The great thumb tack adventure!

Bali in Style

2006-07-29T20:32:00.000-07:00

The Life I Live

Crippled by the surf and a heavy Saturday night out, it feels like the perfect opportunity to get back to the blog and catch up with all y'all. At this very moment i am chillin with cappachino at a small cafe in Seminyak, a beach strip not too far from the tourist hub of Kuta but far enough that its possible to avoid it...which, i do. Life is good. Too good really. I've set myself up with a sweet little beach side bungalow and a surfboard and to be honest, I don't need much more. I never wear a shirt, I shower in my shorts and I never really wander much further then the beach and back to my bungalow. Also, life is cheap. The current price of life is around 15 dollars a day Canadian. This includes my bungalow, surfboard, a couple tasty local dished a day (for 3000 rupiahs...38 cents, dinner is delivered by bike to my bungalow door) and if i need it a motorbike. I took it upon myself to learn to ride a motorbike and learn to drive on the left hand side of the road simultaneously! So ya...pretty easy.

An Addict Is Born

Surf! ok...what can i say! Im hooked to this rush in an unbelievable way. Catching my first true waves sometime last week just about blew my head off. I did not stop smiling till the next wave came and crushed me turning me into a towel in the washing machine. Weeeeeeeeeee! Its a truly amazing feeling though and one that i doubt i will quit reaching for until the day i die. The tan looks pretty good too!

Local Life

Life as a Balinese individual is one that i am in the process of trying to understand although I am often left confused. These people are amazing. Kind without a doubt and I have made some good local friends who i chat with daily about just about everything. Indonesia on a whole is a little cursed. Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes, the bird flu...its like a ticking time bomb that could erupt at any given minute. People take it stride but it cant be easy. Making life more difficult (for visitors and locals alike) is this years lack of tourists due to the October terrorist attacks in Kuta. On the surface it easy to ignore but it is a sad scene. A level of desperation has creeped in. People who need money, need to make a sale, need to fill taxis, need to rent bikes, but, sadly there is not enough tourists. Really, there are more taxis then tourists and the result is a constant hassle (friendly but constant) of drivers, merchants, peddlers and all the like trying to make a buck. On my way to the cafe up the road from my bungalow i am typically offered a taxi between 12 and 15 times. Sometimes i do think im being made fun of a little but i don't mind.

I Probably Think Too Much

I am lucky. Most of you who are reading this are also incredibly lucky. We travel, we work and are paid what constitutes a fortune in many places around the world. We are educated and provided for. We live like kings and queens in foreign lands. Please don't let it go to your heads. I have come to believe, that the luckiest moment of my life has absolutely nothing to do with a poker tournament or any other moment in my life that will follow. It is much more simple then that. The luckiest moment of my life was birth. That one, all defining moment when i popped out and into this world. I was born in White Rock, British Columbia, Canada. What a stroke of brilliant luck. Nothing separates me from you, from the taxi driver waiting outside, from a desperate thief or a starving child or a soldier fighting for his people and his god in a freakin holy war besides that moment. I could be you. You could be me. I am thankful. I am lucky.

Homeward Bound

So moving forward. Guess what?? Im comin home....erp!! Ill be flyin into Vancouver International at around 5PM on Friday September 8th. Take a note. We gonna party. But man do I have some travel miles to log before that. Heres the rundown:

August 5th: Bali to Singapore
August 6th: Singapore to Bangkok
August 9th: Bangkok to Taipei (to party with Mike!!! Woo Hoo!)
August 18th: Taipei back to Bangkok
August 31st: Bangkok back to Singapore
September 1st: Singapore to Sydney (3 nights only as it was already booked. Its a weekend though so should be fun!!)
August 4th: Sydney back to Singapore (sigh...)

And then the grand finale!! A 32 hour mother of a haul back to Van city with layovers in Paris and Montreal. Geez...

So how do i feel about comin home?? Im scared out of my mind!!! But i cant wait to see everyone back in Vancouver, i really do miss you.

Peace

Notes from Spain

2006-06-12T05:07:00.000-07:00

Volcano like blisters erupting on the insides of my feet, a nasty case of athletes foot and a pretty decent sunburn on one half of my body, I have become the epitome of what it means to travel. A bar of soap can make my day while a fresh stick of deodorant can make it for those around me. After my morning shower today, another young traveler (who was rather cute) happened to walk in the door which, I had failed to lock. This is nothing new. I politely smiled at her and said hello at which time I reached casually for my towel.

Im going to asia tomorrow. Since the last post...

Barcelona... packed tapas bars with cheap wine seemingly flowing from the ceilings; running through dripping walls of fire in an attempt to reach a party of dragon dancing and explosions; all night beach parties fueled by even more wine and music; the awe inspiring, unfinished Sagrada Familia and all the other stunning Gaudi designs dotted around the city; and one amazing group of people to share it all with.

Sevilla... 44 degrees. Thats right...44. Too hot. Went and checked out a bull fight. All at once disturbing and fascinating. For me a one time thing. Glad I went but wont go again. Ill save the gory details. I like short sentences.

Spent my evenings couch crashing at an overbooked hostel. To be honest I enjoyed the set up of couch crashing. There were four or five of us on the couches on any given night and between us there was sort of a couch community forming. Like a secret society that no one else could possibly understand without becoming one of us. okok im a geek.

Cadiz... Ahhhh glorious nudity. Yes my Fraser family from the days gone by would have loved this place. Time to take it all off, jump in the ocean and lose your passport. Which, is exactly what I did. As well as my credit cards, bank card and 110 euros. Slick liam, real slick. So after accepting my fate and preparing the arduous task of getting my travel docs back in order I called the local cop shop one last time... no luck. so as I prepared to head to Madrid I just decided it might be worth it to become a physical presence instead of simply a voice coming from a receiver and head to the cop shop... just to be sure...

Door number 1: No we dont deal with lost items here. try the next building on the left. ok...

