About two weeks ago, I flew North from Bogota to hit Colombia’s Caribbean coast with stops in Santa Marta, Taganga, Costeno Beach, Tayrona National Park, Barranquila (for Carnival), and Cartagena (with a night on the white beaches of Playa Blanca).

This post is about the bustling city of Santa Marta and the laid back lair for backpackers of tiny Taganga. I’ll also be using “we” at times as I’ve been traveling with a young German doctor, Ryan, who I met in Bogota the night before and happened to be on the same flight with the same route in mind.

Flying into Santa Marta, the first sight out of the plane’s window is the Caribbean ocean filled with massive barges and, with the runway just feet from the water, a sense that you’ll be having a water landing instead of hard ground. Emerging from the plane, the heat and humidity hits you after mild and balmy Bogota weather. With bags secured, it’s a $10 cab ride into town where I had booked a bed at La Brisa Loca for the night.

Cab rides have become quite an adventure as two-lane roads become four at times and motorcycles whizz in-between cars and buses. Despite the white-knuckles of passengers, drivers seem deftly skilled at navigating the traffic and I’ve always arrived safely to my destinations so far (knock on wood).

The “party” hostel, La Brisa Loca is a converted neo-classical mansion with a pool, in-house bar, and roof-top terrace with hammocks and yoga classes available in the evenings. There are also storage boxes under the beds which is great for storing valuables. You also receive a welcome beer upon arrival which is usually followed by more beers as things to do are limited in Santa Marta (note: the bar tab is paid when you check out, so keep track of drinks to avoid a shock at the end of your stay).

Santa Marta is mostly a stopover point for travelers heading East towards Taganga and Tayrona National Park. I also recommend stocking up on groceries and anything that one might need there as prices go up as you travel into more remote areas (especially Tayrona!).

With the beach-calling, I took a cab the following day into the fishing village of Taganga where I stayed for three nights (though the plan was only two). As we drove over the mountain, the view is quite breath-taking of a horseshoe-shaped bay surrounded by the Sierras. It’s a place where beach meets desert as cactuses replace palm trees.

After checking in at La Tortuga, an affordable hostel with a fantastic roof-top bar complete with hammocks and a BBQ (which we put to use our last night in Taganga), it was off to the beach. Jennifer is the bartender. She makes amazing frozen drinks, is a fantastic salsa dancer, and all-around awesome gal!

The beach in Taganga is filled with fishing boats and hippies, but you can hike along the cliffs to find several coves ranging in size and crowds. While looking for the path, we met Vicente, a local chef on his way to the beach.

He then brought us along with him to a remote fishing cove complete with a little shack that served up cold beers (Aguila) and fresh fish that you pick for about $7.

Check out the beautiful red snapper with before and after pictures below.

BEFORE

AFTER

Walking to the cove, you can see fisherman using the traditional atarrayas (round fishing nets) as they slowing tighten the nets and pull their haul to sell on the main beach around sunset.

Vicente was a great new friend and terrific guide to Taganga. We went out the first night for dinner around midnight where we enjoyed a salmon topped with shrimp, calamari, and a delicious coconut creme sauce.

After dinner, it was off for dancing at El Mirador (a bar overlooking the beach with a better view than music) and after that bar closed, we headed to Stragos where the owner opened its’ doors to new and old friends. We danced salsa until 5am and got back to La Tortuga as the sun rose.

The following day was similar with beach during the day and dancing at night (this time emerging from Stragos to sunlight and people heading to the beach to begin their day). After two late nights, I was adamant that we leave and head to the more relaxed Costeno Surf Camp and Beach. With no sleep, I packed my bag while Ryan slept on a hammock. With an hour until check out, I went up to wake him, but ended up falling asleep on a hammock to awaken two hours later.

With the room for one more night, I went with Vicente and Ryan back to our fishing cove and slept the whole day. That day, we bought a fresh tuna that weighed in at about 5 lbs which Vicente cooked that night and it was one of the best fish that I’ve ever had in my life. See before and after below.

BEFORE

AFTER

With a full belly and finally a good night’s sleep, we headed to Costeno Beach on Monday for some much-needed R&R. I’ll save that for the next post on Costeno and the breath-taking Tayrona National Park.

Hastas Luegos Amigos!

Before hitting the Caribbean coast, I took the bus ($20 r/t) for four or five hours outside of Bogota to a charming old Colonial town called Villa de Leyva. This small village overwhelms the senses as you make your way over cobble stone streets with the smell of flowers permeating through the air and soft yellow lights reflecting off of white one-story houses with terra-cotta roofs and dark green doors.

It was really refreshing to be in Villa de Leyva after five days in bustling Bogota. The bus ride also gave me my first look at Colombia’s beautiful countryside with rolling hills, rich green valleys, as well as indigenous Colombians wearing coarsely woven ponchos and bollo hats.

In de Leyva, the primary form of entertainment is found at Plaza Mayor, a huge square (one of the largest in the Americas according to Lonely Planet) where everyone gathers at night with beer and rum bought from small kiosks along the perimeter while locals strum on guitars and music blares from nearby restaurants.

