Julie & Joe's Travels

Photos: Beautiful Albany

priovolo — Sat, 7 Aug 2010 19:41:00 GMT

some snapshots of our current home

Photos: How's the Serenity?

priovolo — Tue, 4 May 2010 15:16:00 GMT

Albany, Western Australia

Photos: Captivating Cambodia

priovolo — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 22:54:00 GMT

Exploring urban and rural Cambodia

Photos: Captivating Cambodia II

priovolo — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 22:54:00 GMT

Cambodia

Photos: We love China

priovolo — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 22:07:00 GMT

Korean Taxi's

priovolo — Mon, 6 Apr 2009 15:33:00 GMT

You need a cab. You see one flying down the street. You squint to see if the red vacant light is on. It’s on. You stick your hand out. The cab driver ducks his head and peers out the front dash window. He slows down. He gets to a distance when he sees you clearly: a waegook (foreigner). This is a crucial moment. Most of the time he slows down and pulls up next to you. No worries. Then there are the other times: you can almost see it, the contemplation occurring in his mind of whether or not he is feeling brave enough to pick up a foreigner. The slowing down turns into a stomp on the accelerator and he goes zooming by without a glance. In most instances when you do manage to grab a cab, there is yet another critical moment. This is the moment that will completely determine your fate for the next 5 minutes… Welcome to the Korean taxi world.

There are 3 possible scenarios:

1. Upon entering the cab, with your biggest “annyoeong hasseyo” possible, if you only receive but a grunt, the prospects are not looking good. At this point you can assume 2 things:

A. The driver will claim to not understand a word you say

B. The driver will claim to not understand a word you say and in the mean time drive around in circles with the meter running as he tries to “understand.”

We usually can assume this outcome if the taxi driver is an elderly man. Experiences in the war must have not been good ones. You can expect money to be thrown at you. And don’t even think about a “good bye.”

2. Upon entering the cab, with your biggest “annyeong hasseyo” possible, the taxi driver does the Korean “oh!” Now for those living in Korea, you know exactly what I am talking about. There is so much meaning behind a simple sound. There are feelings of shock, surprise, resentment, excitement and panic. A foreigner. How will I communicate? Have I made a mistake by picking her up? At this point you speak as much Korean as you can spit out to ensure that you have asked where to go in a formal and polite manner. This ambitious trial of a foreign language can take you 3 places:

A. The driver assumes your Korean is fluent and goes on speaking to you the entire duration of travel time

B. The driver compliments your Korean and keeps to himself occasionally asking you a random simple question to test your Korean ability. If you are American, this is the type of taxi driver that will usually yell “OBAMA!” and “Busch-ee bad!”

3. The last type is the one who looks at you as if you were any one of the locals hopping in and out of his cab all day. He takes your destination order, drives you in peace, hands your money back respectably and greets you as you climb out of the car.

If you are lucky enough you can experience the “race car wannabe” cab drivers. These drivers think the roads are the Grand Prix and seemed to be confused with the reality of it all. The taxi’s will come equipped with padded roofs, tinted windows, neon lights and even a fire extinguisher for those unfortunate tricks-gone-bad. Do a prayer and hold on. Focus on your destination while he zips and speeds through the traffic and streets.

I would like to comment on the cleanliness and obvious attention to detail in these cabs. In the (what seems like) hundreds of cabs I have taken, EVERY SINGLE ONE of them was immaculate. Not a pinch of dust or scrape distorted the presentation of the dashboard. Leather glistens and the sweet aroma of air freshner always attacks your nose full force. on the sides of the roads in the long taxi stand, you can see the drivers stepping outside for a smoke and to dust off their car with an over-sized feather duster.

While they wait for a customer a few congregate near the curb for some chit chat while others watch their TV’s drilled into the dashboards and nod off.

Walking up to a Korean taxi is always a new and interesting experience.