Door number 2: Lost passport? No I dont think it turned up. But if you want you can check down that hall. (Man points down hall) First left, second right, jump the shark pit, take the secret trap door, one more right, quickly duck (arrows shot out from the wall here) and go through the door that says, Do Not Enter. (some exaggeration for theatrical effect. it was crocs, not sharks)

Door number 3: Nope, try floor five.

Door number 4: Three confused cops staring at my passport as I walked through the door! They tried to hide it but it was to late. Ok, they didnt. They were actually really nice about it and had my cards too. Lost the 110 euros but Ill consider that a price for having the opportunity to swim naked with about 40 gorgeous Spanish chicks who began jumping up and down and splashing furiously everytime anyone shouted Cadiz! Espana! or Jump up and down and splash!

More on Cadiz... worked at a hostel here and would still be there if not for recent events. Amazing place, great staff and a fantastic vibe all around. The only place I have ever been where status is determined by ability to a) juggle, b) play the dig, c) roll a spliff or d) do a, b and c simultaneously. I am currently working on a and b together which would put me at double hippy status. Also, my time in Cadiz involved some of the best music I have played since traveling and a wicked rooftop terrace with like 14 thousand hammocks to chill in. k, another exaggeration. i like Cadiz.

Madrid... The highlight was by far checking out a world cup game at Plaza Colon with literally (I mean it this time) 14 thousand plus lunatic fans watching three giant screens. Spain however did not come out on top in this one and as a result 14 thousand plus fans were not all that happy. This would produce my first ever experience with riot Police as bottles and other blunt objects began to fly through the skies. Case and I however came out without injury and were not arrested or gassed at any point.

Moving on... In Rome today, Singapore on Tuesday and then down to Indonesia hopefully just to find a place to chill, surf and play guitar for a bit. To be honest I am looking forward to leaving Europe. Tired of the absurd euro summer prices and flash camera armies that seem to occupy any place that is even remotely interesting in the cities. I feel that I am at the same time to old and to young for the European summer tour. Maybe 5 or 6 years ago when a city party tour would have satisfied me. Or maybe in twenty years when ive slowed down just enough to not want to morph into a bowling ball every time I have to queue for something. Seriously it all makes me a little sick at times. Give me a beach. Give me a wave. Get me out of this lineup!!

Next post from somewhere in Asia

Peace

I hate hostels. I miss my friends.

2006-06-02T04:57:00.000-07:00

Quote of the Day:

your beard will die a long and painful death at the hands of my beard. people will come from miles around to pay homage to my beard.my beard will rule the land. it will block out the sun and people will call it god

James Miller

Words from the Travel Trail

So lets face it, I suck at this. I have had a million things to say over the past several weeks but now that im sitting at the comp, I cant remember a single one. Since last post, travels have taken me to London, Leeds, Dublin, Galway, Edinburgh, Glasgow, St. Andrews and now back to Leeds. Highlights included a sweet camping trip in the lake districts of England with my amazing friends Andy and Laura who i met in Costa Rica, a one week guiness binge in Ireland, hooking up with Oli, Casey and my friend Nikki in Scotland for some insane partying at which point i re-enforced my poker dominance by taking down the Scottish Poker Championship on the final night of play (oli, you still owe me 5 quid!), and many other incredible and fascinating things i simply cant remember. Sore spots included the loss of a bag containing Casey's travel soul (Credit Cards, ID, Passport) as well as both our cameras....erp!

Every place i have been i have loved but i am entirely sick of hostels and grateful for my friends who put up with me crashing out in there pads from time to time. Not sure what the next few weeks hold but definately time to get back to the surf as summer has arrived. Also quick trips to Spain, Denmark and Sweden might be in order but we will see about that. Europe is raping my wallet so might find myself back on a jet plane fairly soon with South East Asia on my mind. Calling Mike Fraser! Ill leave it at that and I will try to post soon again but its unlikely.

Couple o' Photos

Waiting on the oligator for the rest of this crop but heres a couple to wet your pallets:

Photo of the Day:

Runner Ups:

Stories from Newfoundland

2006-04-23T14:51:00.000-07:00

Thank God the Canucks didn't make the playoffs. No sarcasm intended, i really mean it. Now at least i wont have to wait up till 3AM to watch playoff hockey while roaming around Europe. Sorry to the folks back home but lets face it, they would have let you down anyways...Go Sens!

The Liam and Casey show has kicked off for what should be an exciting new season full of surprises, comedy and maybe even a little romance (not with each other of course. I always have to clarify these things cause I know how many pervs read this blog...sickos). After a quick trip through Eastern Canada (Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto) the show has arrived in St Johns, Newfoundland. So far the boys have experienced a lot of ups and downs including rental cars, tow trucks, dog bites, fish tanks, wheel chairs, surprise blizzards, family, friends, hot tubs, dance clubs and all out partying on George Street which I do believe has the potential to provide the finest late night scene in all of Canada.

Two quick topics regarding Newfoundland -

1) The weather. Hello?!?! ITS MID APRIL! Ten foot snow banks lining the street takes a little getting used to at this time of year. Something really needs to be done about this. Maybe we could form a committee and see if we can find a way speed up that global warming thingy a little bit. There was a blizzard last night!!!

2) The food. I love it. But just to give you a feel for what the Case Cadet and myself have been chowin down on, heres a sample menu: cod tongues (so good), moose stew (so damn good!), rabbit sausage, kippers (really salty fish), seal flippers, rabbit sausage, rabbit legs, minced moose, caribou, dandelion, peas pudding, figgy duff and a huge assortment of veggies and spuds...yum yum!

Some photos from Northern Bay where I spent my childhood summers at my Grandparents place:

The Story Of Screech Head:

One day, the sun came up. This was a good day. It was on this day that Liam and Casey decided to get screeched in. Generally this involves going to a bar with a bunch of Newfies and having a shot of Screech and a piece of Balony while making loud, unnecessary noises. The boys however had other plans. 1 shot of screech?? Sounds a little weak. So the decision was made to take a less traditional route involving a large bottle of screech and a snowy mountain side lacking any resemblance of a trail as well as the possibility of death by moose trampling. Thoroughly screeched and having carved a path through dense forests, craggy rocks and snowy slopes, the boys reached the top.