We arrived in the evening at El Solar Hostel and Campesina, where friends had stayed a few weeks earlier and raved about the property, which sits on an acre of land, has an area for nightly bonfires and is run by a lovely French woman named Martha who showers you in hugs and sings “mi amor” as your arrive. While she had not received our reservation and didn’t have any room, she served us coffee and called a nearby friend, Luis Miguel, who agreed to put us up for the night. His house was perfect with a courtyard, an adorable kitten, and enough space that I got my own room (first time since being in Colombian hostels, dorm-style).

Fate seemed to be on our side that day since we barely made the bus from Bogota and then we arrive with no place to stay only to get the equivalent of an airline upgrade from coach to business class. With a roof over our heads secured, it was off to Plaza Mayor to join the laid-back party scene and later head over to El Solar for a bonfire that went until sunrise.

I recommend a visit to de Leyva to anyone who comes to Colombia. Compared to Bogota where walking around at night is discouraged, de Leyva is very safe and you can walk around at all hours of the day and night. For those looking to get out into nature, the area has a couple of waterfalls within hiking distance as well as mountain biking and horse-back riding for the more adventurous.

On Sunday afternoon, we sat across from the bus station contemplating the ride back to Bogota… a few minutes later, we found ourselves back along those cobble stone streets to the Square where we found a hostel to stay another night.

One of the lessons that I’m picking up about long-term travel is you gotta know when to stay and when to go – and the tranquil Villa de Leyva was a great place to wind down and rest up for Colombia’s crazy Caribbean coast and Carnivale!

I arrived into Bogota on Wednesday with views of lush farmland with flower greenhouses from the airplane window. Columbians are incredibly friendly as I became fast friends with my two female seat-mates who gave me plenty of helpful tips, and the Spanish words for popular local dishes and a produce that only exists in Columbia like the lulu, a orange persimmon-like fruit commonly served as juice.

I shared a cab ($5) to La Candalaria with a New Yorker, who like me felt the need to leave the daily grind to explore his passion (in his case, he’ll be working on a local farm to learn about green roofing techniques). At my hostel, the Cranky Croc, I was given a tour by Julian (who also seems to be the party-planner for those who want to go out at night) and was impressed by all the facilities including a huge kitchen, a laid back TV room with hundred of movies, and a nice communal area with fellow travelers typing away on laptops (free wifi) to determine where they’re heading next. I’m staying in a six-person dorm at the top of the hostel (nice and quiet at night) with warm comforters, reading lights, and luggage lockers with electrical outlets inside (totally sweet!). Did I mention that it’s only $11 a night!

The La Candalaria district is a hub for backpackers as there are many hostels and bars within walking distance. During the day, you can wonder around to visit the area’s several museums (many are free and others are less than $2 to enter) and charming restaurants hidden behind inconspicuous doorways. At night, the area is known for being a bit dodgy so people tend to travel in large groups or just hang out in the hostel with local beer (my favorite is Poker and costs a dollar) and rum from the corner store.

One of my favorite aspects of hostels is the vast number of travelers, who become fast friends and incredible resources as many have been trekking around Columbia and various other Latin American countries. I spent the first night watching movies and meeting others (many of whom are already en route to Ecuador, the Caribbean coast, and various other places). I was beat after two days of travel and a bit intimidated by the warnings of the others about going out after dark.

I did venture across the street to Crazy Mongolian for a delicious stir-fry made from a buffet of fresh vegetables and meats, homemade sauces, and the pleasure of meeting the owner and chef, Jose, who speaks great English and happily shared an updated guidebook for me to read while he made my lunch/dinner. The cost was 11,000 peso which amounts to about $6.

On Wednesday, I joined with a motley crew of Australians and Canadians to visit see some sights and visit the Police Museum. It seemed appropriate as the police are everywhere in Bogota and after learning more about Columbia’s history, I really appreciate their service and hard work to transform this country from the dangerous, personal playground of Pablo Escobar in the 80s and 90s to a place that has adopted the slogan, “Colombia – the only risk is wanting to stay longer.” After three days here, I’d agree – though like anywhere, you have to be smart and there are stories of mugging and robberies, but most were the result of poor decision-making and bad luck.

Julian from the Croc took us to a fantastic lunch place where I had Bandeja Paisa, a traditional dish with white rice, red beans, ground beef, plantain, dirty rice, chorizo, arepa, avocado and a fried egg. The cost of this delicious and filling meal was 8,000 pesos – with a 1,000 peso tip, this translates to about $5.

The Police Museum is free and provides English-speaking police officers that explain the country’s tumultuous history and a time when Escobar offered a bounty for every officer killed – even awarding a Harley Davidson with gold and silver accents to his cousin for killing a hundred policemen. The museum is by no means a tribute to Escobar and the guides make a point to stress at every opportunity the devastating effect of cocaine on the country – a battle that continues to rage on in the jungles.

Our 18 year old guide, Sebastian, had shrapnel in his back from a landmine during his time in the jungle over the course of two years of service. He said that he was thankful to have his legs as many officers are not as lucky. Did you know that Columbia has the third most landmines in the world and is only second to Sudan in the highest number of displaced people?

