of us could fit on a tree stump

A little break for lunch and some awesome Nachos!

Our whirlwind day trip to Chichen Itza ended with us finding out our bus home had been oversold and there was no room for us – I mean literally no room – we physically couldn’t get on as it was wall to wall packed with people all the way to the door. No problem, in true British style we all marched right back into the bus depot and expressed our displeasure at our prebooked bus being over sold and how we demanded transportation be provided for us.. a rather bewildered Mexican eventually conceded and offered us the option of upgrading our tickets to first class.. how kind of him! But whatever, we had to get home, so we paid the difference (not alot but it’s the principle of the matter) and upgraded our tickets.. only to find out that first class just meant a smaller bus.. we spent the 3 hour journey crammed into the back of a minibus with half the space for double the cost of our original ticket.

The next day we decided to visit the beautiful sinkholes of Cuzama. This was to be a real mini adventure, starting with a 2 hour minibus ride, followed by a 15 minute half motorbike, half tuc-tuc contraption ride, followed by boarding a wagon pulled by horses across railway tracks through the jungles of the Yucatan to three giant underground sinkholes. Huge cave like rooms filled with cool, clear deep turquoise water .

The half Tuc-tuc, half motorbike thing

Boarding the Horse drawn wagon in Cuzama

We had to lift the wagon off the tracks each time another wagon came the other way

One of the sinkhole entrances

Tam makes a cautious entrance

The inside of the Sinkholes

Tam takes the plunge

Ben takes the biscuit

The aftermath

More swimming in the Sinkholes

We headed back home after an amazing day out in Cuzama, feeling exhausted and exhilarated! Ready for one last week in Merida before we made our way out to Guatemala.. tune in next time.

It was a fleeting visit back home. Our year long round the world travel insurance policy became null and void if we spent more than 10 days back in England, so it felt like no time at all until we were back on a plane, flying out of London Heathrow – like we had done just 6 months previously. It wasn’t South Africa we were to fly to this time though, it was Mexico. The plan? we were to go to Merida, to volunteer with children.

The journey to Mexico was not without incident. At London a particularly snooty air steward informed us, that we wouldn’t be able to sit together for part of the journey(even though we booked our tickets a year ago). To complicate matters further, our trip to Mexico involved changing planes in Paris (don’t ask me why). Luckily we got off to a flying start, so we didn’t have to sweat too much to make our connecting flight in Paris, a bit of a jog but nothing to stressful. Unfortunately, my bag was not keeping quite such a timely schedule, and being the independent, happy go lucky kind of bag it is, it took a few days out to see the sites of Paris.

We reached Mexico some time in the evening, and headed into baggage claim. We waited. Then we waited. We waited. Then just for a little change of pace, we waited some more. Some time later, a Mexican airport worker stuck his head through the little magic doorway (the one where conveyor belt brings through the bags) and said something in Spanish, we gathered enough from his hand gestures that there were no more bags coming through that little magic doorway today. A short while later, a sleepy looking Mexican man came sauntering over to the crowd of people all looking pretty none-plussed out about the closing of the magic doorway, and pointed us all to a little counter at the back of the room. It seemed this was pretty standard practice hear in Mexico. He wasn’t in the least bit surprised to see so many people all standing sans-bag.

The cock-up meant we missed our bus to Merida, which was another 4 hours away, meaning we had to get a separate bus into the local town and then onto Merida. At some point we also needed to contact the project co-oridinator in Merida that we were on our way. We had previously arranged everything at home.. I say we, I mean Tam. So the co-ordinator was already expecting us, but just to give two stressed out travellers more to deal with, they needed to be contacted again on arrival in Mexico. We found some free internet, and Tam sent the co-ordinator in Merida our arrival time, the co-ordinator replied with further details, we confirmed and then hopped on the bus. The beautiful beautiful bus. So much space, so much AC. It was a small consolation prize for the loss of my bag, but at least we were going to be comfortable for the next few hours.

We arrived in Merida at 1am, it was clear almost immediately that this was not a rich country. The roads were broken, the houses were broken, abandoned or falling down. There were stray dogs everywhere. But there was a certain charm about it that we realised later on. To arrive there at 1 O’Clock in the moring was a massive culture shock, and we couldn’t shake how unsafe it felt. We got off the bus, and realised it had taken us to the wrong bus station – we borrowed a Mexican guys phone to text our co-ordinator, emailed her once more, then hopped in a taxi to the right bus station. We got there just in time to see it close. Our project co-ordinator was nowhere in site. No one was anywhere in site. Just dark, run down streets, no friendly looking public places. So there we were, 2 idiots abroad walking around Mexico at 1am lost and confused and very hot. We sat down on the curb outside the bus station, one bag between us. Having been traveling for almost 24 hours, no showers. No method of contacting the co-ordinator. We were beaten.

