Saskatoon to San Jose: A Drive to Central America

Our "Visit" to Costa Rica

2009-01-22T20:20:00.002-07:00

I'm so sorry that we haven't updated our blog in so long. I've had numerous complaints about the lack of updates so here we go......we have a lot to catch up on. They might be a little out of chronological order until we catch up.

When we arrived in Central America we were aware of the fact that our visas expire after 3 months of being here. Renewal involves a trip to a neighbouring country for a few days then back again with a fresh stamp in the passports. No problem. What we didn't realise was that things are a little different when you bring a foreign vehicle into the country. When we arrived at the border into Nicaragua we bought our vehicle insurance. It was easy - a guy walked up to us as we were about to cross "the bridge" (there's always a bridge at borders) "seguro?" yes please! that will be $12 thank you. why no problem, here you go. thst seems a reasonable price. how long is it valid for? 1 month. awesome. thank you. no thank you. have a nice trip. so off we set happy in the knowledge that at all the security checks we were all legal - all the documents were present and correct.
A few weeks after we got to San Juan del Sur, casual conversation with some other folks who had also driven here (yes there are a lot of other crazy cross continental drivers out there we've discovered) led us to the information that this insurance cannot simply be extended by a mere phonecall or trip to an embassy. Oh no. That would be too easy and make too much sense. Nothing about how anything works down here makes any logical sense. Once every 30 days we have to leave the country for a few days and renew all the vehicle papers at the border. But we were just getting so settled.
So a trip to Costa Rica loomed. I actually heard Matty utter the words.."I really don't want to have to go to Costa Rica today".....any one else out there who doesn't want to HAVE to go to Costa Rica? Land of the rainforests and cloud forests and volcanoes and beautiful beaches and.....should I go on? Hmm, I thought not.
Anyway, the biggest issue was that since we got here Dora our trusty VW steed had started to play up a little. Well a lot actually. But after 2 full days and lots of pleas for help on the internet, Matty the mechanic (and you thought he was just a musician) got her running sweet as you like.....we took her for a few test runs and i would almost go so far as to say Dora was purring.
So Jan 5th we set off for the border, having decided to head for Liberia, and treat ourselves to a night in a hotel with a hot shower. We miss hot showers - a lot.