Sebastian’s (nicknamed BamBam because he gets the big guns) favorite part of the museum is the roof which offers breathtaking views of the city, surrounding mountains, and the impressive Monserrate peak. Afterward, we stopped for some caffeine ($1.50) and did a bit of grocery shopping for breakfast supplies ($2.75). We hit up the Mongolian place for dinner again (it’s great food, cheap, and Jose isn’t hard on the eyes either) and hung out in the hostel the rest of the night.

Today, I hiked up Monserrate with my new Australian friends in the morning. The 1,500 step climb is really breathtaking – not just because of the view, but for the frequent stops to breath as air continues to thin another 700 feet above Bogota’s elevation of 2,574 feet. The trail just re-opened about a month ago and it is bustling with bare-footed pilgrims heading to the beautiful white church, young students, and some brave Bogotanos working out as they run up and down (some lapping us as we panted our way up).

The trail has been closed for renovations for the past two years and most guidebooks (Lonely Planet included) caution that the route is best done on the weekends as mugging is a common. For those coming to Bogota, that was four or five years ago.

So have no fear and do this gorgeous hike. I think this is a prime example of how much Bogota has changed and about the misperceptions that outsiders have about the place. Police were stationed every 300 feet on the trail and send a clear signal that this isn’t the crime-ridden Bogota of yesteryear. I’d also like to add that Washington, D.C. has a worse crime rate than Bogota.

After our trek, where we met many students and fellow travelers, we had lunch near the University (which is located right off the path). I had the almuerzo ejecutivo (executive lunch), a two-course meal with a small bowl of stew (ajiaco) and a plate of steak, rice and beans, and a small salad, for about 10,000 pesos or $5.50.

Tonight, we’re having a BBQ at the hostel that I hear is pretty darn good. After, a big group is heading to Andres Carne De Res in a party bus for a night of dancing. Andres is the place to go for a night. Though located in Chia, a small town about an hour from Bogota, that doesn’t stop throngs of people from going for dinner and then a spectacle of dancing mixed with cabaret. The party bus is perfect as drinks can be quite expensive at Andres as can transportation – two birds, one stone.

I’m heading North tomorrow to Villa de Leyva, a charming old colonial city in Boyacá in Colombia. Villa de Leyva is one of the few towns in Colombia that conserved all its colonial architecture. It is located 150 km north from Bogotá and about a three or four hour bus ride. I’ll be going with a few friends (including a fellow DCer) for a chill night by a bonfire.

Santa Marta on the caribbean coast will be my next stop. The hour and a half flight leaves on Wednesday from Bogota. I chose to spend $100 to avoid a 24 hour bus ride (that is only about $30 cheaper). Given how cheap everything is, why not take advantage of being under-budget. Til next post!

Hasta Luego Amigos!

Well, it’s a lazy Sunday in the sleepy town of Nosara where I’ve spent the past two weeks. It’s been more than a few days since I’ve written a post so here’s a quick update on my goings on: Spanish, Yoga, exploring the Hotel Nosara (just wait til you see the pictures), and partying at the rodeo with big bulls chasing drunk men (see how dangerous it is here).

I’ve had a really chill week with my last Spanish class on Friday. For anyone that wants to learn Spanish in a beautiful place with great teachers, I can’t recommend the Nosara Spanish Institute enough. I feel like I have a great base to head down to South America and while four hours a day can be tedious – most were spent laughing while learning.

I interviewed Marco on Tuesday for a post on Sustainable Nosara which I’ll work on tomorrow. I’m also writing a travel piece for Mom It Forward about how Nosara is a great place for all ages – and far better than Disneyland for kids and adults!

I got my zen on at the Nosara Yoga Institute on Wednesday. Now I’m no yogi, but with a studio set in the jungle on a mountain top, I couldn’t help but try it out. My intention (apparently, you’re supposed to have a goal that you want to achieve during your practice) was to just relax and stretch. Intention achieved.

Exploring the Hotel Nosara

On Thursday, I explored Hotel Nosara with Gretchen and K.C., who are on month 13 of traveling the Americas. I’ve always been enamored by this strange, almost abandoned, towering building that looks like it’s out of the Disney movie, Aladdin. I had tried to check it out last year, but was chased off by a pack of dogs (a recurring theme it seems). This time, I showed no fear and got to wonder around for a bit. I’ll tell you what I’ve heard about the Hotel Nosara -which always makes me think of the song, Hotel California, as it is a lovely, yet lonely place.

The Hotel Nosara was the first hotel built here about 30 years ago. It’s owned by John Frazier, a reclusive Greek businessman, who also owns a few other businesses in town and still lives on the top floor. Apparently in it’s heyday, Hotel Nosara was quite impressive, but, for the past 10 or 15 years, hasn’t been open as John has transformed the building into a gigantic Hookah (see the hand at the top loading it with tobacco or pot – which I hear he smokes a lot of).

While the Hotel appears empty, the grounds and pool are immaculate. I also heard a rumor that John lives below the pool which, if true, would be a tragedy as the view from the tower looks quite impressive.

This is a mural on one of the walls that seems to show a man guiding a donkey loaded up with the various parts of the building. Very interesting.

And that’s all I know of the mysterious Hotel Nosara.