We managed to hook onto a bit of wifi, and Skyped the co-ordinator. No answer. We Skyped all the numbers we had. No answers. We waited. As we grew more and more stressed, we kept trying the numbers in vein, until finally, one of them was picked up. The girl on the end of the phone told us she would try and contact the co-ordinator and then hung up. We heard nothing more for another 30 minutes or so, when finally, about 2.30am, a little car came round the corner, and a little Mexican lady hopped out. “Sorry, sorry, we thought you arrive tomorrow, sorry Ben and Tamara!!”.

I had so much we could have said to this woman, but we were so happy to see someone turn up, and know that we weren’t going to spend a night on the street with all of Tams stuff, that we just accepted her apology, let her completely off the hook and got into her car and she drove us to the shed we were to be staying in for the duration of the project, where yet another sleeply looking Mexican man was holding some bed sheets waiting for us.

This is the sleepy Mexican

Yes, shed! No locks, there was a gaping hole in the wall with wooden flaps attached to it that didn’t shut – I think this was intended to be the window. There were cobwebs in the shower, and we had an en-suite garage – full of dust, spiders and rubbish. Tell me why we’re doing this again? The next day we discovered our shed was part of a much bigger house – with rooms of varying comfort, ours being the shit hole, and the girl at the other end of the house living it up in air conditioned bliss. We found that there was anther much cleaner room in the centre of the house (literally in the centre – none of the walls in this room faced the outside – as such there were no windows – so essentially it was about 3 degrees hotter than any other room in the house – and of course, the fan didn’t work. We opted to move out of the shed, and into the oven. We stayed in that room for the rest of the time we spent in Merida. It got hotter and hotter. It also turned out to be the perfect breeding ground for mosquitos; I killed 12 in about 30 minutes. It was too hot to fight them. At night we just lay there, stuck to the beds with sweat – a steamed feast for the mosquito’s.

It turned out there were a few different projects that we could work at, we opted for the Kindergarten, which had an early finish meaning we could go hit a slightly smelly little bar with great character. Tam worked with the babies, I worked with the toddlers. It was definitely a Tam project, but I quite enjoyed it, I even got myself a little girlfriend (she was 3). Some of the days at the kindergarten were more productive than others, one day a lady came in and said to us in broken English – teach them colours in English. Then walked out. So we had a room with 10 3 year old Spanish speaking children, and had to try to teach them the colours in English. We soon realised, that the children didn’t actually know the colours in Spanish, let alone in English. That was an interesting day.

Tamara in her element!

Nap Time!

“Kick the baby!”

We had a blast exploring Merida. It wasn’t until we had really wondered around, that we got a real sense for how appearances can be so deceptive. It wasn’t nearly as abandoned as it had seemed at first. Every two or three houses, would be a house-store; they had the front door open and some magazine racks on the walls – little shops. Or garages, or bars. This seemingly abandoned place was absolutely buzzing with activity. Hundreds of little shops, cafes and bars. It was amazing, and the buildings are all painted with fading yet vibrant colours.

Our street

Fantastic colours on the houses around the city

I had to ditch my shoes to cross the street after a storm!

Tam enjoying the floods. Wicked sky!

The death-trap we rode to work each day

The central area in Merida (appropriately named Centro) was beautiful at night

Tam and another Volunteer hanging out by the pool in the volunteers house.

The local people were lovely too, not many spoke English but we got by. We realised just how safe it really was, truth is that had we slept on the streets on that first night we probably would have been fine. The circumstances had meant we misjudged it completely. We really grew to love Merida.

The other volunteers in Merida were awesome too, after our South African tour we weren’t sure what to expect, we met some cool people in South Africa but we met some real muppets as well, that just wasn’t the case this time around. We both loved everyone, and can’t wait to meet up again. Fortunately for us, the majority of the other volunteers were from the UK, so we’ll be able to hook up some reunions! It’s safe to say we hit up the town in Merida good and proper, and even managed to bag ourselves a Mexican guy named Georg, who showed us around and helped us order the Tequila!

George. Could he be any more Mexican?

He really was always holding some Tequila…

Nom Nom Nom!

Tam & Fayette getting ready for some good Mexican food!

Julianne trying to blend in

Partying in the back of the car.

“Being romantic”

All the volunteers in Merida put their prints on the wall!

I really didn’t think this through…

Tam getting her prints on the wall

Happy Birthday

More free tapas!

A developing bromance

Waiting.

The day we arranged to meet Ben and Amy, we set of early, now relying on the old fashioned “We’ll meet at this place at this time” method due to the lack of available working phones between our two parties, we selected a meeting place on Google Maps, and agreed to meet at 12.12pm. Me and Tamara left in plenty of time, giving ourselves almost twice as much time as we needed to get to our designated meeting place, and the drive went smoothly, sat nav lady informed us we were going to arrive almost an hour before we were due. Perfect.

