Diego and Jose's tequila tour!

Photos: Sequoia NP

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 12:17:00 GMT

Photos: Thanksgiving

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 1 Dec 2009 08:55:00 GMT

Photos: San Juan del Sur

jarrodkee43 — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 22:23:00 GMT

Photos: Little Corn Island

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 19:49:00 GMT

Photos: Hurricane Ida (Little Corn Island)

jarrodkee43 — Wed, 4 Nov 2009 22:11:00 GMT

Photos: Ometepe

jarrodkee43 — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 22:29:00 GMT

Photos: Honduras

jarrodkee43 — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 10:21:00 GMT

Photos: Granada, Leon, Managua

jarrodkee43 — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 13:42:00 GMT

Photos: El Salvador

jarrodkee43 — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 09:57:00 GMT

Photos: Semuc, Finca Tatin, Livingston

jarrodkee43 — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 08:27:00 GMT

Tubing, Rum and Wrestling

jarrodkee43 — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 03:07:00 GMT

With the jungle trek now behind them, Jose and Diego were still more than willing to subject their bodies to some more insect biting punishment with a visit to Semuc Champey. Although safely reporting that there were no tarantulas hiding under the dunny seat in Semuc, there was another deadly surprise lurking in the darkness, RUM. The deadliest and most venomous of all the creatures in Guatemala, it sat quietly poised to damage the liver of any unsuspecting traveller game enough to sip on its clear and potent nectar.

Nestled in a valley in central Guatemala, Semuc offers the more adventurous traveller adrenalin rushing activities that will keep them buzzing. The Coalition force of Diego, Jose, Simon, Daniel and Laura were the selected squad to take on the challenges of Semuc Champey. Events included, adventure walking, extreme swimming, extreme rope swinging, extreme rope climbing, extreme tubing, extreme bridge jumping, and finally extreme rum drinking. The latter proved most deadly for Diego.

The day started without a glitch with a half hour walk to the top of the ridge to look down upon a series of beautiful blue and green swimming holes. Each swimming hole was fed by a trickle of diverted mountain water, while the bulk of the water powered through the cave system under the swimming holes. The neighbouring mountains provided an excellent vista of the ponds and some fantastic photo`s were taken from this vantage. While the descent from the mirador was easy enough, the first real excitement of the day came when swimming in the tranquil (and totally natural) swimming pools. At the end of each beautiful pool we had to jump a few metres down to the next until we finally arrived at 10 metre waterfall.

Our guide tied a knotted rope around a large rock and lowered himself using the knots down the waterfall, utilising the natural footholes in the rockface for balance. While he skirted down the waterfall at a brisk pace, the rest of the group stuggled with the exercise. One at a time we lowered ourselves down the rope until we reached a safe spot in the cave underneath where thousands of litres of water emerged from the cave and roared past us. Diego, Jose and Daniel were the first safely into the cave, along with a couple of Polish backpackers who made the guided trip with us. While we waited for the rest of the group to join us we contemplated what we were supposed to do next. It was far too dangerous to jump into the moving water. Even if we had lifejackets, which we didn't, we had our doubts about ever being seen alive again. Caroline, a petite little Polish chick, was next to lower herself down the rope and under the waterfall. She appeared through the spray of water less than elegantly as she emerged topless from the force of the water pulling down her bikini top, to the joys of Daniel. "Check that out!" was the cry reverberating around the cave. Unfortunately, Simon missed out.

With everybody safely standing in the cave our guide finally decided that the only safe way out was to climb the rope back up the waterfall. Easy enough if you were an SAS trooper or a commando, but for the girls it was near impossible. Slowly, one by one, we climbed the rope out of the cave. Caroline had several attempts but with the water flowing vigourously over the ledge it made each step a mission. With only Caroline, Simon and Dave left to climb the rope, we gave Caroline all the encouragement the group could muster while the other two waited their turn down below. Just as Caroline crested the falls, her bikini gave up and proudly displayed it contents for all to see. Again, Simon missed out.

The walk back is mostly consumed by descriptions given to Simon of all he missed out on... and then it is time to embark on a tubing experience before sitting down to lunch. The torrent of water that spewed forth from the lower caves is now put to good use propelling us down the river. A meer 15 minutes later the sound of a waterfall begins to get closer and we hear the guide frantically screaming for us to paddle to the side to get out. A little more warning would have been nice but luckily the only casualty is a lost thong (or flip-flip for those non-Aussies).