Friday was my last night at Anna’s house. We ordered pizza and watched telenovillas. I’m going to help her re-write the brochure for her Cabinas and my dad is sending a wireless router down – as it will be of much better use to her than in a storage box. She gave me a ride into town on Saturday and we said our goodbyes, but I’m sure I’ll see her on my next trip here.

Nosara Rodeo and Fiesta

I was so excited to be here during rodeo season which I’ve always read about and wanted to witness. It’s five days of music, horse parades, carnival rides, lots of Imperial (the official beer of Costa Rica) and terrific food with succulent meat kabobs and delicious papusas (corn cakes filled with various meat and topped with a pickled coleslaw).

The main nightly event is bull riding (and chasing) where a cowboy rides until bucked off and than a crowd of drunk locals and tourists alike chase after the bull until the bull chases them. We were perched on the fence surrounding the arena, lifting our legs as the bulls rocketed past us. It’s not for the faint of heart, but I can say that I was smarter than the guys in the arena – one of whom had the misfortune of being hooked by the bull twice and just barely survived (see video link at top).

Peace out Nosara, Hello Colombia

It was a great time and a stellar way to wind down my time in Nosara. I take the local bus tomorrow to San Jose as my flight leaves on Tuesday. The ticketed seats were already sold out so looks like I’ll be standing for 5 or so hours. I have a 12 hour layover in Ft. Lauderdale so I’ll be staying with my dear friends, Emily and Ryan, that night, then off to Bogota, Colombia on Wednesday.

I’m looking forward to seeing a new country and have already connected with quite a few friends of friends there. I hope to visit with a few projects in Bogota that are helping women displaced by the violence in rural areas and plan on making my way up to Cartegena, down to Medellin, and then further down to Leticia where I’ll be taking a fast boat into Peru for the month of March.

One of my favorite aspects of solo travel is meeting new people and not being tethered to someone else so you’re free to do what you want and when you want. Some of the challenges that come along with this are that you have to put yourself out there a bit and if you find yourself too far out, you don’t have the luxury of a friend to easily swoop in with an excuse to bring you back in. Hence the title of today’s post, “being chased by men and dogs.”

Now many may chuckle and think, “aren’t you talking about one in the same?” To this I say, “no” (well, maybe a few of them). I was actually chased by dogs on Thursday night, in addition to being chased (metaphorically) by men all week. The physical chase was a turning point in how I will deal with men and dogs in the future. I’ll explain further and rant a bit now…

Arriving in Nosara, I was fresh off the plane with a short stint in San Jose where I had a really great (and platonic) time drinking beers and chatting all night with two male travelers at our hostel. I’ve always had a lot of male friends – dating back to when I was 5 years old (his name was Austin, with whom I bathed and roller skated with). Only a few friendships have evolved into something more (though all dissolved into heart-breaking train wrecks), but for the most part, I find that I tend to befriend guys more quickly then gals – and when you’re on the road, time is of the essence.

It first started with Jay (a 60-something year old Floridian), who was staying at my first hostel and offered me a used pair of sandals (after mine broke) and a beer as we talked about what brought us to Nosara. First day was fine – then he started to make creepy comments pertaining to filling a void, massages, and nakedness (ewww!). As I vented to the bartender, after Jay had come over with more salacious comments, and practiced some of my Spanish… I was then told by the bartender that for his help with my homework, he deserved a kiss. I gave him a hug and he whipped his head around to awkwardly plant a semi-wet kiss halfway on my mouth and cheek (ugh!). Needless to say, I haven’t gone back since the incident (and I also found out that the bartender was married).

On Thursday night, I went to Il Basilica for great pizza with a few women from the Spanish Institute to see Tico Hendrix (I couldn’t get a picture of him).

I thought Tico was a harmless, eccentric old man, until I complemented his music and found him inviting me to his house an hour away and giving me his number. I said I was very busy here, but he was persistent as a dog begging for dinner scraps and even sang, “Call me Kim, Kim call me” over and over as I left the restaurant to head to reggae night at La Banana, just up the street. I had laughed off the past few experiences, but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

As someone who likes to meet and talk to others, am I supposed to sit stone-faced and silent to avoid these encounters? No way. The whole point of this trip is to feel free and I started to get really angry that these men had made me feel trapped.

At Banana that night, I stuck around with some old friends that I had met in Nosara last year and randomly ran into again (this is a place that people keep coming back to).

When dancing, I’d ask groups of girls if I could dance with them to avoid being humped (think SNL Night at the Roxbury guys). If talking to locals, I made it clear that I wanted an amigo and not a novio – which, to their credit, many women do come to Nosara looking for a Tico boyfriend for the week so the stereotype isn’t unfounded, I’m just not that woman. Now to the dogs (the real ones)…

I left La Banana around 2am on my bike for a less than 5 minute ride back to Anna’s. As I started to bike, I saw glowing green dots on both sides of the rode and then the growling of what seemed like 20 dogs. About 10 dogs surged toward me as I sped up to try and outrun them. Relieved as the pack of dogs subsided, I turned a small corner with Anna’s sign in sight. But, it couldn’t be that easy, right? The green dots appeared again for a second wave of dogs that descended upon me with guttural growls and a few just inches from my pedals as I screamed to go away. They faded away as I pulled into Anna’s house with my heart racing and panting like those dogs in the road. I made it home safely, from both the dogs and the men. Victory!