The border is only about a half hour drive from SJDS, a pleasant jaunt along the shores of Lake Nicaragua, with the 2 volcanoes which form the island of Ometepe on the left, and a chance to see Nicaragua's new wind farm up close. Just as we were coming to the border we both looked at each other with that look of dread we have come to know. Dora was shuddering and starting to sputter again. Oh no.....will we make it to Liberia? So we get to the border and of course are bombarded by the usual onslaught of wannabe helpers. No necissitamos ayudar gracias. (Thanks but we don't need any help)but these guys don't take no for an answer. We get to the part where the official looking guys come up and start asking to see documents and handing out papers to fill in and asking for money...and so it goes on.....and its really hot....and we don't want to be here really......borders are a nightmare. So Matty switches off the engine while the guys are looking at our passports and when he's waved forwards to the next check....nothing....AH FUCK! (sorry mum) but that's exactly what was said at that moment. Followed by a what the fuck and a ......well...you can imagine. Not again! But after a few Please Dora's she started and we got moving, nursing her round the corner. What the hell are we going to do if things got worse and we are in Costa Rica and we're cutting it fine as it is to get to Liberia before dark.
Hmmm. Plan B. We had heard on the grapevine that there is a helper at the border who is a little more able than others. A helper who can make things seem not exactly as they are. A helper who can make it appear that you left the country for a period of time when in actual fact - you didn't. It didn't take us long to decide that we should seek out said helper. Well actually - he found us by some strange coincindence. So the plan was set in motion.
Basically what happens is corruption. Having managed to avoid it our entire journey down here, i'm afraid we indulged this time. There was a lot of wheeling and dealing and haggling and so on but eventually we all agreed on a price. He took our paperwork and off he went, round the endless offices and desks and photocopiers that are invloved in border crossing beauracracy. While all this was happening Matty was chatting to his amigos and dishing out copies of his CD. What started out as one gift turned into about 10 as word got out of the Canadian Musician and all of a sudden everyone wanted copies for aunties and uncles and fourth cousins twice removed.
Eventually our helper came back and told Matty to jump into the van. They were off to Costa Rica. Leaving me and the kids standing chatting with the local kids in the middle of no mans land. Eh? They came back about 10 mins later. Matty had basically driven around the Costa Rican immigration booth and straight back into Nicaragua as the helper slipped the customs guys some of our cash. We were now officially corrupt!
So another 1hr of renewing the Nicaraguan documents and we were back on the road. Home before sundown? It looked like it.
So after many thanks, and we'll see you next months for the same again, we headed back to SJDS. But all was still not well with Dora. In fact it was getting worse by the minute. Shuddering, backfiring, it was horrible. We were just praying to make it back to the town. We were about 10kms from home when things got really bad. Matty was struggling, even with all the nursing techniques he'd learned about driving a sick van recently. As we climbed the final hill before the descent into the town - the van cut out completely. We had no power. Nothing. Aargh. Thankfully though, we were at the top of the hill, so we could free wheel from here on. But it was pretty hairy. We made it to the outskirts of town and we started to meet other traffic on the road, we couldn't afford to brake or we'd lose our momentum. At one point we overtook a car while freewheeling with no power - i was laughing but i'm not sure if it was through fear or just at the sheer craziness of the entire afternoon. So we made it round the vehicle obstacles, took the turn off to the farmhouse while dodging a car parked in the middle of the road dropping off some passengers spilling onto the road too - all the while matty is still not wanting to break. We willed her on a few more meters then she was done. Well at least we were only a few hunderd meters from home. After a wee break we tried the engine again, and thankfully she was able to stutter and chug back into the yard at the farmhouse - and there she has sat ever since. Resting. Being bombarded by falling mangoes and a herd of cattle that have decided to graze our yard every night. We'll have to get her fixed properly now. Proffessional mechanics this time. Feb is looming. We've got it all to do again. Will we do things differently next time? We'll see....