At was at this time on this sunny day on the top of this mountain that Liam had a wonderful, Screech inspired notion. Heres an idea, he thought to himself as a minus 5 wind picked up around him. What if I strip down to my undies and lay my clothes on the ground with the screech bottle in the hood of my hoodie? And so, Screech Head was born!

And from the evolution of Screech Head comes a little contest for those who are willing. Written below is the adaptation of a song written as a tribute to the great Screech Head. Have a look at the lyrics. First person to correctly identify the title and band of the original song will receive an undetermined prize that will be sent to your home address as soon as I find something cool enough to send.

Screech Head

Screech Head was a man
With an eager urge to please
He don't ask you for your name
While he puts your mind at ease

(Instrumental Break)

Screech climbed up a mountain
Looking for a thrill
But when he reached the top
From his neck he began to spill

(Instrumental Break)

Screech sat down for dinner
And swayed from side to side
He could barely lift a fork now
But there was no where left to hide

(Instrumental Break)

Screech Head!
Screech Head!
Screech Head!

Good luck and think hippy!

Onwards and Upwards:

A quick stop in Halifax mid next week and then the boys are Europe bound! The plan is loose so i thought i might ask for a favor from all of you. Just a quick comment from those of you who are in the know. The Topic: Must see destinations and events in Europe. Love to hear what other people have to say especially those who i trust, such as yourselves.

Anyways, lots of love from the eastern shores of Canada
Be seeing some of you in Europe!

Cheers

This Ones For Casey

2006-03-07T11:31:00.000-08:00

For no other reason then he's buggin me to update my blog. That and hes a damn good friend. Oh and he also comments a lot and I like that. Anyways, this ones for Casey...

So what have I been doing the past two weeks? Its a bit of blur really. The highlight and oddly enough the biggest blur in the events were without a doubt during carnival in Oruro, Bolivia. I have never seen such a crazy, pissed up, toilet of a city, week long party in all my life. In between the devil masks and marching bands, chaotic water fights and sneaking under bleachers to avoid paying for seats (thanks girls!!)it was difficult to find time to breathe! it was...amazing

I will break it down for you by day as well as I can remember...

Day 1: Arrival in Oruro

Bolivia is a strange place to travel by bus. A country of high altitudes, long windy roads and mountainous landscapes. It always feels as if towns are built in the middle of nowhere. Pulling into Oruro was no exception. A little hole in the ground (or mountains i guess) town with nothing for miles in any direction and really nothing all that desirable in the town itself. Flat squat little restaurants and shops, filthy streets lined up in a typical grid, empty...desolate...dusty...nothingness. If not for carnival, this town could have easily been left off the itinerary.

We arrived in the mid afternoon with the sun beating down hard and my eye lids in full disagreement with the openness that had been forced upon them after a short snooze on the bus. My traveling companion since La Paz had been an American dude named Nick (or Nico, or Nicolas) who I had met up with in search for a decent hostel and would continue to travel with until just two days ago.

Our first experience with the unavoidable wetness was almost instantaneous. You see, a big theme of carnival all over South America is the inclusion of a week long, city wide water fight. No where was this more extreme, more chaotic and more gringo targeted then in Oruro, Bolivia. After jumping out of a cab, we crossed the main strip with bleachers on either side of the street. Then we heard it....´Gringos!´ shit! There was no time to react as the balloons began to fall upon us from the skies pelting us and our bags with as little mercy as the clamping jaws of a pitbull on its unsuspecting prey. We ran, oh how we ran! Finally escaping the barrage we glanced at one another and without a word understood that we must become armed...and soon.

We found a hostel without too much trouble. What a piece of crap! Im telling you this was the bottom of the barrel of South American Hostels (ok not quite, no big ass bugs to report). But it was damn cheap, especially for carnival where prices had gone 5 times higher than the norm. Unfortunately what it lacked in price it made up for with smell. 2 beds, 4 walls, 1 bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and the smell. Ah well, not much sleep to come this week anyways.

OK, a quick side story or lesson or whatever. Cabeza means head. And when you see Cabeza on a South American menu, it still means head. Its not a nickname for french fries or chicken wings. Its H-E-A-D, head. And when you order the Cabeza and your plate of food arrives with its lovely jaw structure, teeth, eyeballs and brains still intact, dont be surprised. Thanks Nick, glad it was you and not me! Hahaha (or jajaja in español).

Day 2: Liam Gets Cocky, Liam is an Idiot

Day 2 mostly involved preparation and observation. What do we need to survive? Where will we be safe? Where are those incredibly cute and crazy girls from Chile? Yes Nick I know, i checked my emails 21 thousand times that day but hey, i was right in the end wasn't I? Anyways, I decided to begin by stocking up on water balloons, a small but powerful Spiderman squirt gun as well as a hat and some new shades cause everything was dirt cheap anyways. I had a small sack full of about 20 balloons ready to fire when we head out on to the town. It was quiet at first...too quiet. The occasional balloon would float overhead or the spray from a passing car might connect but not too much more. Then i saw it....the mother of all water fights...

It was in the plaza. 50 or 60 crazy Bolivians in an everyman for himself brawl. My heart started pounding, my trigger finger clenched as my other hand slyly picked a balloon from armory sack. I eyed the competition. Small... weak...unsuspecting. Im going in!!!

I believe i got two balloons off before it happened. It was so obvious! How could I not see this! God I truly am an idiot! The lone rabbit in a pack of hungry wolves (yes, Nick had not dared...wuss). From the bleachers I heard the call...´Gringo! Gringo! Gringo!´ and then it happened. I am not exaggerating, it was at least 30 or 40 on 1! Surrounded! Water guns that felt like a spray of tacks on skin, multiple balloons blinding me and knocking me to the ground, and the foam! Oh the foam! In my eyes, in my ears, my mouth and up my nose! I fought valiantly, I did not cower under the enemy forces. For 15 seconds I frantically tossed random balloons with all my strength in random directions as I faced the onslaught that had been my own doing. I ran to a chorus of laughter and cheers and all the while I vowed that revenge would be mine. I need some of that foam!