The past few days, I’ve spent most of my time with other Spanish Institute people and travelers. My fellow student, Stephanie, took Melissa (our professora) and I out to dinner at Cafe de Paris on Friday to celebrate the 20 hours of Spanish that we’d logged that week.

We had margaritas and, after dinner, danced to a drum circle of ex-pats and locals with Melissa joining in for a few songs. Later, Stephanie gave us both a ride home in her car (which was a relief because I really couldn’t deal with those dogs for a second night).

At 5am on Saturday, I went to Oscional and San Juanillo with Marco, Joy, Millie (their little girl), and Gretchen and KC (former students on the 13 month of a career break of travel).

At Oscional, we hoped to find large turtles, but only found tracks. Regardless, the sunrise was beautiful and San Juanillo’s rocky cove was perfect for shell hunting.

I made a friend, Shiva, during breakfast (thanks KC and Gretchen) at Ancient People’s, and enjoyed a coconut (thanks Marco) back at Oscional at a local surf competition. This was all before 11am!

The rest of the weekend was pretty chill. I got a bed at Solo Bueno hostel on Saturday night so I could go out that night. Ended up meeting a couple of nice guys (Shawn and Eric) from California on the beach, who had just arrived that day. I joined them for dinner at Gilded Iguana (beer and burger, $9) and we went to Hona Lai for more beers where my amigo Roger, joined us until 12:30pm. They walked me safely back to the hostel and I fell asleep feeling better about men.

On Sunday, I read Hunger Games all day on the couch at Bueno, the beach, and Gilded Iguana pool – it’s a great read, I’ve almost finished it! The back tire of my bike got shredded en route to the beach as I heard a “hisssss” noise upon arrival. Thankfully Juan at Juan Surfo’s was able to fix it for me (used tire, new tube $15) and I was back in business! Jay bothered me a couple of times on the beach, but I think he’s harmless and just lonely. I hung out with Melissa last night at her place in the Spanish Institute complex. We chatted with our moms online, ate fruit, and shared about our weekend. I think we’ll be hanging out more this week which I’m looking forward to.

So in conclusion – I later learned that when chased by dogs, you’re supposed to stop, shake your fist and yell, and they will usually run away scared. Maybe I’ll utilize that technique when being harassed by men in the future as well!

Buenos dia amigos! Tiempo por la espanol! Ciao!

After four days in the beautiful, beach town of Nosara, I write this update listening to the sound of loud latin music (the neighbors) and mating calls of howler monkeys outside mi casa’s window (louder than the music).

SUNDAY

I arrived at Anna’s house, my home-stay, on Sunday. While awkward at first (like any time you move into a complete stranger’s home), we get along wonderfully and talk for a few hours each evening to work on my Spanish and hear more about her life and dreams. She opened up Anna’s Cabinas this past year. It took six to build as she worked two jobs to earn the money to complete the project. Anna wasn’t able to go to high school because there wasn’t one in Nosara when she was growing up, but she taught herself English and takes business and accounting classes in Nicoya (an hour drive) on the weekends. I admire her commitment and tenacity to better her life and to ensure that her sixteen year old daughter has the opportunity to be a doctor or lawyer if she wants (that’s what Anna hopes for as she wanted to be a doctor).

Nosara is spread out over about five kilometers of dusty, rock-filled roads and is 32 kms from any paved roads. The last time I was here, I had a car – now I have an old mountain bike of a former student to get to class and the beach. You see, Anna’s house is a couple kilometers from the main area of small hotels and hostels, surf shops and yoga studios – but it feels closer as everyday goes by.

My first day at Anna’s, I decided to walk to where I had stayed the night before (Kaya Sol) to get my bearings before dark so that I could go out at night to meet up with people. Marco from the Nosara Spanish Institute told me about a short cut through an abandoned housing community so I took it and promptly got lost in the winding roads that I thought would eventually lead me to the beach. After a failed attempt to get directions due to my complete lack of Spanish, I was lucky to run into a fellow Spanish student who helped me get back on the right path (which was perfect timing as panic began to set in and the feeling of being alone crept up on me). After an hour and a half of walking (including through a very cool jungle trail), I arrived at my destination with a growing blister on the bottom of my foot and the feeling that maybe I’d cut off more than I could chew. Did I mention that my flip flops broke the day before and I was borrowing my new friend Jaii’s old, size 12 flip flops?

I met a great couple at sunset on the beach from Seattle who gave me a ride back to mi casa (I was about to rent a bike just so I didn’t have to walk). I was too exhausted to go out and Anna was working at a fundraiser for the local school so I went to bed early. I went to sleep thinking tomorrow is a new day and that while staying at the hostel in town would be easier, this would be a richer experience to learn more (and get back into shape to boot). And I’m muy bueno to say that so far it has.

MONDAY

Monday was my first day of Spanish lessons – think Kindergarten in a different language, that’s how little I know. With just me and my fellow student, Stephanie, our Professora Melissa (who is fantastic) got the ball rolling and by the end of four hours, I was able to say hellos and goodbyes, introduce myself and where I’m from, and say my occupation (we just went with my former career of politics as my current situation is a bit more complicated to explain, but I’ll get there!).