A chance encounter and art day at El Carazel

2008-12-18T20:36:00.004-07:00

It has been a wonderfully heartwarming couple of days for me. The first thing to report was that baby Eir decided (with a little encouragement and support from her big sister) that it was time to finally let go of mum's fingers and walk on her own. There was much hilarity on the back porch of the farmhouse as the 3 of us played the "walk to mum, walk to big sister" game. I took a video of some of it on our camera and Freja has watched it over and over since i posted it on facebook. She laughs every time. This could also mean i'm in trouble though - now trying to keep an eye on 2 mobile toddlers!
Us gals spent yesterday morning hanging out on the finca, watching the walking video and drawing pictures. Freja was having a rainbow inspired day and i lost count of the number of rainbows we had to draw together. I don't think she'd ever asked me to draw one before so i'm not sure where the thought came from - but it did have some significance later in the day......
I had arranged to meet up with our friends Brendan and Jason for a bite to eat in town in the afternoon. They had just secured themselves an apartment for their stay here so we went to inspect. Its hard to keep driving around in the big and bulky VW when i'm just popping into town (although it can have its advantages when you have 2 babies in tow) so i had decided to walk. I've discovered though that walking here with the 2 babies requires a lot of time and patience. What should be a 10 minute walk across the river and into town actually takes around 3/4 hr! Between Freja wanting to walk on every raised kerb and Eir wanting to stretch her new found legs, not to mention the fact the EVERYONE we pass wants to stop and talk to these 2 "azules" (big blue eyes) it truly is a test of patience. However we made it eventually, met the boys and had a bite to eat. The other thing that happens every time we go into town is that the girls see the beach - and want to be on the beach. Yesterday was no different. I had managed to divert Freja into the restaurant and thought i might have got away with just heading home after we had eaten - but alas no - she had barely swallowed the last gulp of my sandwich (yes she ate all hers and promptly devoured what was rest of mine too) before the cries of mummy we NEED to go to the beach began again. There was even somewhat of a sit down protest staged in the front door of the restaurant. Eir joined in too - though she was more interested in trying eat the stones on the road. I agreed - despite the fact that i was totally unprepared, no bathing suits or towels or clean nappies - and as it was getting late in the afternoon we had a pact that we would go for half an hour then head home before it got too dark.
I thought i might be able to convince them to stay out of the water and that we could just build sandcastles. Who was i kidding? As soon as Freja got her toes in the sand she had stripped off and was in the ocean. Even Eir with her new found legs virtually ran after big sis and was up to her knees in water by the time i got to her to help her out of her clothes. They laughed and squealed at each other the entire time.
I bent down to help Eir out of a rather big wave. As i lifted my head to turn round I saw a very familiar face standing right beside me dipping his toes into the water. Mr Dieter Braun. A good friend of ours from Saskatoon. I knew he had moved to Montezuma, Costa Rica a few days before we had embarked on our adventure, but i sure wasn't expecting to see him on the beach in San Juan Del Sur. So after the "Dieter, is that you?" and the initial puzzled who is calling my name look i got in return, old friends were reunited on the beach in Nicaragua. It was really amazing to re connect with him. I had expected that we'd meet each other some how in Costa Rica in the future but never had i expected this. So we swapped stories of our adventures thus far and our hopes and dreams for the future as the girls frolicked in the waves. Then Freja ran up to me shouting "mummy,mummy, look!" and as i looked over my shoulder - there was a huge rainbow arching over the beach as the sun set into the ocean. It was beautiful. I felt as if Freja had somehow had a huge hand to play in the events of the day. Almost as if she had made it happen, from drawing rainbows earlier in the day, to convincing a reluctant mum to go on the beach - even for just a short time. Thanks Freja.
Thursday was to be art day for the kids in the little community surrounding the earthship. Our hosts Brooke and Tim have developed a fantastic relationship with the locals up there and every so often Brooke will spend some time with the kids doing some art stuff. Myself, Freja and Eir along with Brooke's friends who are here visiting were all super excited to be a part of art day. Brooke had realised as she had got to know the people that no one had any pictures of themselves or their families - no one has access to cameras. So over the past wee while she has gone crazy taking pictures of everyone. Her friends visiting had brought with them around 40 little wooded picture frames, and the idea was that the kids would each get a picture frame which they could paint however they liked, and they'd get copies of the pictures she'd taken to put in them. A kind of Christmas gift to them all. I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming excitement that met us as we drove in the truck out to the site. The kids knew we were coming and were patiently waiting for us to arrive. The ones who lived a little further away jumping in to the back of the truck as we drove past. One of the little boys broke his arm just a few days ago and seemed so sad as his friends piled on board. His mum was reluctant for him to come with us. He sat gloomily in his chair outside the house. Brooke went over to chat with him. I couldn't hear what she said to him, but i could tell from the way she stroked his cheek in comfort and gave him some stickers for his cast, that there was a wonderful bond between not only these 2, but with all the kids she meets. Luckily we had to take a detour and by the time we came back his mum had changed her mind and he could come with us - he went home with such a smile, and with his cast painted in bright blue. So we picked up more kids as we drove along the bumpy, windy, wet road and i thought that this was it - we'd be taking these kids to a house somewhere and doing some painting. Then we rounded a bend a huge cheer went up and as i looked to my left there was a whole community....kids, mums, some older men...all so excited to have art day too. Freja saw them too and "wow, look at all the kids, woohoo" was the response. There was a wonderfully warm and loving energy surrounding the whole place. So we piled out of the truck - Freja and Eir were of course a wonderful surprise and were met with the usual warm and welcoming smiles and chatter. But not only from the mums - the kids were all desperate to take Eir by the hand or pick her up and give her a huge hug, and Freja was whisked away in complete acceptance. It felt really really good to be talking Spanish again - i feel i've been horribly lacking recently - and i think people knew what i was saying - which is even better. Freja's Spanish improves everyday too. I think she already says thing i don't understand!
So after a few hours of painting it was time to go. The mums that were there seemed to enjoy the painting almost as much as the kids - after all so many of the mums are really just kids themselves. A drive back to the earthship was a real treat and you could tell that all the kids just wanted to be in the back of the truck for as long as they possibly could. It was fantastic to see them return to their parents with their new pictures, and their parents too seemed genuinely thrilled to be able see the newly decorated pictures and frames. Very possibly the only christmas presents the entire household will see this year. What does Christmas mean to those who have nothing?