I like to think i gained a little local respect with my display of bravery that day, but I doubt it.

Day 3: Carnival, Parades, Costumes and Music

This is where it starts to get a little more blurry. Loreto, Irene and Tamara arrived at about the time that Nick and I were waking up due to a late night dancing and clearly carnival had begun. Truly it was an amazing day. The obvious highlight was the parade. The music carried an addictive and persuasive pulse, the costumes and dancing were elaborate and inspired, everyone wore a wide smile. It was a day for all senses to come alive.

The secret to a cheap carnival was taught to myself and Nick by our Chilean tour guides as we always managed to have the best seats in the parade without paying a dime (I can not say enough about these girls by the way, it would not have been the same without them there) I call it the bleacher duck. Finding a hole in the rows of spectators and climbing up from under the bleachers into the seat of choice. No one seemed to mind at all and it offered unsurpassed flexibility and seat selection. The day passed quickly into the night and the world around me pulsated with music and carnival vibrations. The city for its part was getting the worst of it as sweet relief was now acceptable at anytime and anywhere. This was best demonstrated during the parade when, in open view of a full crowd of parade onlookers, one of the groups trumpet players in full Carnival costume, simply had to go. So he dropped his drawers mid song and let one go right there in the street! I dont know what was more shocking, that or the troupe of bare foot dancers that followed. yuck!

Things really got going though at about 2AM when the official parade had wound down and the swarms of partiers made way towards the Church of the Socavan for El Alba which, is a sort of traditional Battle of the Bands (although there is no judge and no winners) that lasts well through sunrise and into the next day. It was absolutely beautiful. Dancing with the groups, sharing drinks with anyone who was in arms reach and feeling like there could not be a better place to be at that moment in the entire world. Ahhhh, it was good.

Day 4: The Good Times Never End

After a quick snooze we were at it again. Oh ya, the girls were sharing our room so that makes 5 bodies in a small room with two single beds. Nick, myself and the girls...oh darn.

Sunday had a different feel but did not lose any of the party atmosphere. The city now reeked like piss and garbage but no one cared. The bands continued to parade the streets but mostly without masks to allow for easier drinking. The police presence had chilled allowing more band, audience interaction and everyone was still drunk. The water fight resumed, or never really ended, and again the whole city seemed like a group of close friends. I had a great battle going with some dudes in the opposing bleachers but now it was incredibly friendly with everyone enjoying the end result of absolute wetness in the afternoon sun.

I could go on for a while here but im fading in my ability to write descriptively and want to go explore BA. Sorry, due to the constant wetness, no pictures but if you want to get a feel for the costumes, parades and overall color of the festivities, click here.

Few weeks left in SA and then this first leg will be coming to an end. Hope to hear from you all soon, ill get some photos up tomorrow or the next of Bolivia and lago titicaca in Peru...

much love, more music

2 Weeks in Peru - Adventures on an Autobus

2006-02-20T16:08:00.000-08:00

Segment 1:

The bus screeches to a hault. I open my eyes. I had been dreaming about what it would be like to be a fish. Cool dream. I look at my watch. 4:30AM. Is this the terminal? Its dark out. Why are we stopped? I need to stretch my legs. I get off the bus. Im on a highway. The road is blocked. That is a huge fucking rock! Ten minutes earlier, the bus would have been crushed. Im happy to be alive.

Segment 2:

The bus screeches to a hault. I open my eyes. I had been dreaming about what it would be like to be a bird. Cool dream. I look at my watch. 5:30AM. Is this the terminal? Its dark out. Why are we stopped? I need to stretch my legs. I get off the bus. Im on a highway. Its getting light. I can see the ocean. The bus is smoking. Black smoke. I think to myself that the bus probably shouldnt be doing that. Im tired. The police are here. Im tired and confused. The police are yelling and pointing. Im on a different bus. Its not as comfy as the one I was on before.

Segement 3:

The bus screeches around the corner. My eyes are open. I wish I was dreaming. Im not. Travellers gut. Timing sucks. The floor is wet. I tell myself its water. I hope its water. The road is windy. My arms support my body. Dont touch the seat. 22 hour bus ride. I love to travel.

Some Random Photos from the past two weeks:

Final days in Ecuador:

El Caffecito. Where many good nights begin in Cuenca, Ecuador.

Dance party!!!

A random market somewhere in Ecuador. A picture can not do this justice until they invent scented pictures. They couldbe called smelly shots or something equally lame...

Ruins and Beaches of Northern Peru:

Outside the town of Trujillo in Northern Peru, there is a beach called Huanchaco. Ive never seen a beach like this. Surrounded by desert and sandy hills with local surfers catching waves along side seals and old fisherman still using the traditional caballitos del mar fishing boat out on the water. I spent the day fishing off the pier with a local 11 year old kid while we discussed proper baiting techniques and other such fascinating topics. Great day actually. Also where I sampled Ceviche. A Peruvian seafood dish consisting of raw fish or squid or lobster marinated in lime juice and chilli peppers, then served with corn and yucca. I absolutely loved the dish but it may have been the root cause of my aforementioned travellers gut...

Lima and Cusco from a Train:

Machu Picchu:

The first view of the citadel of Machu Picchu

The bridge shown above was the actual bridge used by the Incas to reach Machu Picchu. The photo doesnt show how absolutely crazy you would have to be to cross the thing. Loco Incas!

My friend Susana praying to the anciant gods. Someone I hope to meet up with again at some point on my travels.

And of Course! More Llamas!:

Where Hippies Go To Die

2006-02-12T06:56:00.000-08:00

Its true. I have found it. The place where hippies go to die. With more dread locks and broken down Volkswagen Vans then a Grateful Dead reunion concert, Vilcabamba in southern Ecuador is one chilled out little place. I arrived here in desperate need to catch up on some sleep after some heavy party nights in Cuenca before making the cross into Peru.