The New York State Line

As with all of our RV stories, the success didn’t last. As we were hurtling down a freeway, Tam caught a glimpse of a sign that she thought might have been a low bridge, but couldn’t remember the number it said. The RV is 13 feet. As we continued cautiously, we saw the bridge looming ahead, it was tiny, no way we were getting under it. I started to have flashbacks of San Francisco, and reversing the wrong way down a 7-lane freeway to the sound of sirens and the horns of a hundred angry drivers. Luckily there was a slip road to the right, we took it and went up, straight over the road and then back down the slip road and back onto the motorway. Crisis averted.

Ten minutes later, we saw another sign… same again, no way were going to make it, so up we went on the slip road once more. As we neared the top of the slip road, we saw a sign across which said “No Trucks”, though technically we were not in a truck, the reason for the sign was now obvious, and we figured our luck wouldn’t last, so with only 17 miles to our meeting place left on the sat nav, we reluctantly turned right and into some suburbs, figuring we would just head in the general direction without joining the freeway. Sat Nav lady tried to understand what was going on, and eventually gave up – she stopped speaking to us once again, I tried to explain to her that she needed to navigate us to roads without low clearance but she couldn’t understand. We turned her off and carried on down the random road for 15 minutes or so, watching the clock tick away, watching our early arrival time slowly drop back to just “on time”. After a while, we turned the Sat Nav lady back on, to see if she could give us any idea of where we were or where we had to go… sure enough, she told us to turn right around and head back to the freeway. We continued ignoring her, driving random roads until we saw another “No Trucks” sign, this wasn’t the same road, this was a new sign. We avoided it as we had the others and took a new road, again we saw another sign. “No Trucks”. What the hell was going on? We had driven almost 10,000 miles across America, and not once had we seen a low bridge (except for that one time at San Francisco airport). Today was not our day. Sat Nav lady informed us we were no longer going to be on time, but were in fact going to be about 20 minutes late.

We eventually found our way to a road which got us moving, and we found ourselves about 3 miles from our meeting place, we were only 30 minutes late at this point and were a little less stressed, until right at that second, we saw another low bridge looming, and no exit to take, we swung left into a small alley way which lead into a building car park. I almost wanted to scream; in fact I think I may have done. The bridge said it had a clearance of 11.9 feet. We were 13 feet. There was a Mexican man in the car park, and we asked him if he knew of another way around the bridge.. he replied, just go under it you’ll be fine, shoot for the middle. This was probably not great advice, given he really didn’t have much to loose if he was wrong, but we took it, as we couldn’t face turning around again to try and find a new way around. We shot for the middle; I’m not sure what sort of face Tam was pulling at this point because my eyes were closed. I opened them about half way through, and looked up at the roof of the bridge, which looked far to close for comfort. A few seconds later and we were out on the other side, to freedom and only a couple of miles left on the Sat Nav, who at last was no longer trying to take us the 17 miles back to the spot where it all started to fall apart.

A few minutes later, we pulled around a corner and there were Ben & Amy patiently waiting and looking slightly relieved.

Shortly after picking Ben & Amy up, we realised that the RV at this point needed an oil change, we drove to the nearest garage and were greeted with yet another low clearance sign. The guys working the forecourt gave us directions to another garage six miles away that had enough headroom to get us in. An hour or so later, fresh oil in the engine, we were on our way to Atlantic City, New Jersey. The journey down was pretty smooth sailing once again, albeit with an obscene amount of toll roads, we must have crossed about 15 tolls on our way down, costing us upwards of about $40.00. Tolls ranging from $0.75 to $12.00. No matter though, we were all excited an in high spirits about the night ahead. As we crossed the New Jersey turnpike we blasted the Sopranos theme tune, and all rhythmically bobbed our heads to the beat. I’m not sure how many times we played that song on the way down but it was a lot. At some point the music switched from the Sopranos theme tune to the Inception soundtrack by Hans Zimmer, which resulted in a hilarious moment where a toll man was counting out 75 1 cent coins to the gradually building epic sounds of a dream within a dream. He was appropriately unimpressed.

The Atlantic City Sign

When we finally did make it to Atlantic city, we checked into our hotel and parked up the RV, the clerk mentioned that our room was tiny and we could have an upgrade to a larger room, the downside was that the room had no view. We opted to stick with our tiny room with a view. When we did get upstairs, we found the room was huge, and with a few peculiar features, such as a wall sized window facing into the bathroom and adjacent to the shower. Also the television was on a 360 degrees rotating disk in the centre of the room. The view over the ocean however, was spectacular.

That night we headed out, hoping for a Vegas style buffet with unlimited Champagne, no deals, apparently that’s something unique to Vegas, they have the buffets, but not the free drink. We eventually ended up having a beer and eating some greasy burgers from Johnny Rockets, while a lady squirted ketchup smiley faces into a side dish for us. Classy. None of us took advantage of the unlimited free French fries served on tiny plates.