Eir fell asleep in the truck on the way home, Freja picked the paint off her hands - both were thrilled with their new amigos . I was thrilled to have been a part of such a beautiful experience.

Life on The Finca and at The Earthship

2008-12-12T18:55:00.003-07:00

First things first, Finca means farm and we'll get into Earthships later. Okay, ready?

San Juan Del Sur is a lovely little town with it's original roots in the fishing industry, but that is slowly changing as tourism begins to take over here. There are a few beach breaks nearby for surfers, lots of good restaurants and a beautiful ocean view, two giant cliffs almost embracing the water which is lined with fishing boats. The locals are friendly, the gringos have consciences and the weather has been nothing short of fantastic

The main reason we made this our destination was for The Earthship. Now for those of you who don't know what an Earthship is, I recommend reading this. But for those that want a simple explanation, an Earthship is a house made from completely recycled materials (usually tires) and is completely self sufficient. Pretty cool huh?

Now upon hearing of this Earthship in Nicaragua I immediately sent a flurry of e-mails to all those I could find on their website. I received a reply from Tim and Brooke, both who live in San Juan Del Sur and are very involved in the Earthship project. In one of my e-mails to them I mentioned the music festival I helped with in Saskatchewan called "Ness Creek Music Festival". So they tell me it's been a plan of theirs to have a music festival at the Earthship when it's near completion. Now we're getting somewhere..

After many e-mails back and forth I find myself behind the Finca house they rent, sitting in a VW van with two sleeping daughters brainstorming poster ideas for a music festival at an Earthship that I'm headlining. Talk about realizing a dream. Our timing was perfect too, the main project leader Dave was returning for a few weeks to really get some work done. It happened to be 2 days after we arrived that him and his crew showed up. Perfect.

So the last little while I've been out at the Earthship working away on a variety of jobs. Roofing day a couple days ago, needless to say I got fairly sun-burned - bound to happen when you're roofing with very reflective metal in a Central American Country. A couple days ago I only did a half day but came home with an interesting story.

Back on the roof we were pulling out some stray pieces of wood so that we could finish putting the metal sheets up. I was asked by Ted (one of the original Earthshippers in U.S.A.) to climb over the roof and pull some pieces out. No problem, I'm fine with heights what's the worst that could happen. Well I'll tell you.

The worst that could happen is that you are banging away with a hammer and knock a giant wasp nest. I was immediately surround by wasps, being stung on every part of the right side of my body. Trying to a hold of some footing, I scrambled up the roof with amazing dexterity considering I lost a flip flop in the process (yes I wore flip flops on the job site, something I won't repeat after what happened today). So I managed to get onto the back of the roof, still being chased and stung by wasps. I managed to get away with more than a few stings and a hell of a story. Thank god I wasn't allergic, that would have sucked.

Anyways for the last three days at work I've wired all the plugs and pounded tires for the retaining wall. Pounding tires sounds like it may be easy work let me assure you it's not. When the sun is beating down on a hot sunny day and you are outside with a sledgehammer, pounding clay into a tire until it looks like it's going to burst, it's hard work. But it's gratifying and feels nice to come home tired, not to mention how good a cold beer tastes after a day like that. Thank god, Tim, Brooke and Dave keep their cooler well stocked with beer for the ride home.