My final days and nights in Cuenca were a blast, and as usual, I found myself leaving just as I had begun to get a grip on what was really going on in the place. After completing my first formal study period in Spanish (I can speak to the taxi drivers now!! The awkward silence was killing me.) I set myself up at a great hostel on recommendation from three amazing girls from Chile who who I had met the previous night at La Mesa, a little salsa joint that lights up on Wednesday nights. The rest of the week is kind of a blur although I do have scattered memories of dancing, laughing, 3 litres of beer with a private table tap, having lime juice squirted in my hair at 7AM (thanks Loreto, my hair smells great!), cheeseburgers, football chants, more dancing, regrettable random taste tests and drinking someone else's white wine from a box that we found in the fridge...all in all I cant complain. To all the crazy and amazing people I met in Cuenca, I will be seeing you again when I make my way into your parts of the world! I look forward to overstaying my welcome.

I had planned to leave you with a couple photos but I have been trying for half an hour to upload with no success. I will get them up when I arrive in Peru. Anyways, I do have to run. I just found some shiny rocks and a piece of hemp on the ground and I want to see if I can make a trade for a back massage with one of the hippies here and a VW just broke down outside the cafe...

Miss you all!

p.s. i thought about growing a beard lately, but then i saw this guy.

When it Rains it Pours - Enjoy the Photos

2006-02-05T01:17:00.000-08:00

OK! Im really wet! Decided that today would be a good day for a hike in nearby Parque Nacional El Cajas; a wild, primeval landscape of craggy hills and glacier-scoured valleys studded with breathtaking quantities of lakes, glinting like jewels against the earth and stone that surround them.

I love stealing excerpts from travel guides and pretending that I wrote them myself. The above excerpt is a great example of something that I could never write. However, so that I could not be accused of plagiarism I did make an edit or two....ok...one. I changed the word ´rock´ to ´stone´. Pretty clever hey? That kind of quick thinking got me through high school. Anyways, absolutely amazing hike although it never stopped raining (and I mean like crazy rain. The kind that seems to find its way through any number of layers of water proof clothes and actually hurts if it makes contact with bare skin. Good times) and I seemed to develop a knack for finding and subsequently stepping in knee deep sink holes of mud along the way. Made it easy for the rest of the crew to steer clear though.

Anyhow, I wont bore you all with my usual ramblings which are generally accompanied by a complete lack of meaningful direction. I have photos! Tons of photos actually. So many that I don't know where to begin. So i guess i will just begin...

The Capitolio Building -

Cubas most famous landmark. The surrounding architecture is absolutely stunning as well.

Views From The Malecon

View From My First Room In Cuba

And of Course - Me!

The Face of a Nation

2006-02-05T01:03:00.000-08:00

Take a Walk Around the Block

2006-02-05T00:51:00.000-08:00

The Cuban Music Scene

2006-02-05T00:37:00.000-08:00

Its so amazing to walk down the street in the afternoon and hear music coming from every corner. Wish i had more photos but if you check out the two performances you might recognize Eliades Ochoa drom the Buena Vista Social club. He just happened to drop in on the Casa De La Trova in Santiago one afternoon. Great show. I had the good fortune of catching countless amazing performances in Cuba ranging from Chucho Valdez performing at Jazz Fest to happening upon spontaneous rooftop jams that would just blow me away.

Take a Walk On The Not So Wild Side

2006-02-05T00:24:00.000-08:00

Cuban Art and Graf

2006-02-05T00:14:00.000-08:00

Sweet Ride!!!

2006-02-05T00:05:00.000-08:00

Sunsets and Beaches

2006-02-04T23:44:00.000-08:00

Random Shots From Cuba

2006-02-04T23:20:00.000-08:00

Get the irony?

This is a shot of a Havana pre-school. Not quite the way I remember my early school years

I am soooo creative

Costa Rica!

2006-02-04T22:21:00.000-08:00

Sorry to be lame here, but I wasn´t overly snap happy in Costa Rica. Do take note of the monkey nuts however, they are huge and white and believe me, impossible to miss. Always wondered how they avoided smacking them on a branch as they jumped from tree to tree...

See what I mean? Select the photo to see a larger version...

Nice way to spend a day

Nice way to end a day

The Ingapirca Ruins of Ecuador

2006-02-04T22:12:00.000-08:00

This One Is For My Brother

2006-02-04T20:36:00.000-08:00

In case you dont already know, I have an older brother. I love the guy and these photos were taken with him in mind. Here's why...

When were very young, my brother had a thing for llamas (not like that you perverts). In fact, it was quite regular when I was growing up that on any given Sunday afternoon I would find myself tossed in the backseat of the car (not allowed in the front since I had burned a hole in the dash with the cigarette lighter) and hauled off to one of the nearby llama farms. Here we would stand around and watch the llamas doing whatever it is that llamas do which, by the way, isn't much. If we were very lucky one of them might try to spit on us.

Anyways at some point, and I´m not sure how this happened, my brother became convinced that there was such a thing as a miniature llama that could be trained as a house pet. I was intrigued. The thought of waking up in the morning and heading downstairs to find a llama in the living room chewing on the couch or launching spitballs across the room just seemed pretty cool at the time. Still does actually. And who knew what other cool things we could teach the furry little guy to do.

However, as fate would have it, there are no miniature llamas. After visiting pretty much every llama breeding farm in the province we, as a family, had to accept the facts. We drove home, took the cat out of the attic and moved on with our lives.

As for the pictures. There are llamas all over the place in ecuador so you may see the occasional llama photo mixed in from time to time moving forward with the blog. These guys were hangin out at the ingapirca ruins. The dark haired dude actually got fairly aggressive until someone fed him a banana peel...

Ecuador - Parque Nacional El Cajas

2006-02-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

I lied earlier, the rain did stop for around 5 minutes in which, the following pictures were taken.

A moment of quiet contemplation

Has it really been a month??