We eventually made it to a Casino, and started hitting the 1 cent slot machines, very slowly and cautiously watching the cents disappear, and scoping the room for a waitress that might offer us free drinks. After it became apparent one wasn’t coming, we went on a scouting mission to bring one back to us. We did find one eventually, and she did give us free drinks, score. 4 margaritas. We gave her a 5 buck tip and then carried on gambling our cents. The drinks didn’t last and we needed more, and we wanted to ensure that our betting/drink ratio was as good as it could be, we had each put 5 bucks into the machines, so we figured the more drinks we could get out of her, the better the ratio would become. Bearing in mind we were also throwing in a 5 buck tip each time, which meant we had to be even more cautious with our betting if our ratio was to remain golden.

The night went on like this.. on and on and on and on. At some point we figured out we could get Champagne for free. I can’t even imagine how many cups of cheap Champagne I drank that night. As the night wore on, it became less about the ratio and more about trying every drink on the menu. We kept gambling, and we kept getting more and more drunk. We even had a couple of wins between us, 3 dollars here, 4 dollars, I even dropped 13 dollars out of one machine. I’m sure I put in more than that, but the wins helped the precious precious ratio.

I think secretly we had all been looking at our watches now and again but were all having fun so no one mentioned that it had got to about 4am. But at some point, we did all become mutually aware of the time around then. Then somehow, between chatting to a slot maintenance guy, ordering way to many drinks to finish, or Ben telling the barmaid not to be stupid when she refused his tip, it was 6.30am before we rolled back to our hotel. I vaguely remember us finding a games room on the top floor, and tripping Ben over as he ran through the door, then him pulling me off a motorbike racing game and dragging me across the floor, I also vaguely remember Skyping my cousin Stephen, and chucking them laptop in the bathroom whilst Amy was having a shower, and cracking Ben square in the nuts… it was not my finest hour. Sorry to both Amy and Ben for those particular incidents.

Amy winning big on the slot machines in Atlantic City

Showing Tam how much money I won (or was about to lose)

A happy gambling couple. 

Free drinks and Tam’s big win

RING RING, RING RING. RING RING, RING RING.
Me: “Sniff, cough, erm, hello?”
Hotel Clerk: “Hello sir, just needed to remind you that checkout is at 11.30am”
Me: “Cough, what time is it?”
Hotel Clerk: “It’s 11.30 Sir”
Ben: “Ok, we’re just getting ready”
Hotel Clerk: “I can give you till 12.30 if you like sir”
Ben: “That would be great, thanks”
Hotel Clerk: “There will be a charge of $150.00 added to your bill”
Ben: “……. we’ll be right down”
Hotel Clerk: “See you soon sir, have a nice day”

We got down in good time, and the hotel didn’t charge us, but clearly they know how to get 4 hungover people out of their room in a hurry. We all had breakfast and a walk around before getting back onto the road. I was hungover, so hungover, we all were. And somehow those tolls just weren’t as easy to stomach on the way home. Plus Ben and Amy really needed to be dropped of in New York on the way back, me and Tamara had planned to stay somewhere near the Cruise America office, the place which the RV was to be handed back the following day. We did manage to get Ben and Amy to a train station, but it wasn’t ideal. That night me and Tamara found no RV parks, we spent the night in a Home Depot car park, listening to the soothing sounds of trucks going by, and trying to clean the inside of the RV without any water. We hadn’t even had a shower, as we had to leave the hotel in such a hurry, and we had no water in the RV. It was a rough night to say the least. Next morning we dropped off the RV, said goodbye and hopped on a train to New York City, we met Ben & Amy and headed back to an apartment they had rented and had a shower. Finally.

We spent a few days with Ben & Amy before moving to a hostel, we had a great time sight seeing, we even got to run around Times Square drunk at one point, and we caught the most pointless, shit parade ever. Seriously, if you’re ever planning to see the St Patricks day parade in New York. Don’t bother.

Ben enjoying the New York Subway

Times Square Subway Station

Ben showing a lego Indiana Jones who’s boss!

Real Life Angry Birds

Prizes for guessing what happened next?

Enjoying the St Patrtick’s Day Parade

Drunk in Times Square

Tam in Times Square

Times Square at Night

Ben in Times Square

A beautiful shot of me and tam with NYC in the background taken from Brooklyn

Traffic crossing the Brooklyn Bridge

The four of us on the Brooklyn Bridge

Ben and Amy on the Brooklyn Bridge

Ben, Amy and Tam on the Brooklyn Bridge

Amy and Tam’s minds being blown

Still trying to grasp the awesomeness

2:2 

The five of us

Ben cheering for liberty!