Anyways, I'm going to do my best to keep you updated with progress out at the Earthship and all things San Juan Del Sur. I should mention that we've re-connected with some friends from our school in Guatemala, Brendan and Jason have decided to stay in San Juan until February so we're in good company. Adios mi amigos, mas llantas manana.

Reminiscences

2008-12-10T13:56:00.005-07:00

As i lie here in a hammock, relaxing in the breeze while Matty is off building an earthship and the babes both sleep, a few things about our journey through Central America pop into my mind. Mainly the people. Aside from the guys at the border crossings so many desparate to rip off the easy target "scared cos we can't speak the language and are uneasy with this different culture and we've heard so many rumours" tourists, ( we fell into that catagory ourselves on occassion) there were so many decent folk dotted around pointing out the right direction, or office. I'm learning so much about people and I've never felt as acutely aware of how we are connected to each other no matter where - or who - we are.

Our time in Guatamala was fantastic and Xela very quickly makes you feel welcome and comfy and it was hard to leave. Our hosts at the school La Democracia were truly beautiful people. Right from my first meeting with them i felt completely at home - even despite the initial language barrier. Thanksgiving dinner, Matty's wee concierto, even ensuring our safety with police escorts when necessary, there was nothing that was too much trouble for them. The other students too were fantastic people, each with their different tales of adventure and interesting stories on what brings them there and where they will go to next.

Our host family Barbara, Lilia and Abuela were also so wonderfully hospitable, we really did feel like a part of the family. It wasn't just a place to stay. Barbara went over and above that. Taking the girls completely into her heart too - babysitting so Matty and I could get a bit of peace occassionally, sending us off to the cinema, giving us her truck to go on day trips, organising a few gigs for Matty to play in the city, taking the girls to play with her cousins, her sister even bought Christmas gifts for Freja and Eir. She even mentiond wanting to gift Freja one of her pedigree puppies - until she realised what a nightmare it would be at border crossings (and for mummy and daddy). There were tears when we had to say adios.
I noticed every day as i walked to school in Xela that the folks I's pass on the street seemed to have a sullen, almost frown upon their face as they look at you with slightly suspicious eyes. Perhaps it was just their disgruntlement at the chilly mountain mornings. A beunas dias or hola though and the transformation is dramatic - their faces completely light up with such spirit and charisma and warmth. I loved my walks in the mornings. I loved watching those faces light up.
I often thought it a little odd though to see the women, most of whom still dress traditionally to be standing on the street corners chatting on cell phones - a weird meeting of 2 eras.

Another thing that sticks with me about our time in Guatamala was when we visited the finca. In the afternoon all the kids were playing with each other, Freja's name was echoing around the entire place, bikes, footballs, puddles from the rainstorm, fun trancends the language gap. Then the following morning as we began our tour of the coffee plant those same kids were now at work, aged 7 or 8 i'd guess. It took me by surprise - even though we'd be told so often about kids working, and i'd seen some the day previously hiking with bags of coffee on their backs, somehow until i had actually seen them playing with my kids, and doing things i associate kids with doing iy hadn't really registered - it was a real eye opener for me to see them no longer at play, but with a serious working look on their faces, working in the world of the grown ups.