2006-01-25T17:41:00.000-08:00

okay, i know...i should have called...im sorry...yes i still love you...yes i miss you...no i wont let it happen again...

Anyways, where to begin. I guess the last time that i actually posted was around christmas. Thats fucking crazy! Also, so everyone knows, i actually brought my camera down to the internet cafe tonight to upload some photos but the comp wont read it. Pics are coming soon!

So maybe i should start by letting the world (or at least the small portion that i have met) know that I will never in my entire life work at a job that only offers two weeks vacation to its employees per year. Ever. Secondly, I need to ask my closest friends...What in gods name happened to me in the last two years that pushed music so far from my life? What was i thinking? How did I even survive? Someone should have slapped me!

The new year began with an unexpected romance with lonliness. Feeling the desparate need for some self reflection and discovery I fled to the coastal town of Santa Teresa. Arriving in the evening and watching the sunset I knew that I would be putting my bags down here for a little while. The next day I rented a big ass surf board and made my first feeble attempt at the waves. Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. A blur of early morning waves as the sun creeped slowly into the still dark sky, afternoons spent lazing in hammocks in the ongoing attempt to avoid the afternoon sun, breathtaking sunsets and evening beach fire jams. I could have stayed in this place forever. But I broke a rib.

The sudden realization that February was just around the corner startled me out of what seemed like a blissful, half dream like state that I had been living in. Having now realized why everyone thought I was crazy for trying to do so much in so little time, I booked a flight to Quito, Ecuador and that is where i sit right now. The reduced plan is to spend a couple weeks here studying Spanish and letting the rib heal before surfing my way down the northern coast of peru (have to be a big wave!). From there I will head east maybe hitting towards Argentina before curling back to finish my South American adventure in Southern Chile. I guess thats still an ok trip...

Will post more often and in more detail for the remainder of this leg of the trip. Pics to come this week!

Peace

One Crazy Ride and a Week and a Half

2005-12-25T09:55:00.000-08:00

Having arrived at the bus station in Havana only to learn that my bus was running over two hours late, I decided to accept a private ride to Santiago de Cuba. Why is it that poor decisions always lead to the best stories? The ride began with a two hour tour circling around five blocks of Havana as the driver searched for another passeneger to better his fare. During this time, he introduced me to his wife, then a little later to his wife (who oddly had very little resemblance to his first wife), and a little after that to his girlfriend and another girl who apparently were going to be joining us for the 12 hour ride to Santiago. Hmmmm...

By the time we finally got on our way I figured the bus I could have taken was likely pulling into the station. But hey, what fun would that be? Ten minutes out of Havana and the driver begins to fall asleep, the car begins to smell like gas and the chica to my right begins to take a liking to me even though we can not speak a word to one another. Damn Im hot! The rest of the ride included the following events in no particular order:

Random slamming of brakes to stay awake sending passenger (me) into the back of drivers seat.
Continous repeat of the same crappy song cranked up so loud that my iPod was rendered useless. As the song came close to an end and I prayed for mercy the driver would reach over and start it up again. For 9 fucking hours!
Windows rolled down creating a back seat tornado
Occasional pit stops to grab a quick nap. At these stops the driver would thoughtfully crank his seat back into my crotch making it impossible for me to even consider getting comfy.
Occasional off road driving as the driver actually did fall asleep. At one point we came with in a few metres of driving into a river. It was the girlfriends job to keep the driver awake but several hours into the trip they would occassionaly both nod off.
Constant harrasment from the chica beside me. This came in many forms the most notable being her hands finding there way down my pants the one time I had actually managed to fall asleep. Believe it or not I dont think she was going for my money belt!
The ride was capped when I was dropped off at a bus station well outside of Santiago. I could have made a fuss but I was so damn happy to be out of that car that I didnt complain. In the end I arrived at my destination a whopping 20 mintues sooner then if I had just grabbed the bus! What a fucking ride.

Santiago de Cuba

Glad I got to see this place, but not what I hoped. Hustlers and aggressive cab drivers. Tough to make a decent friend and very little possibility of grabbing a beer without harrasment. I did see some great music at Casa de la Trova but I think I have had my only visit to this town. Here are some notes I tossed on a yellow napkin during a lonely drink at a hotel bar overlooking the main square:

Tour Groups and Motor Bikes, Coco Cabs and Taxi Drivers in eager search of their next fair. The sun carries with it a heavy heat, forcing you to join in the communal search for afternoon shade. Dark skinned girls in skin tight clothes flash an easy smile. They are thirsty for a round of drinks they can not afford. Old men beat out a tune on a rusty drum and a hand me down tres. You can hear the Cuban heartbeat. It is a pulse, a constant ryhthm. A seamless blend of chugging engines, endless conversations. The hum of a passing motor bike. The whistling and hissing of cat calls. The flick of a lighter as an old man lights a hand rolled cigar and the click of a tourists camera desperate to capture this moment for the dusty photo albums on the shelf at home...

Kinda of trailed off there...

Trinidad Baby!

From Santiago to Trinidad, life improved significantly. After meeting some class guys on the bus (no more private rides) from Santiago the next three days and nights would include snorkelling off a small island in Paradise, enjoying a lobster feast on a small beach overrun by monster iguanas, playing dominos with some incredibly friendly Cubans, pissing it up in a Disco built in a cave that would make batman envious, sipping mojitos on the stairs of the open air Casa de la Musica and just general good drunkin fun. You get the picture...

I could write for hours but then I would be broke so Im going to cut it off there. After spending nights in Vinales and the tropical Maria la Gorda, I am back in Havana and life is really good right now. I have a small apartment with three Swedish friends (Anna, Emilia and Robert) and combined with our other friend Dave from Jersey we have a solid crew. After finally getting to know this city I will be quite sad to leave it...

Monday I head to Costa Rica, but I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays. Miss you all tons. Merry Christmas and comment frequently!

Cheers

Sun Drenched Days and the Cool Havana Nights

2005-12-11T09:20:00.000-08:00

Heading south to Santiago de Cuba tomorrow but its been an amazing week in Havana. I have started to get a much better feel for Havana and I have made some great friends to soak up the nightlife with. I will do my best to recap the weeks events but net time (as always) is costly and the connection is slow...