Gallery: Beijing Parte 2

priovolo — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 01:09:00 GMT

Gallery: Beijing

priovolo — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 01:03:00 GMT

Gallery: Qingdao & Rural China

priovolo — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 00:47:00 GMT

Gallery: Costa Rica

priovolo — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 15:14:00 GMT

Gallery: Nicaragua

priovolo — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 15:07:00 GMT

Gallery: Honduras 2008

priovolo — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:25:00 GMT

Central America Trip

Gallery: Guatemala 2008

priovolo — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 10:15:00 GMT

Central America Trip

Asia Again???

priovolo — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 04:45:00 GMT

So, just to inform those of you who care or are interested, Joe and I have made a plan for after our trip...

We are going to... South Korea. Yes, yes, you read it right. After months of discussion and debate we have made our decision. The opportunities all across the board are just too good to pass up.

The plan is to work for a year (or shorter depending on how much we like it) and then do China and Southeast Asia.

Ok, that is our current story! Let us know if you will be in the area or would like to join...

Peace and Love!!!

The Noise Never Subsides on Isla Bastimentos, Bocas del Toro, Panama

priovolo — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 10:05:00 GMT

With a population of like 50, we cannot understand how a tiny village on a tiny island can produce so much noise! We cannot even say that it was from sun up to sun down, because it even continued during the night! The darkness brought on the symphony of howling from the nappy street driven dogs and the loud beats of the abandoned bar on the end of the island. As the sun came up so did the hourly screams of the baby living next to us and the 10 foot speaker that pounded reggae beats all day decorated with a group of locals sitting around it drinking alcohol. Everyday. It never failed. We could not understand how these troopers could sit in front of this speaker all day because as we walked passed it we had to pause our conversation and continue as soon as we were like 30 feet away from it. For those of you thinking in meters, figure out the measurements yourself, haha.

A little background info on the great island. United Fruit Company (Dole. the company that we get all of our tropical fruits from) employed 90% of the population on this island. I do not know when exactly but UFC decided that they expoited enough so they ran out leaving 90% of the population unemployed. So, you can imagine all the great things to do on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere for the 90% of the population that is not working.

Back another time with the rest....

Ok, so where was I... anyway, to make a long story short the economic situation is not great there. But what is great there are the beaches. Our beach days were nothing short of an adventure. A walk down the only walkway on the island and a 20 minute jungle hike brought us to one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. Sprawling sand sat between a beautiful backdrop of thick junlge and large creashing waves coming forcefully from the Carribean. Because of its difficult access, we always enjoyed it with just a handful of other beach goers, mostly surfers. The Sand Flies were at attack and ate my legs alive and even now after 2 weeks I still have the nasty little red bumps and the intnense scratching that never seems to stop. Worth the beach though.

We also found the most beautiful home on 5 hectares of land and the lovely Scottish woman who lived there with her son and husband. She produces her own line of natural body products and is the core reason for my new obsession with coconut oil. Coconut oil in my hair, coconut oil in my food, coconut oil on my skin... I have learned the miraculous healing properties of coconut and I am never looking back on anything else. Well, she has a website, www.upinthehill.com and though you cannot purchase anything now, she is planning to get an ordering program going and when she does, I highly recommend you buy everything she sells.

So our lazy days in Bastimentos came to an end yesterday and we decided to ease our traveling a bit and fly to Panama City rather than take a bus for like 2 days. It was nice being on a plane again. It makes you appreciate all the long and painful hours you endured on bumpy bus trips.

So here we are in Panama City and are absolutely loving the fusion of modern skyscrapers with old rustic colonial buildings.

For those few who understand... there is a Zara here in Panama City. Yes, I know.. exciting.

Midnight Hikes on the Beach; Tortuguero, Costa Rica

priovolo — Sat, 31 May 2008 05:26:00 GMT

Once we crossed the border of Nicaragua into Costa Rica, we hopped on a, what was supposed to be, 4 hour bus ride but actually was closer to 7, towards San Jose. Lucky for Joe and I, our tardiness bought us the 2 best seats in the bus where we could stretch out our longer than life legs. The scenery in Costa Rica was noticably much more lush and dense with wild jungle. It was the most beautiful bus ride we had taken. We swirved around and through cloud forests, zipped by small towns in the middle of nowhere and were pleased to see little to no trash on the roadsides, a view we had become very accustomed to in other Central American countries.