The family we met in Honduras - again totally opened themselves up to us. Everything they have became ours for that night. I must admit i felt a little inadaquate at times there. Miriam asked me if i needed some water to wash our clothes at the end of the night. Ah, ehm, no thanks....i don't really know how to without the aid of a machine......i have no idea how she managed to cook up and serve up such a huge amount of seemingly unending food for a seemingly unending number of people, in such a short space of time. The entire table was covered in freshly made tortillas. I don't even know who all the peoole were, but no one went without food. Her husband was asleep by 8pm as he leaves the house at 5am every morning to milk their 20 or so cows, back to the house with full churns by 8am then off to his day job. By that time in the morning all the women have been up for a good 2 hours too. A quick cup of coffee with some sweet bread while the entire yard is swept and cleaned - everyone picks up a broom and sweeps. The fire's started, pots of water put on to boil and some more laundry scrubbed, and then before i knew it once again Miriam has announced another huge plateful of food awaits us on the table - when exactly did she have time to cook it? I've only just managed to rub the sleep from my eyes and dress the babies?
I don't think they were a really poor family. She is a retired teacher, her daughters are now both university educated teachers, her son an engineer, they're house was relatively big, ( 3 or 4 rooms perhaps) they have TV and a truck and a blender and a few other kitchen appliances. She told me they had just added bits on to the house over time "poco a poco". Still an outside loo and shower though - why not?

More reminiscences later......

Broken Down Borders...

2008-12-08T12:11:00.002-07:00

Sunday Dec. 7th

Internet. San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua. We made it. But not without incident of course. Let me begin....
 The lovely family we stayed with in Honduras started our morning with a hot cup of coffee and biscuits. I had a quick look over the engine, it was running better than the day before but definitely still not well. We made the executive decision to soldier on, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best idea. You’ll soon learn why.

After a lovely full breakfast served by our impromptu host family (Eggs, Rice, Beans and Tortillas) we said our goodbyes and hit the road. An uneasy feeling in our collective stomachs as Dora struggled in first and second gear. Something definitely wasn’t right and I was having flashbacks of the mechanics office in Saskatoon before we left.

“There is one part that I can’t guarantee the work for, and that’s the valves. A mechanic in the past had used an after market part and it was leaking a bit. I can’t do anything about it in the time you have, but it could be fatal in the long run”.
Yikes.

Dora was fine when we were cruising along in high gear, but struggling with hills and 1st and 2nd gear. We were scared. About 1 hour into the drive and 2 police checkpoints later we approached the border of Nicaragua. We were stopped to check with the Honduras police and I shut off the van. After a quick conversation and swapping of papers I turned the van on again. She didn’t sound well and when we pulled away she backfired numerous times, sounding like the streets of Xela on game night. We pulled to the side of the road and turned her off. I got out of the van and checked the oil. I couldn’t even touch the dipstick it was so hot. I’m surprised the license plate didn’t melt.

I walked back to the police checkpoint and uttered the words I was hoping not to say on this trip. Especially not at a border, places notorious for the wheelings and dealings we had experienced thus far.

“Necisito un mechanico por favor”

Before I even uttered the words a man was there with a motorcycle offering his assistance. This man had already tried to help us once with our crossing, we declined knowing that the brother of our friend was awaiting our arrival. Without us even really having agreed to it he was off on his bike. 30 minutes to the next town he said where he knows a mechanic that he’ll bring back. So we waited.

While we waited a crowd began to gather round the van. Word got around that there were a couple gringos stuck at the border I guess. I hope it was just curiosity, but I couldn’t help but feel that these poor kids were waiting to see if there was going to be a dead van to scavenge. They really didn’t look like they had much at all, we gave them lollipops and a few cookies but they still stuck around. A few faces lit up at the possibility of shining my shoes when the shoe box was removed from the back of the van.

The mechanic returned, riding behind our original wheeler dealer on his motorbike. He did have an honest face, but I had my guard up. I didn’t trust anyone in this moment. He started to look at the van, testing the spark plugs, cleaning them with sandpaper, looking at the distributor as I watched over his shoulder like a hawk. He asked me to start the van many times, the last of which the van wasn’t starting at all. What had he done!?

This was about 2 hours into the whole ordeal. I convinced myself that he had done all of this on purpose and was going to rip us off. He was saying he needed a different tool and his brother was going to bring it to him. All I was thinking was he’s seeing dollar signs. HIs friend who brought him was trying his best to speak english which was even more annoying; you could tell he had a vocabulary solely for ripping off americans at the border. In fact while we were pulled over one of the guys saw an american car and shouted to the police,

“American! American Car!”