A picture of majesty

“American Reunion”

How to ruin someone’s beer

Thinking about how to ruin someones beer

Me and Tam

Ben and Amy

Tam enjoying some Ethiopian Food

Good times in the Sopranos pub

Converse American Flag

Ben, Amy and Tam in Central Park

9/11 Memorial, Ground Zero, New York

9/11 Memorial, Ground Zero, New York

We said goodbye to Ben & Amy, and enjoyed a couple more days in New York just the two of us. We went to the 9/11 memorial and just took in the sights of the city a little more, before having one last coffee and a bagel in Central Park, and getting in a taxi back to JFK to fly back to England. Wrapping up our American Adventure and the first half of our round the world tour.

We were coming home.

We made it just in time, though after that days events we were fully expecting to find it had been clamped, or towed… it seems things were starting to go our way, when we got back to it, all was well.

We got on the road, this time heading for Niagara Falls, NY.

Something i haven’t mentioned before now, is that whilst most of our trip across America was planned and executed with exact precision and timing, we had sort of left things open from North Carolina onwards. After North Carolina, we were either to go south, down to Florida, then back up through Washington DC and into New York, or we were to go North, through DC and up to Niagara Falls and into Canada. As you’ve no doubt guessed we opted for the latter, the idea of being able to tick of another country on the Facebook “how many countries have you been to?” app being all to tempting. I wouldn’t say this decision was a mistake, but I’ve no doubt in my mind that it wouldn’t have been nearly as testing had we gone south. In hindsight, rather than just being excited about the prospect of visiting another country, maybe we should have done some actual “research” into where we were going and what it was like in the middle of winter… to quote myself from a previous blog post.. 2idiotsabroad.com!

Anyway, we were going North, through Pennsylvania and into the State of New York, excited to visit the famous falls!

Pennsylvania State Sign

We arrived in Niagara at about 10pm that night, and decided to pull into an RV park about 10 miles from the falls, the Snow was heavy and thick underfoot – and there was no fresh water – all frozen up. We got into bed and fell asleep to the soothing sounds of Jack Bauer hunting down terrorists.

Next morning, we woke to a little less snow, but a miserable day, rainy and grey. We set off early and got to the falls in no time at all. We drove up over the bridge and into a barren car park. We were early, but not that early.. this was our first clue that going North might not have been our best corse of action. We drove passed a sign that said parking: $20.00.. (which made me sad ) and then we drove passed the empty parking attendants booth (which made me happy ) – boom free parking!

We hopped out and walked over to the cafe, thinking we would grab a coffee to keep us warm while we walked around in the freezing cold and rain. Closed. Never mind, lets go over to the falls – which we could hear all around us. We followed the path which led to the edge, but before we could get close to the edge.. another sign. Closed. We walked over to the other side. Closed. Closed. Closed! Ok, so i’m painting a pretty drab picture, the truth is we were able to see Niagara Falls, but it was from a distance, and the walkways and paths which lead over them were closed. The weather made visibility difficult, and the freezing cold conditions meant our interest in sticking around was limited. I’m glad we went, but it’s one of those times where you have to say to yourself we’ll just have to come back. Can’t win em’ all.

Sign for Niagara Falls

The top of the falls

Ben with Niagara falls in the background

Tam and some trees and a little bit of Niagara (my bad)

We left the falls laughing, it was hard not to see the funny side of driving 500 miles to see something that’s basically closed, and followed the road signs for “Canada”. Sat Nav lady must have been trying to get back into my good books because she literally pulled the maps for Canada out of her.. USB Port? We didn’t download or pay for maps of Canada, yet somehow she had them. We drove in, paid the toll and crossed the bridge into Canada. We pulled over at customs where a rather suspicious and incompetent (not a good combination) security officer questioned us. After tearing random items which had been stapled into my passport by American government officials and telling me that he suspected i might have been hiding out in the USA since 2005, he got into the RV and search it. Luckily, Tam had finished up all the crack the night before, so we had nothing to hide. He then nonchalantly strolled out of the RV and back inside his office. 10 minutes later, a new security guy came out, thanked us, handed me back the pieces the first guy had torn out of my passport and sent us on our way. Trying to save face much? Jackass.

The little town of Niagara Falls on the Canadian side, was touristy as hell, alot like Pigeons Forge (mentioned in an earlier post), just without the good weather. Also alot of it was closed, and it was very expensive. We wondered around a little, but had already had our fair share of over the top tourist novelties, so we had a coffee and a bite to eat and had a quick look around before heading off.

Giant novelty Heshey’s Choclate Bar

The perfect street to park the RV

We set off for our next stop, an RV park just outside of Toronto, Canada. We made pretty good time, arriving that afternoon. We ate some more of the Pizza we bought the week before, and had ourselves another cozy evening with Mr Bauer.

We awoke to a beautiful, crisp, snowy winter morning.