One last pleasure of the tour awaited in the form of a 10-metre bridge jump into the icy waters we had just extracted ourselves from. Here Dan, the ex-trampolinist, showed us his skills with his twists and turns... who knew you had so much time on the way down? The rest of us are satisfied with an arm waving descent and less than delicate entry!

With the excitement of the day seemingly over we head back to the hostel for lunch. What else could better help with digestion than a little sip of rum? (It was going to be a beer, but Laura insisted on rum... and it was cheaper for a bottle... how were we to know?) So at 2pm the rum began to flow and by midnight we had made it onto our fifth bottle. Apart from Simon, Dan, Laura, Jose and Diego, we had been joined by the three Poles and Roberto - who was a late addition from Cincinatti. After some very in-depth discussion regarding the US approach to religion and gun-control (two subjects that could only go that well together in reference to the States), Dan decides it is time to teach Diego some manners. Apart from being an ex-trampolinist Dan also had the pleasure of working in one of the roughest pubs in Northern Sydney. And the encounter this night would bring back recollections of a fight with an angry dyke all those years ago. Needless to say, Diego will think twice about messing with a man's cards in future... and Dan will think twice about mixing bodily fluids with such a filthy example of humankind. RESULTS: Dan 1. Diego 1. Entertainment value: 423. Bleary (and bloody eyed) we all feel it is time to head to bed for the early start in the morning.

With hangover in tow, Simon, Diego and Jose rouse themselves for the journey to Rio Dulce - a 5 hour winding drive through the mountains to the Eastern coast. Unfortunately, there is little room left in the cabin of the vehicle so Diego and Jose are left in the tray on the back. This certainly makes the trip a memorable one, and once the inch-thick layer of dust is removed and the cries of "Gringo, gringo" have faded into the background, the memories of a crazy weekend in Semuc Champey will go down as one of the best.

Photos: Lake Atitlan

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 16:08:00 GMT

Photos: Jungle trek

jarrodkee43 — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 22:24:00 GMT

Jungle trekking. Anyone mention mud?

jarrodkee43 — Thu, 8 Oct 2009 03:12:00 GMT

After tossing up where to go next Diego and Jose decide to tackle some new frontiers and head into Guatemala. What ensues is a very hairy boat ride up the river to cross into Guatemala, followed by a 3 hour bus ride to Flores/Santa Elena. Guatemalan immigration was not what was expected. Within 5 minutes the busload of passengers was processed and the immigration officials were laughing and joking with us. The main piece of advice was that we needed to learn how to "make love Spanish-style" so we can get a Guatemalan wife and learn the language. We thank them for the advice but think we'll settle for taking some lessons in San Pedro!

Having endured two lengthy bus rides in the previous two days the decision is made to hang out in El Remate for a day, then go to Tikal before venturing into Belize... so we expected to stay in the area for two days at the most.

True to form, our plans remained fluid and sure enough, 6 days later, we were still in El Remate. But did we have some stories to tell.

For about $US60 our crazy guide Veronico led Diego, Jose, Micheal (our Belgian connection) and Laura (our Italian jewellery maker) into the wilderness for 5 days/4 nights. We endured river crossings, hair raising rides in the back of crowded utes (with chickens as extra passengers) and collectivo journeys that certainly pushed the 1 tonne limits of the vehicles we travelled in... but we would look back on the experience with the fondest of memories!

We started out at 6am and journeyed towards Sayaxche rather bleary eyed. Four hours later, and after a quick bite, we piled into the back of a truck for the journey towards Ceibal. Unfortunately, the truck stopped short of our destination by about 6 kilometres, so we had a rather warm walk down the track to reach the ruins. But wasn't it worth it!

Few of the ruins here have been restored, but in parts you can still see the original structures as they have stood for hundreds of years. It's quite amazing to see what appears to be a jungle covered mound only to discover that it is the base of a large temple or residential complex that is still visible on the other side. It gives a new appreciation for the work involved in restoring some of the other sights visited on the trip so far.

But, perhaps the most rewarding part of the trip turns out to be staying in the workers quarters with the guys that are responsible for managing the site. After a brisk shower provided by a bucket of water, the skies decide to aid the task of washing by opening up for us. While the rain was nice, it also attracted hundreds of flying termites to any light in the area, so eating with a headlamp shining in your food brings with it the promise of extra protein. The solution was to grab the food and quickly head into the hut to eat...