Everyone went running to their posts, I felt like a blind man playing poker.

The mechanic tried to explain to me that it was the electrics that were the problem, from what I understood the distributor wasn’t getting enough power or something. Being the stubborn, know it all that I am I brought out my voltage tester. Tested the distributor. It had juice. I showed him and he tried to explain something else I didn’t understand. I went to a spanish school, but they don’t teach mechanical language there. I was certain he was ripping us off.

I talked to Shona, really what were we supposed to do. It was baking hot, we were at the border, stuck. We tried phoning the family we stayed with but everyone was at work and no one could help us. So I started packing up the van, basically giving in to the next step, whatever that was going to be. A truck pulled up, it was the older brother of our mechanic. He came up to the engine with what looked like a screwdriver with two wires attached to it. There was a crowd of 5 people looking at the engine while he worked. They got me to try and start the van about 5 times, no go.

“One more time” they said.

I clicked the key and the engine started. It was probably the most beautiful sound I’d heard. Not only did it start, but it was sounding brand new. I turned red. The mechanic gave me a smirk and I truly felt stupid. Now came the money part...

Of course, Mr. Motorcycle was the first to talk. He said $100. I said $50. He said $70. I said no, we needed that money to cross the border. He said we would need more than that to cross the border. At the end of it all I gave them $50 and 220 Cordobas which ended up being around $70 dollars. We left and crossed the border, with a guiding hand from the brother of our hosts from the previous night. In this process we met a Canadian guy named Paul and the girl, Vanessa he was travelling with, she was from Oregon. I offered them a ride to Leon, Nicaragua and they accepted. It was really nice, because they had a great time keeping the girls amused in the back while we drove on the beautiful Nicaraguan road. As we crossed the usual border bridge (every border has a bridge) we were ready for the usual police/security/military checks. But this time it was different - very different. First of all we were required by law to purchase insurance for the van. As Mr Insurance Broker guy with his pad of documents started filling out the forms we had our hands once again in our wallets - how much are they going to skin us for this time? We were somewhat taken aback when he asked us for a whacking $12 for one month! And these guys were nice, in fact super nice. The 2 guards sitting in the shade of a tree popped their heads into the van and handed lollipops and cans of pop to the girls. Honesty and gifts from the border patrols? I like this place. Some friendly banter ensued the gist of which was about how many kids everyone had - or wanted. When I suggested i wanted more but that Shona perhaps had a different idea i got the prompt and jovial reply something along the lines of.....well who says the kids have to be hers too?.......We all had a good chuckle and when i asked if they’d like some water i was told that they only drink liquor. In the gifting spirit i asked Paul (our new canadian friend) to reach into the fridge. He produced the bottle of Mescal I had bought when we were in Mexico and we passed it through the open window. Muchos gracias. We continued on our way smiling. I liked it here, so did Shona. There really was something different about Nicaragua, I can’t say what really, but it felt comfortable and nice. It was green and happy.

I still wasn’t sure if the mechanic had made a problem then fixed it until we pulled in for Gas; about an hour outside of Leon. I turned off the car and went to go and buy a cold drink. While doing this, I accidently hit the alarm button which normally wouldn’t be a problem; the alarm stopped working in Mexico. But now it was blaring throughout the gas station and I had to take a moment before realizing that it was our alarm. I shut it off and smiled. The last time the alarm was working we didn’t have any problems with the van. Since it stopped, we’d had difficulties. The electrics. It was the electrics. To think I was upset about a mechanical job where I had 5 skilled people looking at my car on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, in 35 degree heat, all for $70. In Canada it would have cost me $600, at least. Lesson learned. And if you ever read this, thank you for your help, I’m sorry that I judged. I’ll let Shona tell the rest later...