I should start with the Cast:

Sam - Young aussie dude who wishes he was in Costa Rica surfing. Has been screwed around by the system here in Cuba for the past week and as a result always need a drink to unwind when we meet up. Fine by me!

Raquel - Aussie chick who by coincidence lives literally down the street from Sam! They had never met before Cuba....weird. Raquel is currently making an effort to speak only Spanish. I, of course, constantly ask her questions that I know she will not be able to answer. Fun little game really, drives her nuts.

David - From the European isle of Jersey. This guy has some crazy stories and has made an ideal mate to continue the drinking when everyone else has long since crashed.

Emilia and Anna - Two cool Swedish chicks who almost keep up to Dave and myself. Both have a great sense of humour and are always up for an adventure.

So The Week Went Something Like This:

Wednesday Night: Raquels Birthday and fun was had by all. Also joined by a German girl named Dani and a dude from the Yukon named Otmar (sorry if that is wrong!) we started the night with dinner at my absolute favorite place to eat in Cuba - La Roca. Styled like an old Church, you can get a drink, a great meal with meat, rice and potatoes as well as a desert for under 4 bucks! The dinner was a blast. I had the house Piano player sing Happy Birthday in Spanish and English. ¨Habby Birday to yo¨. I guess I shouldn´t make fun considering my Spanish (which is improving!). From here it was to the Hotel International Lounge for Mojitos and drinking games played in Espanol. I call this educational drinking. Once sufficiently tossed it was off to the basement of some club for salsa dancing or at least our version of it. Actually Raquel is quite good but I am pathetic. The Cubans were kind and patient but despite their best efforts the results Im afraid, came up negative. Thats about as far as memory takes me that night.

Thursday: Um, I cant remember

Friday: Great Night! Friday night was spent Hotel surfing (my new hobby) in Habana Vieja. Essentially this involves hopping from one posh hotel to another, sneaking up to the roof where there is generally a pool and a bar, and drinking mojitos or pina coladas while enjoying the live band for that evening. Each hotel has amazing views over Havana and if you can get a moment to yourself is a really great spot to contemplate the world around you and your perception of yourself and all that crap. Anyways, back in Vedado later that night we stumbled across a sick funk band playing in a smoky little dive of a jazz club. Mostly Herbie Hancock type tunes but the vibe was very 1960´s.

Saturday: Spent the day soaking up the sun at Playas del Estes, a stretch of beach 30 minutes outside Havana where creamy, soft sand collides gentlly with turquiose blue waves and where palm trees and thatched huts span out as far as you can see. I had never been to a beach like this in my life but it surpassed all expectations. Spent the day mostly body surfing waves into the beach break or occasionally catching some shade with a cold one that cost me a buck.

Saturday Night after La Roca (again) I though it would be a good idea to see who was playing at the Hotel National since I had heard Chucho Valdez often plays there in the evenings. I asked at the front desk and was blown away to learn that that night would be a special performance by The Buena Vista Social Club feturing Pio Leyva with Teresa Garcia Carturla. Quickly in the door I realized that this would certainly be a night of out of this world music but would be as far from an authentic cuban experience as was humanly possible. I had entered yuppi ville. Tables of wealthy tourists enjoying rounds of drinks each costing the equivelant of a Cubans monthly wage. The music, of course, was astonishing. The atmosphere however, (at least for what I had hoped to experience) was lacking. After spending several evenings observing the fluid poetry that is created when two Cubans hit the dance floor, this evenings display appeared more like a block of hard, refrigerated butter trying to spread itself on a slice of freshly baked bread. It was somewhat laughable. I was not dissapointed by the evening though, it was a blast. Just not what I expected.

k, my hour is up. i swear I will post some photos soon. I will try from Santiago...

peace

Chillin in Havana

2005-12-06T09:45:00.000-08:00

Observations About Myself:

Upon arrival in Havana, I was officially the white-est (how do you spell that??) person in Cuba
I am now the reddest person in Cuba(again, spelling?? is that even a word?)
No one in Cuba has ever arrived knowing less Spanish then me. Each day I impose a least a dozen awkward conversations on unsuspecting Cubans who desperately try to figure out where I am going or what I am looking for. I am learning. Slowly. I suck.
I am wearing a target that says: "Hustle Me. Please, oh please, I am dying to be hustled."

Observation About Cuba:

In Cuba, the stray dog population almost outnumbers the humans. Little runts that wander the streets freely eating scraps and looking for some shade to nap in. I think the dogs are secretly in control.
The Cuban version of the seagull is the Vulture. They circle the cities all day long and man are they ugly. Suddenly the seagull doesn't seem so bad.
A tourist is seen as an opportunity. A free beer, a quick sale, an easy buck. This makes it very difficult to make a genuine Cuban friend because it is hard to tell whether or not you are being hustled. It is not their fault however. If they disobey, the dogs will punish them.
If you do choose to make friends with Cubans, (which I have several times) always remember that the drinks are on you. Therefore two Cuban friends = 3 beers per round.
To counter the previous point, beer is cheap. Generally a buck a beer
Geckos are cool

I can not imagine life as a Cuban. I have now been in Cuba for over a week and I continue to struggle with the harsh reality of Cuban life. Imagine for a moment that you were born on a small island, 20 hours from one end to the other at a moderate driving pace. Now imagine being told that you could never leave. It is this fact that is at the route of all Cuban desperation. It is the only life they know. Hustling tourists is part of their way of life and allowing yourself to be hustled from time to time is the only way to learn more about what these people are truly experiencing. The young people of this country want change. As I share my experiences with them and tell them about our world and even the hardest among them gets a little teary eyed. Each day has been a struggle for me as I try to come to terms with this country, this way of life. That is not to say I have not enjoyed myself; the music, the busy streets, the mojitos and the long drives through breathtaking scenery in a very different land. It is just that the reality of this place has never left my mind. I simply can not imagine living life this way.