Candadian RV Park in the Winter (Via Instagram)

On the advice of a very helpful lady at the RV park, we drove to the outskirts of Toronto, CA and parked up at a shopping mall, then we got the Train in. We had a lovely day walking around the city. Neither of us found it to be an amazing place, but it was nice and we got some awesome sushi.

Tam in Toronto

Cool architecture along the Toronto boardwalk

Tam enjoying Sushi (Finally!)

After leaving Toronto, we found another RV park and set up camp for the night, before heading off early the next day to visit Montreal, which is much much much further north than Toronto. And much much much more covered in snow to boot. We didn’t stay long, instead we ran for the border. Tired of the cold, tired of the snow, tired of everything being closed!

We got to the border and drove a couple more hours into the state of Vermont, where we found a pretty snow covered campsite to spend the night. Once again, we woke up to a beautiful morning.

Vermont Campsite in the Snow

Wondering through a forest in Vermont

We stayed at this campsite for a few days, cosy and warm in the RV, and enjoying a few days without moving anywhere. When we finally did decide to get on the road again, it was to a place that Tamara has dreamed of since she was born. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her more excited than she was on the way to this place. Need a clue? She was like a kid in an Ice Cream store.

Figured it out yet? Where’s Tam?

Bingo, the Ben and Jerry’s factory!

The Ben and Jerry’s Bus

After leaving Vermont and the Ben and Jerry’s factory, it was time to visit Boston, and a place where everybody knows your name.

“Where everybody knows your name“

Tam outside Cheers in Boston

The view from the opening credits of Cheers!

Hangin’ out with Fraiser and Norm

Take a seat at the bar

Cheers!

The drive was about 350 miles from Sandy and Carols place, snaking us through the states of Virginia and Maryland.

We made good time and the drive was basically smooth sailing all the way there, we even managed to avoid getting pulled over this time. The driving success took something of a steep downturn shortly after we saw this sign…

Who’d have thought driving through the Capital city of the USA in an RV was a bad idea.. to this moment I still can’t fathom why neither me nor Tam had had the foresight to go to an RV park first, and get the train into Washington. Still, 2idiotsabroad.com.

Once we finally did fight our way through the concrete jungle (no thanks to the Sat Nav lady who quite frankly was being a complete bitch) we found ourselves on what we figured was the main road, and almost immediately found parking (we cheered a little), it was just about big enough to cram the RV in.

The J Edgar Hoover FBI Building

The Newseum, Which displays the front page for every state newspaper in the USA

Tam infront of The Needle Washington Monument

US Flags around The Needle Washington Monument

US Flags around The Needle Washington Monument

Walking up to the Lincoln Memorial

Ahh wait, got the right camera setting that time!

Ben in front of the Lincoln Memorial, Washington DC

The two of us with the Washington Monument in the background

The Lincoln Memorial at Night

Unfortunately the night caught up with us, and having no idea where we had left the RV at this point, and no plans for where we were going to park up for the night, we decided to go and figure that out and come back to Washington the next day. We eventually found the RV, with some difficulty given that about 5 minutes after we took this picture it was pitch black. Once back in our home from home, we started trying to look up “RV Parks” in the Sat Nav’s search facility. As I mentioned earlier, the Sat Nav lady was being a complete bitch about things, and she apparently was having her fun once more, handing us phone numbers to inner city kids art programs, and camps for the visually impaired, rather than “RV Campsites” which we had clearly typed in. Unfortunately, the only way to find out whether the Sat Nav had given us a useful number was to call it and see. The other problem we faced, was that even when we did get through to a legitimate campsite, it was usually a disgruntled american on the other end of the phone informing us that we had called him late on a Sunday night and his campsite was closed for the winter. One of them actually tried to impersonate a british accent whilst he told us we had no chance of finding a place to camp.

Eventually we did find a place, it was grossly expensive and 25 miles back out of Washington. After some grumbling we decided we had no choice, and headed for it.

The next day, we headed back into Washington, feeling confident that we now knew our way around a little better than the day before, and we had cleverly bookmarked the location of our free parking from the day before.. yep.. we were feeling good.  It didn’t last.

We got through the concrete Jungle once again and started driving through the suburbs, happily following Sat Nav lady (whom I had made up with), until we saw those dreaded police sirens, and saw a policeman pointing and waving wildly in the opposite direction to where Sat Nav lady was telling us to go.. we were forced to turn around, with no information as to why we had been made to do so.. we hit a cross roads, and took a left thinking it would bring us back around to… BAM, another policeman, “TURN AROUND SIR, GO THAT WAY”.. swinging the RV back around diagonally across the cross street not even sure which lights were red or which were green anymore, horns blaring, everyone looking over at the two fools who had tried to drive and RV into Washington DC. We pulled up further down the road and found another policeman, this time an actual civil human being, capable of 2 way communication, he told us that trucks, vans and RVs (although i think it’s the first time anyone had actually seen an RV in Washington) were not allowed to drive on certain roads going into the centre on weekdays, “for security”. This meant another hour detour around the city to get to our little free parking spot. Several more wrong turns and we eventually did find it again, with the relationship with the Sat Nav once again under considerable strain. It was at this point we found out that the parking was for Government vehicles only during the weekdays.. fan bloody tastic. Now we had no where to park, no idea where to go next, and half the roads which surrounded us had police which screamed at us if we tried to drive on them. I won’t keep going on, needless to say it was 3pm before we finally did find somewhere to park, and we were only allowed 2 hours, because apparently between the hours of 5pm and 6pm you will be towed for parking.. even more unquestionable logic for us to deal with… We decided to try and make the most of it, and ran to the Smithsonian Museum, which by sheer coincidence was only a couple of blocks from where we had parked.