That afternoon, Stephanie and I went to Rosi’s for a casado con pollo (a cheap, traditional Costa Rican dish of chicken served with rice, beans, salad, and fried plantains). We bonded over our love of the dish (so simple, yet so delicious) and lack of Spanish (muchas gracias Steph for offering to pick up lunch.)

Later on, I wrote for a bit, secured my much-needed bicycle (free – now that’s what I call karma), watched the sunset on the beach, and rode back to Anna’s for dinner. I went back out after with a six-pack ($7) of Imperial to meet friends at a beach bonfire, riding on the rocky roads with a headlamp and bandanna around my face to avoid dust kicked up by cars and ATVs (slow down!). My Seattle friends offered me a ride home after since it was almost 11pm. So with the bike in the truck, I was thankful to watch the clouds of dust through a window instead of the fog that I’d rode through earlier.

TUESDAY

Spanish on Tuesday morning was great where I learned colors, adjectives, the verb tense to be (necessary to say pretty much everything), days of the week, articles, and countries. I hung out at the pool that students can use at the Institute after (see photo below, it was muy bonita con waterfall), swung home to eat the rest of the bologna and cheese that I bought in San Jose on Friday, and bought some new flip flops ($12) at the Super Mercado.

On Tuesday nights, the Gilded Iguana has live music so I decided to reclaim my bed in the hostel room at Kaya Sol ($13) so I could drink and not worry about the commute. While doing my homework at the bar, I met Vanessa (a Canadian surfer chasing the swells in Costa Rica for the month with her hubby and friend) who invited me to a pasta dinner in their room before hitting the Iquana. She travelled for six years, sailed around the world twice and was super stoked about my trip – offering some great advice and tips for the road.

I went out hard and stayed out late. My confidence in speaking Spanish increased exponentially with every Imperial and by the end of the night, I was spending most of my time talking to the local Ticos in Spanglish and using my hands and gestures to get my point across. Around 2am, I said goodbye, promised my new amigo Roger that I’d skip out of Spanish early the next day to go to the rodeo in Santa Cruz and quietly slipped into one of the four beds (in the same clothes that I’d worn all day) for a few hours sleep before biking back to Esperanza (my part of town).

WEDNESDAY (Today as I write, but yesterday for you as I won’t have internet to post this until tomorrow)

This morning was brutal. The alarm went off at 6:30am which I promptly snoozed until 7am (classes start at 8am). With a pounding headache, I chugged some aqua and hopped on my bike for the 20 minute ride home. I learned a lot today, even if I was in a bit of a hungover haze. Needless to say, I didn’t make the rodeo, but Roger understood. After class ended at noon, I stopped by a nearby restaurant for casado ($6) and then had a two hour siesta at Anna’s before biking back to Guiones to the beach for a swim and sunset. Back at Anna’s, I interviewed her for mi tarea (homework) and that brings me to right now.

THURSDAY (Today for you, tomorrow for me)

I’ve got Spanish, but am committed to locking down a board and hitting the surf. I’m itching to get out there and, with a good night’s sleep, will be in better form then if I had attempted it today. Thursday night is reggae night at La Banana so I’ll be getting pizza with some amigos at IL Basilica to the tunes of Tico Hendrix (I’ll explain later with pictures) then dancing. It’s also two of the only places that are in my hood so super convenient and walking distance! Habla luego mis amigos! Pura Vida!

EDITOR’S NOTE – If you have read this far, thanks! There’s just so much to share! In the coming days, posts on what makes Nosara so special and how to keep it that way, surfing and what drew me to it five years ago, and recounting my escapades at La Banana and other adventures that will most certainly happen in the coming days.

I had to take a leap and a new direction with my life. The nugget of an idea was planted while listening to waves crashing and the moon reflecting in a vast ocean. What am I doing with my life? Am I happy with my current path? And, if I could step off the career train, what would I do with that freedom? The word that kept coming to me was travel. Get out, see the world and do it without reservations, commitments, or beholden to someone else’s plan or expectations. The basic idea of travel morphed into a yearlong trip that will span three continents and 11 countries. A developing world tour to get a real grasp of what life is like outside the bubble of Washington, DC, and to discover how people are changing the world everyday – and not from behind a desk.

Leaving D.C. had been on my mind for some time with passing dreams of pursuing a Fulbright in Argentina, a stint with the Peace Corps or moving to San Francisco. For me, my fears translated into finding a safe opportunity, a legitimate out that could add another notch to my resume. Needless to say the reality of every dream required applications, commitments, and, with the exception of a job interview in SF, none ever came to fruition.

This time was different. So upon arriving back from Nosara, I started talking to people about this crazy idea of travel, sought advice from those who’d done similar trips, and began putting money away whenever possible to reach my saving goal. From looking at a world map, I narrowed my list of countries to places that I’d always wanted to go and factored in my ability to travel overland (cheaper) and the cost of visas.