A Quick Update:

I left Cienfuegos one day later then I had hoped. I drank the water. Big mistake. It was gross. Heading towards the bus station, I managed to talk a taxi driver down from 35 pesos to 20 pesos (dollars really) to give me a ride to Havana. This was sweet because a 4 and a half ride on a crowded bus turned into a 2 and a half ride in a private car with the windows rolled down and the music cranked up. The driver knew no English so our conversations were few and brief. Nonetheless, a great ride.

I arrived in Havana and spent the first few hours arranging accommodation. I ended up finding a beautiful casa with a great lady who speaks some english. The location is very central and is very secure and private. Huge bathroom, hot water, great views. I will be staying here until mid next week studying Spanish and soaking up the music and the sunshine. I also finally found somewhere to eat! The food actually looks and tastes like food! Honestly, you dont know what this means to me

Oh I almost forgot! Havana Jazz Festival was freakin amazing! Chucho Valdez and a series of amazing guests performing in the Jazz Plaza theatre in Havana Vedado. The highlight of the show was Valdez performing with the Irakere orchestra, this is something I will never forget. A giant afro-Cuban orchestra with pounding beats and heart stopping solos from the world class trumpet section. Unbelievable.

So now I have settled in Havana for a bit. Made a couple friends, a couple of aussies who I met at the university. They are taking a one month Spanish course which I considered but decided to go with private lessons instead. Cheaper and more flexible.

Thats about it for know. I will post photos as soon as I can, I have buckets of them at now, this country is a photographers dream....Oli are you hearing this? Next week I will hit the road again, not sure where yet, I will probably decide at the bus station...

Adios!

From Havana to Cienfuegos

2005-12-02T07:38:00.000-08:00

Hola!

Sorry for the lack of posts so far, its been tough to get on the net. Right now I am on the West Coast of Cuba in the town of Cienfuegos. There are only three computers in the entire town so it is tough to get on even just to send an email. Been quite an adventure already, Cuba is a completely different world. It feels like a giant movie set from the 1950s with an elaborate new scene around every corner. Pretty tough to explain but it is certainly not what I expected...I will try to re'cap the last few days:

The Flight to Havana

An adventure of its own! Layovers in Atlanta, Costa Rica and Panama (there is a logical reason for this) made this one of the most exhausting days of my life. At one point I thought I wasn´t going to make it to Havana. A quick list of events as they happened:

45 minute flight delay in Costa Rica. Knowing that my stop over in Panama was only a little over an hour, this had me concerned.
Arrive in Panama with 11 minutes to spare. Prepared to run for my flight I depart the plane only to find myself in the middle of a runway being loaded on a crowded bus full of dozens of conversations, none of which I understood.
2 minute bus ride and I am running up a flight of stairs boarding pass in hand. I am looking for Gate 12A. At the top I see gates 10'14 but no 12A. Damn! Just as I start to freak I notice my gate. 12A written in sharpy on a ripped piece of brown cardboard propped up beside the stairs I had just ran up.
Ready to go I flash my passport and boarding pass. The attendant looks at me and says ¨tourist card please¨. I had read and been told thatthese could be picked up from customs in Cuba. Nope.
Rushed to a small info desk I am told to pay 20 dollars. I hand over the cash and in return I recieve my tourist card. Now I am being hurried back over to the gate, down the stairs and at the bottom I find myself back on the bus!
Everyone is waiting so as soon as I jump on the bus fires up, backs up about 20 feet (no, really...20 feet) and the driver tells everyone to jump off.
At this point I am laughing but I am on my way to Cuba. Pretty crazy 11 minutes though

Arriving in Havana

Synchronicity hits as soon as I land. Arriving in Havana I know not a word of Spanish. Wondering exactly how I am going to get around I find myself in the customs line behind a dozen Cubans and one young girl who was obviously not Cuban. She turns to me and asks where I am from. I tell her my name and that I am from Canada and she smiles and introduces herself. Silje from Norway. I ask her where she is staying in Cuba and she tells me she doesn´t know and is a little worried about it. Perfect! My room has two beds so I figured I had found a travelling partner. I invite her along and she happily agrees. To improve the situation, Silje speaks fluent Spanish and without her, the first couple of days would have been much more difficult. After clearing customs we leave the airport and grab a cab with Silje bargaining the price from 30 convertable pesos (dollar equivelant) down to 15. Nice Work!

Day 1 in Havana

Pretty typical for a first day in a new city that is like a totally different world. We explored Havana, made several Cuban friends who always tried to sell us something at the end of our conversation, and took 100s of photos. Seriously, Cuba is like one giant photograph. At the end of the day we retired to our Casa and that is when we were treated to something truly special that I will never forget. As we settled down for the night music could be heard accross the street from us. A couple minutes passed and soon the sky and our room was filled with some of the best Cuban music I had ever heard in my life. Out the window, at eye level, a full Cuban band was performing on the rooftop across from our casa. No standard group either. I wish Mike had been with us to identify the musicians but I am certain they had arrived for jazz fest and were just jammin the night away. I have some footage of the performance but no time now to upload. It lasted for several hours and seriously, I could not wipe the smile off my face. Truly amazing experience.

Day 2 Havana to Santa Clara to Cienfuegos

I am pretty much out of time but to finish off, I spent the last two days travelling via bus to the west coast of cuba visiting a few towns along the way. Each town is a little gem with amazing architecture and vibrant energy. I have now met up with a large crew of Nords but I will be leaving them today to head back into Havana on my own for Jazz fest and to study Spanish. Wish I had more time! Talk to everyone soon

And so it begins...

2005-11-27T21:25:00.000-08:00

9:27PM in Montreal. Bags are packed and the clock is ticking. Considering I fly out in 8 hours, I probably wont sleep at all tonight. For the duration of my travels, I will be using this blog to post my random thoughts and to re-cap the adventures I am about to have. Comment whenever you can with your own stories or advise or just to say hi!

Excited, nervous and completely freaked out...
Talk to you from Havana!