We arrived into San Jose at night and it the middle of a heavy heavy rain shower. We pulled up to a corner just loaded with people and as we walked off the bus we were advised by a few locals to basically get the hell out of there as soon as we could. Not the safest part of town. As I waited for Joe to get our bags I was approached by several rather busted ass looking ladies with no teeth offering me a taxi. Yea, right.

There happened to be another traveler on board with us, Joanna, who would soon become our travel buddy. The 3 of us jumped into a cab and gave a sigh of relief to be out of there. We opted to spend the night at a quite famous and way too big hostel. San Jose appeared much more industrialized than any other capital in this region and much much more appealing for travelers, with large well known hotels everywhere.

The next morning we had another long day of bus rides. The 3 of us then met Mariake, from Holland, and she joined our group. Sorry if I spelled your name wrong, Mariake, haha. In order to get to Tortuguero, we had to take a few buses to a boat. The boat dock was in the middle of a large organic farm plantation and made a very interesting bus ride. We then had to take a 2 hour boat ride through the jungle with animals such as mokeys and crocodiles sharing our path. Yikes. The river was really shallow considering the time of year, and the boat engine kept getting sand caught in it. At one point all the boys on the boat had to hop out in the shin deep water and push the boat.

Tortuguero is literally in the middle of nowhere. No roads lead to this town\National Park. You can only arrive by boat and there are no cars or roads in the town. It is just surrounded by jungle and a river on one side and the fierce ocean on the other. Tortuguero is famous for all the Sea Turtles that come each year to the beach to lay their eggs. The government made it a National Park and protected area years back in order to prevent the extinction of all the species of turtles that come to shoer each year. The locals belive that the turtle eggs act like a natural form of VIAGRA, so you can imagine how many they left on the beach to hatch. Ha.

The thing to do there is go on a midnight hike along the pitch black beach (that is lined by jungle and Jaguars live there)to find turtles coming up the beach to lay their eggs. Sadly, we did not see any. Not the season. We walking many kilometers on the sand and saw nothing. Hiking on a beach in the middle of the night is quite interesting though and our tour guide was good fun. Joe tried again the following night but also had no luck.

Our last day we all went on a canoe tour through the canals of the jungle. Our tour guide showed us handfuls of animals such as howler monkeys, white faced monkeys, spider monkeys, iguanas, crocs, lots of birds including toucans, and huge spiders. I think the best part of the trip was watching Ricardo (the guide) look for animals. Eyes like a Hawk, I have no idea how he spotted these animals.

So we left Tortuguero and took a 4 hour boat ride down the coast of Costa Rica to a small Rasta beach town called Cahuita. The rain was terrible so one night there was suffice.

We are currently in Bocas del Torro, Panama. It is a cluster of islands near the border of Costa Rica and Panama. It is a Carribean paradise here. More about that later...

Stomach Parasites and National Bus Strikes in Esteli, Nicaragua

priovolo — Sat, 17 May 2008 09:26:00 GMT

So our quick stopover in Esteli, Nica turned out to be a week and a half adventure... more I think, but my concept of dates is off like 3-week old bread.

After our very educational experience at our Spanish school, Los Pipitos, we were pumped and ready to head to Leon; a city of history, culture and art. NOT. Sorry kids, you are not going anywhere because there is a national bus strike. Yes. Ok, no biggie, we can wait another day, even 2 if necessary. How about 5? But how lucky were our 5 days extra, you ask?

Well,I, Julie, came down with some strange stomach parasite thing-a-ma-jig. For days I sat in agony as some nasty little parasite made its way through my bowls. A good overdose on Guava syrup cleared that shit right up, no worries. However, I spent many nights awake and running to the toilet cursing my parasite and making it know it was never welcome in my temple again. I think the cursing and constant Guava syrup and tea kicked its ass. Tip, there is none because there is no way to figure out what gave it to you.

Anyhoo, we made good friends with our homestay "brother," JuanCarlos. Mnay nights were spent with JuanCarlos in front of the tele watching the History Channel and the News (Noticias).