Like my other dalliances, I think my family and friends thought this was just another fleeting fantasy, so when I told them that I had booked my first flights, was on track to reach my saving goal, and planned on giving my work notice in November, they knew I was for real this time. While I read others’ tales of this news not being well-received, I am lucky that everyone, including my work, was excited about my adventure – well, it took a little while for the folks, but that’s expected. I’m a single woman traveling the world and they want me to get back in one piece.

So now, I’m back at the same place where it all began with no job and all the time in the world – with the exception of my daily 4-hour Spanish sessions. Marco, who runs the Nosara Spanish Institute, also works with a group, Sustainable Nosara, so I plan on getting the lowdown and reporting back for my first post on “World Changers.” I’ll also be positing tomorrow about my home-stay, Spanish, and walking miles (lost for a little bit) through the jungle. Needless to say, I’m working on getting a bike – almost like being back in D.C. except dirt roads and a headlamp instead of bike lanes and lamp posts.

Til next post! Pura Vida!

After months of saving, selling, packing, and moving, I’ve finally made my leap and so far so good. I left Atlanta yesterday morning on a 7am flight and arrived into San Jose, Costa Rica by noon. San Jose is not the prettiest of cities, but it’s where most travelers go through to get to their final destination – be it beach, volcanoes, or jungle. I’m doing the beach route.

While I debated attempting the public bus to get to my San Jose hostel cheaply, I decided to splurge on a cab ($20) to ensure that I got the trip off on the right foot. Mi Casa Hostel ($13 a night) is right next to the Sabana (one of the city’s parks or “lungs” as they are called). Not the prettiest surroundings, but the hostel itself was welcoming with a beautiful courtyard that had a tiki bar area and hammock (great wifi, hot water, 24 front desk and a pancake breakfast that I missed due to early bus, but would definitely recommend.)

Just as I started to wonder if my decision to travel solo would translate into some serious bouts of loneliness, I met a Mexican-American biochemist from Austin and a French Canadian who builds concrete silos (8 months on, 4 off – pretty sweet deal). I tagged along with them to the mini-mercado where I bought some chicken and rice (today’s lunch), the cheapest meat and cheese that I could find and coupled it with a loaf of french bread topped off with Lizano salsa (the best stuff on earth). With 3 large Pilsons, that more than covered my beverage needs for the day and night, the total was only $20 ($9 in beer, $11 in food that will be my meals until tomorrow).

After spending a couple of hours with my new friends, I met up with Karen (a friend of a friend) who offered to take me out to dinner with her boyfriend and some friends. We went to an amazing Argentinian restaurant called La Esquina de Buenos Aires where I had bife de chorizo (a steak sirloin the size of my hand) and delicious sangria.

Now this was not part of my budget plan, but Karen and Esteban kindly offered to feed me for the night which I am so appreciative for! While they offered to show me the San Jose nightlife, I opted to go back to the hostel as I has a 5:30am bus and had woken at 4am that day to catch my 7am flight. I did have a beer with the boys before hitting the sack and acquired a mosquito net in exchange for my glass beer bottles (he’ll get a few bucks for returning them).

Catching the bus in San Jose was really daunting, especially before sunrise as well as my very limited Spanish. The hostel kindly called me a cab ($3) and as we sped through small side streets, we passed a number of buses – compounding my worry that I’d accidentally take the wrong bus – but we pulled up to the bus with Nosara on it so the first hurdle of the day was cleared.

It was quite hectic and I could see the bus quickly filling up. I gathered that I was supposed to drop my bag to get checked in the hull of the bus. After I received my bag ticket, I walked up to the driver who said a number in Spanish that sounded like 4,200 colones (about $8). I handed him the money and hopped on (not realizing that other people had tickets in hand). I saw an empty seat and tried to ask the woman next to me if it was available to which she said a few Spanish words and pointed up. I assumed that meant, put your bag up top and sit on down! I realized after our first stop that the tickets have seat numbers on them and was promptly booted from my seat by the ticket holder of seat 23. For the next two hours, I stood in the aisle in a row of other standing passengers – have I mentioned yet that I was the only gringa on the bus (and a head taller then most of my fellow passengers). Thankfully a seat opened up so I got to sit for my final two hours to Nosara.

I hopped off at what I thought was the bus stop, but realized I probably could have ridden a bit longer to avoid the half kilometer walk to my hostel, Kaya Sol ($13 a night), but I better get use to walking with my back pack. My backpack weighs in at about 30 pounds and as a planner, I have pretty much everything that a gal could need on the road and then some – though that short walk already has me thinking about how to drop weight.

So here I am, in Nosara, sitting by the pool writing my first post from the road – I know it’s a bit long, but hopefully as I write more, brevity will get easier.

I move in with my homestay family tomorrow and begin two weeks of 4 hour a day Spanish classes on Monday at Nosara Spanish Institute – which after my bus ride, I’m really looking forward to not feeling like a mute in every social situation that I encounter. I’m going to eat my cold chicken and rice from yesterday then hit the beach to check out the surf. Hopefully, I’ll meet a few people to hang out with tonight as there are more groups here than solos it seems – but I have no doubt that I’ll make some fast friends and am looking forward to meeting my fellow Spanish students on Monday.

My next post will give you a bit more background about how I came to this decision which began as a seed in my brain sitting on this very same beach almost a year ago.