...while innocently chowing down we spot movement out of the corner of our eyes... just on the edge of the illumination provided by the torches... and what should it be but the biggest tarantula ever seen. This thing is so big that you can see the water vibrating as it takes a step. Okay, maybe it isn't quite that big, but it would easily cover the palm of your hand with your fingers outstretched. It is just what we need to make us feel comfortable in our beds that night! (How many of these things have scrambled past just outside of the light????)

After the standard coffee and cigarette breakfast (thanks Laura) we head back out along the road for the trek back to Sayaxche so we can make our way towards the next site, Dos Pilas. The question now has to be asked. How many people can you fit into a minibus that has a normal carrying capacity of 15? That's correct, 25. I begin to think that these guys should be going for a Guiness world record or something....

The rain of the previous night has fallen here as well which makes the 45 minute walk in to camp an interesting one to say the least. But after a day of sweating it out the fresh water springs that greet us at Dos Pilas are a godsend. Combine that with the amazing stelae and you have a picture perfect site. Again, we sleep in the workers quarters but this time we get individual cabins that appear to offer some degree of privacy... until you wonder what that noise is that you can hear and you realise it is the person two cabins away from you breathing!

A night walk into the ruins offered a different view of the site... but just a heads up for anyone considering this... be aware that at night one part of jungle looks much like another. Finally, Laura's GPS kicked in and we made our way back to camp after making a few laps around the same track!

The morning brought reminders for the workers that they only had 5 days left until they went back to see their wives, and it also offered us the opportunity to check out some cave systems in the area. The first of the caves required an Indiana Jones-style descent down a vine to get to the entrance. Inside you could view bats and blind cat fish, as well as the albino crabs that inhabit the cave.

The next cave was much bigger, several hundred metres long, and had remnants of earlier occupation such as clay pots and other artefacts. While the stalactites and stalagmites here lacked the colours of other cave systems in the world they were still very impressive and diverse.

With a bonfire organised for the evening, the afternoon saw another visit to the springs before a trek into town for a quiet beer. Did I say a quiet beer? We very quickly became the entertainment for the local village children as they played "watch out for the gringo" and would see how close they could get before their nerves gave out and they had to run away. We had a lot of fun watching them scramble away to apparent safety before slowly sneaking their way back again. With a few beers under our belts it was time to head back to camp to be greeted by a delicious dinner prepared from the "marrow" of a palm tree. Those guys sure knew how to cook!

Our final full day at Dos Pilas (Happy birthday Andrea) had us take a leisurely stroll to an Arroyo with more impressive stelae. On arrival, as we relaxed in the hammocks, we were startled by a rather large sound of something hitting the ground. On investigation it turned out to be a head-sized avocado that had fallen from a nearby tree. This thing was as tasty as it was large, and a few of them went nicely with lunch later that day.

Perhaps the highlight of the trip occured on arrival back at camp when we found that the next crew of workers had arrived to take over the management duties. With so many people in camp it was only natural that we organised a football match. Why was this so special? The only place grand enough for such an occasion had to be the grand plaza of the Mayan ruins. While it would be a little much to compare our experience with those of the original ball courts at the site, the tree roots and rocks that littered the field made for an interesting game, especially given that a number of players went barefoot instead of playing in their hiking boots. Micheal´s skills with the ball and Veronico´s unique tackling technique helped the visitors off to a great start. Blood aside, the locals gained the upper hand after being down 3-1 and in fading light the game was abandoned with many laughs (and limps!). (The International´s put the loss down to the coach not coming through on the major strategy agreed upon before the match.)

The 4am start in the morning was only made better by the fact that the rain of the previous night had ceased and the track was a little less muddy than on the way in. By midday we were back at El Remate, and after a great meal provided by Veronico and his family, we all headed back to the hostel (Sak Luk) and to showers and/or bed.

While the sights we saw on the trek were amazing, the most memorable part of the journey was certainly the people we encountered along the way. Money can't put a price on that experience!

Photos: Palenque

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 6 Oct 2009 08:21:00 GMT

Photos: Antigua

jarrodkee43 — Mon, 5 Oct 2009 15:59:00 GMT

Photos: Chiapas

jarrodkee43 — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 22:12:00 GMT

Chiapas or Israel?

jarrodkee43 — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:33:00 GMT

How could any place on Earth match the magic of Mazunte? It's a difficult question to answer but it was time for Diego and Jose to leave Mazunte and find out.....