After the 3rd day of bus striking, Joe and I just could not wander the streets of Esteli anymore, aimlessly walking into cafe's merely for something to do. JuanCarlos being the great man that he is, offered to drive us to Granada, about 2 hours south of Esteli.

Mama Dominga, as we called her, took great care of us while we stayed in her home. She cooked us fantastic meals and told us all about her way too interesing family. One of her sons was killed in the revolution, her daughter is like the head chief of the National Police force in Nica, families in the States, and super ambitious, super intelligent JuanCarlos. Una familia rica.

Oh, not being relevant to anything, Joe and I have become obsessed wit the series "House," or as they call it in Spanish, "Dr House." Love it.

So after so many days in Esteli, we finally set off this morning for Granada. The bus strike has taken a huge toll on the economy and on the highways clusters of people walk alongside hoping for a lift. Near Managua, the capital, lines and lines of buses are parked on the roads and the drivers are standing with hats facing upwards hoping for a bit of money. Very sad situation. People cannot conduct business because 90% of the population relies on public transport.

Basically the bus drivers want the government to make a fixed gas price, which of course, is not even possible. A huge political mess, to say the least.

Granada is absolutely amazing. Another entry will be wriiten in its honor. Granada is stimulating visually, culturally, artistically, among many others.

Ciao for now!

Gallery: Volcano Santiaguito

priovolo — Fri, 16 May 2008 07:02:00 GMT

2 day hike up to an active volcano near the city of Quetzaltenango

Crossing Over Honduras and into Nicaragua

priovolo — Mon, 12 May 2008 05:48:00 GMT

Crossing the border of Honduras into Nicaragua was an interesting journey and we met a few weirdos. Danli, Honduras, turned out to be a not so great city that was not what we were expecting. Safety was an issue of concern as we were hissed and glared at by the locals in the streets. Anyway it did not matter because we only stayed for a day. From Danli we had to catch a bus to a small town called El Paraiso. On our way a very drunk man willingly sat next to us and so began the terrorizing 30 minute journey to El Paraiso. He claimed to be a cop and talked a lot of shit for 30 minutes and even had the nerve to insist that I give him my dictionary because he needed it. Yea, right. I am sure a man who speaks no English needs a Spanish English Dictionary in an only speaking Spanish country. Gimmie a break. He told us we needed to get off the bus at a certain location. God bless a little old man who had been listening to our conversation because he warned me not to get off the bus and continue on because the stop we needed was far away. I asked the bus driver and he said we needed to stay on. Turns out the crazy fake policeman wanted to rob us. Anyway, he went on his miserable drunk way and we continued on. From El Paraiso we had to take yet another bus to the border town of Las Manos. And of course, at that bus stop there was a strange man who sat and stared at us and when we entered the bus he willingly sat next to us. This one did not bother us, but he was staring at us a lot. It was that moment that we decided we would not travel by bus back up to Guatemala because the hassle just is not worth it.

The border crossing was a bit surreal. For kilometers before the crossing there were hundreds of semi trucks parked alongside the road waiting for inspection. Under the trailers of the trucks, drivers gathered together and hung hammocks from under the trailer to lie on. At the crossing there were just dozens and dozens of young guys with huge wads of money waiting to exchange your Honduran Lempiras to Nicaraguan Cordobas. This is pretty much your only option because the banks around here do not want foreign currency unless it is American Dollars. So, the black market it is. But it is safe, as long as you know the exchange rate, you are alright.

We walked up to the window of Honduran Immigration and hadd to pay our ¨Gringo tax¨ for leaving. Then we walked about 3 steps to the window of the Nicaragua Immigration, got our passports stamped and paid another Gringo tax for entering. Sly dudes.