A few folks have asked for my packing list so below is a brain-dump for those that are interested. Pura Vida!

Kim’s Round the World Packing List

Gear -
- Osprey 65 Liter Porter bag
- Osprey DayLite pack – that attaches to Porter bag

Clothing -
- compression bags are KEY here
- 1 pair of convertible pants (because looking like a dorky traveller is part of the fun, right?)
- 2 pairs of black stretch pants (dry fit/ under armor)
- 2 pairs of long leggings
- 1 pair of black stretch capris
- 3 pairs of shorts (denim, safari style, and black cotton)
- 2 pairs of Smart Wool long sleeve shirts (smart wool
- 5 t-shirts
- 3/4 tank tops
- 2 button up collared shirts (black and white)
- A caftan/ tunic cover-up
- 1 colorful cotton dress
- 1 colorful onesie (those of you who know me, know that I love my onesies!)
- 8 pairs of undies (a few are the kind that
- 4 bras
- 4 pairs of socks
- 4 bikinis (I just couldn’t chose!)
- 2 rash guards (for surfing, one long-sleeved and one tank)
- 1 rain jacket
- 1 synthetic down jacket
- hiking shoes
- slip on flats (gotta represent my fave story Payless)
- flip flops

Technology
- Ipad 2 and Zagg built-in keyboard case
- Surge Protector with 3 plugs and 2 USB plugs
- Power Convertor
- Ipod/ and mini travel speakers (which have already been put to get use)
- Unlocked Iphone 3GS (for local sims card and to use Google Voice to talk to my peeps!)
- Emergency battery case for Iphone
- Camera (little purple point and shoot)
- Camera connectors to upload photos to Ipad

Toiletries
- Dr Bronsons All in One bar soap (for my face, body, and hair)
- The basics (toothbrush/ paste/ deodorant/ q-tips)
- Baby powder
- comb
- sunscreen

Medicine
- 4 months of anti-malarial pills
- Cipro
- Aleve
- Bengay
- bandages/ neosporin
- multi-vitamins
- anti-itch for bug bites
- anti-fungal creme
- bug spray (100% deet)
- Pepto/ Imodium

Miscellaneous
- Pocket Kite
- Travel alarm
- Locks
- bandannas
- carabeeners
- ear plugs
- eye shade
- wet wipes
- zip lock bags
- bag for laundry
- luna bars
- platypus collapsible water bottle
- couple journals and small books
- silk sleeping sheets and pillow case (to avoid bed bugs in hostels)
- a travel purse that folds up to the size of my fist

I’m probably missing a few things, but the beach is calling! Check you later!

Don’t get me wrong. I couldn’t be more incredibly stoked about this trip and I know that, for me, this is one more step towards the life I want to lead – one that follows my heart and seeks a deeper understanding of both the world and myself. For the first time in my adult life, I feel completely free and not beholden to anything or anyone – a circumstance almost more daunting then the responsibilities of a day job. But that doesn’t mean that I’m alone and this past week really showed me the incredible mountain of support out there.

The song, “Have a Little Help From My Friends,” could not have rung more true these last few days as Asia’s “Final Countdown” began permeating through every ounce of my body. With happy hours and house parties all week, yesterday, a rag tag bunch of hungover boys and girls joined me for what I’ve dubbed my “zen move” which – with military-precision – had three trucks going to drop off, deliver, and ship all of my belongings (thanks to Peggy, Pablo, and Andrew). My BFF Lucy (who also blindfolded me earlier in the day for a impromptu brunch party) spearheaded the painting team (Lauren, Justin, Zosia, MB, and Marghet) to turn my lime green surroundings back to the standard white that greeted me two and half years ago when I moved in. As you can see – we succeeded and, hopefully, with security deposit in hand (which will fund an entire month of travel). Huge thanks to everyone who helped, I couldn’t have done it without you!

Now that I’ve wrapped up the move, I hope to write more and give everyone more details about the trip and how I got to this point. I’ll also be working on some how-to posts for others thinking about taking a leap, from moving cheaply to the monster check list of to dos before leaving.

Heading out in mid-January, my journey begins in Nosara, Costa Rica, for a couple of weeks of Spanish (and some surfing on the side) where I’ll be staying with a local family. From there, it’s off to South America for three months (February-April) where I’ll be in Columbia, Peru, and Argentina for about a month at a time.  Southeast Asia will be the next stop with two months (May, June) traveling overland through Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand.  After SE Asia, I’m going to India for about two months (July, August) where I’ll take to the rails to explore that chaotic, colorful country – with the possibility of a short stint in Greece before heading to sub-Saharan Africa for the last three months (September, October, November) in Uganda, Rwanda, and Mozambique.   Any and all advice on these places – hostels, sites to see, people to meet, etc – would be much appreciated!

This blog will also be one of the first places where I’ll write in my own voice about my views and experiences as I’ve spent the last seven years speaking on behalf of others… a very exciting, yet scary endeavor so please be kind.

I’ll be writing many more posts about planning the trip, why I’ve decided to embark on this journey, as well as reports from on-the-ground so keep checking the site and subscribe if you’d like to know when I post.