San Cristobal was the next destination on the tequila tour. After trying to leave Muzunte the day before, we finally got to Pochutla thanks to the lift given to us from Ric and Encarni. We had all intentions on leaving the day earlier, and having packed our bags and positioning them in front of Ric's fourwheel drive we were fully committed to go. Ric and Encarni were happy to give us the lift but the thought of staying had crossed our minds a numerous times while having the fairwell drinks. Ric was trying to plant seeds of doubt in our minds but it was definately time to go. For some reason, possibly the combination of the alignment of the moon and stars and the animations playing at Eric's bar we were FORCED to stay due to the safe refusing to open and give up our passports. Oh well, another day in paradise!

Both of us were excited at the propect of some action filled days leading up to and including Mexican Independence day. But first, the 12 hour overnight bus trip beckoned. For Diego the trip was less than enjoyable after an unfortunate coin toss put him up the back of the bus next to the smelly toilets and a rather large cowboy where the temperature was akin to what you may find in a sauna. Jose, however, scored seat number 2, in front of the air-con and next to a crazy German girl who entertained us with her complete screw-ups over the next 4 days. Nadin was certainly something special... and hopefully at the time of writing she manged to find her boyfriend in Canada. If only the coin toss was a tail.....

Nadin had told us she was in San Cristobal to meet up with her German friends Felix and Paul. Felix and Paul had been in San Cristobal for two weeks due to a passport mix up in a surf shop in Porto Escondido. A few events unfolded over the next few days, including Mexican Independence day, Paul's birthday and Felix's passport being returned by post. So everyone was pumped for party! What could possibliy go wrong??

Perhaps this blog entry might be more entertaining if we wrote about Nadin completey stuffing up absolutely everthing she attempted!! But first let us give you some background knowledge of the hostel we stayed in.

Planet Hostel could have easily being mistaken for "Little Tel Aviv" in San Cristobal. Let's let the maths do the explaining here...

Hostel population: 35

Israeli: 27, German: 3, Aussie: 2, Slovak: 2, and British: 1.

Now for a little insight to Nadin's run of unfortunate events...

1. Nadin decides to visit Mexico to see Paul and Felix.

2. She over sleeps on a bus and misses her stop in Porto Escondido to end up three hours away in Zipolite.

3. Reconsiders her three week stay in Mexico to visit Canada to see her boyfriend.

4. Books two conflicting flights

5. Due to fly out of Mexico City on the 28th of Sept but doesn't return to Mexico from Canada until the 8th of Oct.

6. Booking engine wouldn't allow a third conflicting flight to fix the mistake.

7. Solution: spends three days trying to book another flight through another company on an overdrawn credit card.

8. Doesn't have a U.S wavier visa for her stop over on the way to Canada.

9. Last minute hiccup: flight leaving Toluca not Mexico City (about 1 hour from Mecio City).

San Cristobal is pretty much the epicenter of Chiapas. The local markets are certainly lively, which we found out while shopping for food with Luis for the hostel bbq to celebrate Independence day (Not a place for vegetarians). About 5kgs of meat for 10 people seemed to do the trick for the party. Can´t remember the name of the local brew but that too packed a punch that night. Diego was in charge of chopping vegetables and salad while Felix, Paul and myself got the grill going. Luis missed some of the fun as he had a game of basketball to play. Luis is about 5 foot 3 and plays centre for his local team... would be great to play b´ball in mexico with some gringo height.

With the reggaeton music blasting away and Luis and his mates carving up the dance floor, Jose was tasked with grilling the horse flesh so the Independence day party could get into full swing. Probably the highlight of the night was Paul's birthday cake and birthday song. Nadine and Felix couldn´t remember the words to happy birthday in German so we sang "Happy birthday" in English twice. The birthday cake and candle was certainly unique, and not one for the kiddies. A sight to be seen to believed.

So with hangovers in tow, the last day in San Cristobel was spent replacing Diego's camera. Not an enjoyable experience (reminders of San Diego and an iPod come to the fore). We had the pleasure of waiting for a Central American 30 minutes (1 and a half hours) while some asshole decides to test all the stereos at full volume. Will we learn from our experiences? No. But we did quit drinking for almost 24 hours.

Palenque calls.

Photos: Oaxaca Coast

jarrodkee43 — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 21:58:00 GMT

Oaxaca, Mazunte and will we ever leave Rinconcito?

jarrodkee43 — Wed, 9 Sep 2009 04:05:00 GMT

After a month of no updates I'm sorry to say we will disappoint the fans by reporting that we are not dead, just lazy! So if we can cast our weary brains back we'll try and recover some of our experiences over the last month...