Tam in the Smithsonian

Ben looking for the Bear

I’m pretty sure this is the main room from “A Night at the Museum”.

Washington DC was fantastic, a beautiful clean city, lots of amazing things to do and see. A place I would really love to spend a week getting lost. My only piece of advice. Leave the RV at home.

This place is wacky to say the least, touristy as hell, and sat right at the foot of the Smokey Mountains which border North Carolina and Tennessee. Its like a Las Vegas for families with kids, – lots of wax works, barn dance dinner shows, magicians and exhibits – the perfect place to take a primary school teacher who hasn’t grown up.

I warned her this is where she would stay if she stepped out of line…

See anything wrong with this picture?

Yep, Giant model of the Titanic.

After we finished taking pictures ourselves in front of obscure buildings and models, we booked ourselves onto a Quad-Biking tour through the Smokey Mountains. We had such a fantastic time Quad-Biking in through the sand dunes in the Namib Desert in Namibia that we couldn’t resist. We managed to get on the last timeslot, and luckily it was just the two of us with our guide, who took us on an awesome 2 and a half hour ride through the Mountains. 

That night we got $40.00 of pizza and wings, that pizza stayed in our fridge for the majority of the rest of the RV trip… it made it into Canada and back. 

The next morning we hauled our butts out of bed early, planning to get a head start, as we had planned to revisit the Camp where we both first met back in summer 2007. Blue Star camps is a Jewish kids summer camp nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina, and for those of you that don’t already know, me and Tam were both camp councillors there for that summer. 

STATE LINE!

Where Ben had to work maintenance…

Tam outside the Teen Villiage

Tam outside her old cabin

Ben outside his old cabin.

Hawks Nest

After our nostalgic visit to our old camp, we got on our way, this time to meet the leader of Camp Dogwood – the camp that I was originally supposed to work at before I moved to Blue Star.. interesting story, but not really blog friendly.

Sandy, the director of Camp Dogwood, was gracious enough along with her friend Carol to put both me and Tamara up for a few days in a beautiful house complete with an indoor swimming pool. Tam was thrilled.. they also had two great dogs, one in particular was a complete nutter.. his name is Mo.

MO!

Finally.. a good nights sleep!

We got on our way, plugged our required destination into the satnav, ‘You have 349 miles to Memphis Tennessee’. We’re off to Graceland, to see the king of rock and roll. We must have gotten about 40 miles in, driving through the state of Mississippi – when we saw the blue lights blaring in the wing mirror, still looking rather disheveled, and probably over the limit thanks to the weekend of binge drinking in New Orleans we sheepishly pulled over to the side of the road. A slightly overweight cop un-gracefully exited the beast of a cop car behind us, and sauntered on over to the RV, making me exit first to go and wait at the back of the RV, while he questioned Tamara separately at the front. Giving me just enough time to snap a picture of his car while he wasn’t looking.. just in case .

Apparently in the 25 minutes he had been following us, I had strayed across the central line.. of course that was the reason, nothing to do with the California license plates or scary scary kids peaking out of the RV window then? I think he was just bored and couldn’t resist pulling us over.. we are kind of asking for it. A few hours later, we hit the Tennessee state line. Just another 50 or so miles until we arrived in Memphis, however – not long after we passed the state line, we saw a signpost for – the birthplace of Elvis – we swung an impromptu right off the freeway (much to the dismay of other road users) and followed the signs.

After our brief visit to Elvis’s birthplace, we got back on the road – this time heading for Graceland in Memphis, the home of the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

We really enjoyed Graceland, both of us expecting it to be a bit tacky and distasteful, but were both really surprised at how tastefully presented everything was, and actually how emotional the whole thing was. Highly recommended.