Happy to be out of Honduras, we happily talked about finally be in Nicaragua. A bus was waiting up the road and we were finally in Nicaragua. As in Guatemala and Honduras, the public buses are more often than not old used American school buses. This particular driver took great care of his and inserted red curtains along the windows. It made for a very ambient bus ride. As the bus drove along and randomly picked up passengers waiting on the sides of the road, we knew we had entered a country much different than the previous two. As the women and children and men entered the bus, we were greeted with warm and curious smiles (much different from the evil glares in other places). The poverty level was definately noticably lower. Here is some info courtesy of UNICEF

¨Nicaragua has a population of 5.1 million and an annual population growth rate of 2.7 per cent; 53 per cent of the population is under 18 years of age. Nicaragua's main challenge is to overcome inequity and poverty, which affect children and women most severely. The breakdown of income distribution shows that 45 per cent of all income goes to the richest 10 per cent of the population, while only 14 per cent goes to the poorest. Nicaragua is the third poorest country in the Americas, with a per capita gross national product of $453. Poverty affects 2.3 million persons, 831,000 of whom live in extreme poverty, mainly in the Central and Atlantic regions.

One of every three children has some degree of chronic malnutrition and nine per cent suffer from severe malnutrition. The maternal mortality rate (MMR) of 150 per 100,000 live births is unacceptably high. In the Atlantic region and areas difficult to access, MMR may be twice as high as the national average. Adolescent pregnancies account for one of every four births nationally. Safe water and sanitation coverage continues to be low, particularly in rural areas and those with dispersed populations.¨

But, do not let this statistic allow you to believe for a minute that the people here are some of the most incredible that we have ever encountered. The people are proud, proud, proud. The people here fought (literally) for their freedom of culture and politics. Nicaragua is just embellished with art and culture. Nicaragua boasts great world known poets and revolutionaries.

We would break Nicaraguan people down into 4 categories. The first would be the people who live in extreme poverty and we have not had much experience getting to know that. From what we see on the side of the road while on a bus, the poverty is very bad. Very, very bad. Very sad. People live in tiny one room houses with wild animals running around and trash everywhere. You usually find them standing in the doorways watching as the buses go by. The second category would be the elders who experienced many years of wars and revolution. Their eyes have seen many devestations. Here, in Esetli, during the revolution, every single family had a son or more fighting. Yet they remain positive and have understood that that is the way life is. The third category are the kids who resort to drugs and prostitution. The most exhilerating category are the young adults. We had the privilege of meeting Juan Carlos at the homestay we did. He was the symbol and epitome of what the young generation is passionate about. Well educated, bilingual, and ready to make some serious serious changes to their country. these people are real diamonds in the rough. It is inspiring and a relief to see young adults so motivated to make change.

Security is not an issue in Nicaragua, for the most part. We can walk freely around the streets during the day and night without fear of being bothered. Society is very tranquil and accepting of foreigners. Of course you get the few hard asses in the streets who carry on calling you a gringo americano, but whatever. We take it with a grain of salt.

Streets are filthy and dusty, buildings are colorful and graffiti makes an appearance quite often. When you get off the filthy streets and into the lives of these people, the filth subsides. Amazing place, Nicaragua.

We stayed in a city called Ocotal for a night, in what we later realized to be a sort of sex hotel, and are now in Esteli.

Esteli was the center of the revolution and has well repaired itself. We just completed a week of Spanish school and homestay. Our Spanish school was situated in a center for handicapped children and we were able to meet the kids and help out a bit. Amazing experience. Esteli offers a lot of Holistic options such as doctors and pharmacies. Me, Julie, being extremely interested in natural and holistic medicine loved loved the opportunity to buy and learn about Nicaraguan ancient remedies.

Tomorrow we hop on the bus again and are off the Leon, a very famous colonial city for museums and universities.

¡Hasta Leugo!

Roatan, The Bay Islands, Honduras... aka Paradise

priovolo — Thu, 1 May 2008 02:56:00 GMT

Because we had been traveling at a very rapid pace through Guatemala, we decided that it would be nice to slow down a little bit and head over to the Bay Islands, off the coast of Eastern Honduras. Famous for its variety of cultures, pristine beacches, well preserved coral reefs and the cheapest scuba diving in the world.. it sounded like a dream. We were told to stop in a city named Tela on the way there for its nice beach and lively town... well, the town was lively and the beach was dodgy and dirty. Did not like Tela too much. Stayed for a night.