Where better to start than Oaxaca. After arriving at 1am and getting dropped off at a hostel that no longer existed, we took another hour to track down a place that would take us in. So after a little shut eye we ventured out for our first look at Oaxaca, but we were also desperate for food to silence the anger from our stomach's. This must have been fairly clear to the street vendor that sat us down and plied us with tacos. I chose not to look too closely at mine, but I got a little nervous as I saw Jarrod picking small pinkish coloured bits out of his. Meal finished, we filed the name of the meat away in our grey matter to find out what it actually was later.

LATER: We had eaten the Mexican equivalent of a hotdog, only the meat wasn't so minced that it was unidentifiable. The smell (rather distinctive) came from the intestinal juices that came free with the meat. LESSON: If you don't know what it is, don't bloody eat it!

It should come as no surprise that next on the agenda was a drink. And so began our two days in Oaxaca at a bar named Tabbalah. This is a very interesting place run by a guy that has the most impressive arm tattoo ever seen. Unfortunately, our alcoholic stupor resulted in us having a distinct lack of photos from these days. But, the bar tender (named David, quite easy to remember) made a mean mohito with freshly picked mint, that was great as an exfoliant for Jarrod's face (and as a cladding for his teeth). While the boys at the bar spoke very limited English, it matched quite nicely with our very limited Spanish in such a way that we managed to communicate efficiently through alcohol. Perhaps the most interesting part was going to the non-flushing toilets. While we liked to think that it added character, it also added a unique flavour to the back of the throat.

Three days later it was time to leave... but we slid in a little sight-seeing on our way out. The town square was a particular highlight, with much dancing and a festival atmosphere. Diego should, however, have avoided the street vendor's hotdog, which kept him company for the next couple of days.

The ride to Mazunte (via Huatulco) seemed straight forward enough. At about 200 kilometres it shouldn't take longer than a few hours, even on Mexican time. WRONG. While waiting for the bus we start chatting to a couple of girls from Mexico City that are heading in the same direction. They tell us that the trip is a little harrowing. Sure enough, eight hours later we are still in the friggin bus winding around corners and bouncing over speed bumps. Next time, I think we'll fly that section!

Finally, we made it to Mazunte, and the heat sent us straight to San Augustinillo to cool off. What an amazing place, with restaurants lined up along the shoreline. Waves crashing into the beach completed the picture, and a few days later we would find out just how powerful they were!

Mazunte is famous for its sunsets over Punta Comita, and it is here that the girls from Mexico City were found a little out of their element. For a couple of girls that could spin around the dancefloor like a frog in a blender they could not walk up or down a hill. It simply defied logic. With some expert guidance they did make it to the lookout, but the only sight was the naked backpacker skinny dipping on the lower beach as the sun was obscured by thick cloud. Oh well, there's always next time...

The benefit of making it to Punta Comita was that we found Rinconcito on the way back. Think Nimbin, but on a much smaller scale. Frequented by a community of John Butler lookalikes and their children, the place had such a laid back feel it was laying down. After a couple of nights we thought we might just come back here...

Huatulco beckoned with its promise of beautiful beaches and opportunities to get out into the forest as well as into the water. We satisfied all the options by taking tour into the hills to see some waterfalls and get some organic coffee from a local plantation, and by taking a boat tour to some snorkelling spots. Apart from the testicle hiding crispness of the water at the falls, the highlight may have been the tropical storm that hit as we were trying to eat lunch on the boat tour. Our seafood platter rapidly became a seafood soup as the plate filled with water, but it certainly made the experience a memorable one.

Puerto Escondito was next on the agenda, a place reknowned for its surfing and prevalence of Australian travellers, but we thought we might just drop back into Rinconcito for a bit. Ten days later, we could be found on the same beach in Rinconcito and thoughts of Puerto Escondito (and the Yucatan Peninsula) faded from our memory as we celebrated Dave's 31st birthday. Our days here were occupied with internet sessions, eating, swimming and a few lazy cervasas. Each day was essentially the same, only the order in which we attacked things changed... We met some fantastic people... among them the proprietor of Siddhartha, named Eric. His work uniform usually consisted of a pair of shorts, and a beer or smoke in one hand. Ric, our local celebrity and movie producer. And Encarni, our juggling school teacher/children's television host/writer and atom bomb drill intructor. Hanging out with these guys was a real dogfight.

After a failed attempt at leaving due to a safe and passport mishap, we finally escaped the clutches of this beautiful place. We waved goodbye to the cama-loca´s and made our way towards Chiapas with tears in our eyes... though we were little prepared for what awaited us in San Cristobel.