We spent about 4 hours at Graceland, so by the time we were out it was about 4pm, we decided to push on through to Nashville, TN where we were hooking up with friends – we plugged it into the Sat Nav who helpfully informed us that we had another 350 miles to go, thanks for that Sat Nav lady. We got on our way, within seconds of leaving the car park it begain to rain, hard. We spoke to Mikee, one of the guys we were meeting in Nashville, who informed us it was clear skies where he was, which gave enough reassurance that it would be worth continuing, thinking that we would be out of the rain any minute. How wrong we were. That was by far, the worst drive of the entire trip. We did eventually make it to Nashville, at about 9.30pm – and were greeted by our three friends – Mikee, Jay and Kyle who had fully prepped for our arrival in the form of vast quantities of Miller Lights and pizza – it was a good indication for the week ahead – we definitely weren’t going to go hungry or thirsty in Nashville.

Mikee!

Mikee and his wonderful wife Char, were kind enough to have us stay at their house for the majority of our time in Nashville, the best part of a week – can’t thank these guys enough for all they did for us. Made us feel so welcome and drove us around to places – Love you both and can’t wait to return the favor when you get over to England!

Mikee & Jay soundcheck at Kyle’s studio

Mikee, Jay and Sven

Kyle and Mikee watching a potential new TRC Artist

Tam in front of Broadway, Nashville

Ben after another night with Kyle, Jay, Mike and too many Millar Lights.

Mikee playing with Kassie Jordan in Nashville

Mikee playing with Kassie Jordan in Nashville

Mikee and Kassie at her album launch party

To thank Char and Mikee for their amazing hospitality, on our last night we cooked them up a Great British Roast – one that would make your mother proud! It was awesome, not to blow our own trumpets here but seriously, me and Tam cook a mean British Roast Dinner.

Mikee doing the honors

While at Mikees, we had the opportunity to watch the television for the first time since we got to the States.. to put it bluntly, they advertise food.. so much food and all of the time. Me and Tam by the time we left Mikee’s, had a list of all the terrible, heart attack on a plate type foods we wanted to try before we left the USA, a task that Mikee supported – at the top of the list was the Fritto Burrito.. and ton of cheese, beef, tomatoes, cheese, cheese, bread, cheese and a packet of Frittos (like Cheetoes) all smashed together into one tasty sloppy burrito. Well, we got one. Delicious.

We had an awesome time in Nashville, in particular down to Mikee and Char, Kyle and Sabrina and Jay and Britteny, who all looked after us, showed us around, had us to stay, bought us dinner – made us feel so very welcome. Thank you!

To end the post, there’s one final thing i forgot to mention, and this was probably the best thing about Nashville..

This is Philo.

Mikee’s & Char’s dog and i think, Tamara’s soul mate, i’m still not 100% sure she doesn’t have him stuffed in her backpack.

We headed out and racked up a huge bar bill, got completely smashed and watched the Superbowl… sorry, i forgot to mention it was Superbowl Sunday… this was to be the start of an eating and drinking binge that would get way out of control…

The following day we drove the 200 miles to Houston, Texas. Katy’s current city of residence, that night we headed out for an obscene amount of Mexican food. The next day we were sadly saying goodbye to Col, who was due to fly out of Houston airport that afternoon, however, no trip to Texas would be complete without firing some guns, so that’s exactly what we did.

Ben, pretending to be Jack Bauer.

I keep telling Tam that she won’t get this through US customs.

After we had finished shooting our guns, and it had been established that Col was by far the best shooter between the four of us (i think it’s a height thing) we drove him to the airport and said our tearful goodbyes. That night we headed out for an obscene amount of Mexican food, again. I can’t remember exactly how many days we camped out at Katy’s house, but there were definitely a few days where we did nothing but eat copious amounts of food… and drink wine.

At some point we took a break from eating to visit the Houston space centre, you know – Houston, we have a problem….. that place! It was exciting, but if I’m completely honest, it was a bit naff.

This is where they keep a big rocket, can’t remember the name though…

Ben inside Mission Control 

Tam, Buzz, Neil and that other space bloke.

MDF Space Shuttle, no expense spared at NASA

Tam finally found a hairdryer.

We decided to leave Houston a couple of days early, and take a drive to New Orleans, Louisiana, Katy and her friend Dave also decided to join us, this was another one of those 500 mile drives, the main problem with this one being that while I drove, Katy, Tam and Dave proceeded to get hammered in the back of the RV.. this was especially entertaining when the police pulled us over and asked to look in the back.. nervous as I was, it was funny watching the three of them frantically trying to hide the empty beer bottles. We arrived in New Orleans at about 10pm, I downed some Vodka to catch up with the party, and we headed straight out into absolute Chaos. Streets absolutely filled with drunken people from wall to wall, seedy strip clubs, and balconies filled with people above the street tossing beads down to any woman willing to lift up her top.

I have no idea if this was before or after we went out..

This guy assured us he was famous, he even had his Wikipedia page open on his phone to prove it. We mocked him. 

Novelty drinks a plenty!

A dignified moment, it passed.

Best friends forever

This was a hangover cure, Louisiana food, Gumbo, Ribs, Breaded Catfish… it was heavy.

Cheers.