Made our way to La Ceiba, which is the port town to get to the Bay Islands. The Bay Islands consist of 3 islands, Roatan being the largest and our destination. In La Ceiba (if i at all missed the States), we were greeted with a sleu of American franchises. Let us see, we had Popeyes, KFC, Burger King, Quiznos... I mean, you name it. There was also a Super Mega Plaza that pretty much looked like a mall back in the States. A little akward for a thrid world country. But anyway, take it with a grain of salt I guess. So blah blah, we took a ferry to the island along with a handful of other American travelers going on their one week Carribean vacation. It is easy to say you have been to Honduras when you fly into the International Airport, take the luxury liner bus to the luxury ferry and go on your way to the luxury resort... at least we are happy we did not do it that way.

Roatan was a paradise though. You can smell it in the air as you pull up to the dock. Palm trees line the ocean and jungle covers the rest of island. Our drive to our hotel was a refreshing one, the area being much less inhabited and much more peacful from what we were used to. We opted for a hotel runned by a very beautiful and interesting family that we would soon learn a lot from.

Burkes Place, aka our home for a week, was owned by a family of African decent. Many people in Central America, along the Carib coast are of African decent, coming from abandoned slave ships way back in the day. Actually, most of the islands in the Carib have that story. Roatan was a mix of Latinos (or Spaniards as the African decent people called them), the African Carib people, and the Garifuna, another African decent tribe. The Garifuna and Latinos do not really speak English, only their own respective languages, but the Carib people speak both broken, as iI like to call it, Jamaican style English, and perfect English as well.

The Burke family had cats, chickens and even about 10 deer living on their property. We learned how to properly cut open a coconut with a machete and learned about the beautiful plant species. The beach we opted to relax on every day, free of one week vacation travelers, was quaint, clean and we were even able to snorkel around the reef. Cannot complain really.

About 2 days into our stay there, we received new neighbors. Harry and Marnie. As Harry would say, what a life gift to have met these people. The moment we met them we could feel their energy and life surrounding the area. We were fortunate enough to spend a few days together, learning from them and discussing life late at night. Very special and we will never foeget their beauty. Harry, Marnie, if you are reading this, it was an honor to be in your presence, and we will never forget you. We hope you find all that you desire in life and continue your beautiful journeys. We will meet again!

And if that was not enough, we met the most lovliest people from Sweden traveling around Honduras planning a holiday for Swedish travels. We shared a bottle of wine and it was love at first site.. haha. Suzanne and Daniel, we learned a lot from you and we will never forget you. We will be looking for you when we move to Sweden to live the wonderful lives you Swedes do! We envy your jobs and wish you all the best. Please keep in touch. If you ever want to come to Chicago you have an open door. Lots of love from us...

After about a week in Roatan, we finally realized that we could not live there forever and decided to move on. Another full day of bus riding brought us to Lago de Yojoa which we thought we would accomplish a lot of, but our lazy lifestyle from Roatan came with us. Staying for about 4 days, the only thing we really accomplished was hiking around the flower and coffee plantation that we were staying on, and visiting a magnificent waterfall. Yes, we stayed on an old estate that was a producer of wild flowers and coffee beans. A beautiful river coming down from the mountains ran through the property. The backdrop was a flourishing jungle spread over handfuls of mountains. We camped at a hostel and Brewery owned by an American. We saw his dodgy collection of Ancient Lencan tools that he found while digging up his land. We think those things should probably be in a museum... and Joe ate termites to relieve his congestion. Ancient remedy. You know me, I am all about my homeopathy and alternative medicine, but I could not bring myself to do it. He said it tasted like lemon salt, haha.

Now we have been in a city called Comoyagua. It was the capital of Honduras before it moved to Tegucigalpa. Another large and colorful colonial city, there is not much to do here except see a museum or 2 and deal with the extremely rude people. So we are at the internet cafe.

Tomorrow morning we continue our journey to Danli, a cigar mecca. Then quickly moving down into Nicaragua.

Love and Peace to all... love, us