El Amatillo. No Problemo.

2008-12-08T12:08:00.001-07:00

December 5th

El Amatillo. We’ve made it through the most notorious border crossing in Central America unscathed. In fact, not only did we make it across; it was the quickest border crossing yet. Without the help of the “guides” we were told would be necessary. That’s not to say it was smooth sailing, but it wasn’t as horrible as we thought. Here’s what happened.

We left our Auto Hotel at 6am, not certain yet if we were spending another night in El Salvador. It all depended on time. About 1 hour into the drive I felt confident that we would be in Honduras or maybe even Nicaragua by nightfall. The roads were really well maintained and I could keep a comfortable speed of about 80km’s the whole way. That coupled with the lack of tumulos (speedbumps) made for a quite enjoyable ride through El Salvador. I wished we had more time and money, there was a few places we definitely could have stopped, most of which were lined with beautiful beaches. It was about 11:30am when we began the approach to the infamous crossing. Tension was high, I was prepared though and had to nearly run down many of the helpers selling there wares as we neared the crossing. Originally we had decided to find one and get help, though that plan changed as we went along. We could do it ourselves.

First stop, El Salvadorian side to cancel our temporary vehicle permit. I thought this a bit silly considering we were only in the country for 24 hours, but there are many things I find silly about these border crossings. So we cancelled our permits, paid the $12 exit tax ($3 for each passport) and headed further into the maze of trucks, paperwork and hombres nearly jumping in our car wanting to help. Next stop a bridge, of course a bridge there is always a bridge. At this bridge we were stopped by a very unofficial looking man with a pistol. Though he was armed I still didn’t think it was the real deal and wasn’t ready to give up my passport. He didn’t really like this and got his back up with me. I told him in Spanish that I would accompany him and he led me into the office and then left. I should mention that the van was parked very badly, blocking half of the bridge and giant Semi’s behind us honking their horns. I brought Eir with me into the first office and for the rest of my border experience. It’s easier to negotiate with a baby in your arms.

Here he needed all the vehicle papers, and he began to very slowly fill out the Honduras ones. All the while Shona is still in the van blocking traffic. This took about 20 minutes and I’ve learned from this process that you can’t beat a smile in any business. Especially when you show interest in other peoples lives. I started some small talk with him in Espanol and when he was finished with the papers asked where the next step was. He thought it over for a moment and then decided to take me there.

2nd Stop. Random office that I definitely would not have found without his help. Here we waited for about 10 minutes, no idea what for, but he handed the original forms to me with some sort of receipt and asked for $11. Then we walked to another building where he left me, saying that he had to go back to work. I thanked him, though in secret I believed that these papers were a scam. I waited for 2 seconds in line before someone behind me told me I was in the wrong place. They told me in spanish that I needed to go to the bank first to pay for the permit. I refuted this fact for a while, but then finally gave in when others joined into the conversation. I feel bad for not believing people, but you’ve got to careful. I went to the bank across the street and was told I would need photocopies of a document and $33 to proceed. I went and got photocopies and went back to the bank. No, I needed the currency to be in Honduras currency. Back outside to find a money exchanger. Found one, got money changed and went back into the bank. Okay, now I needed to go back to the other side and give all these documents to Migracion.

First window. I hand him all the papers and he takes them away without saying anything. I wait for a while and then finally get told that I need to proceed to the window at the end. I wait there for a little while and then a woman tells me I need my original drivers license and registration (I gave her copies). I go back to the van, drop off my passport and get originals. Then I’m told that I need more photocopies of certain documents. I went to the photocopy place, got the copies and back to the window. She needs to see my original passport again. Back to the van, get the passport bring it to her. More copies. These ones of the stamp in the passport. Then she comes and checks over the van, we go back to the office and she gives me our papers. Yes, we’re done. No, I need to make copies of the papers to give to the guards at the other end of the border. Finally, the last step. All of which could be taken care of very easily if they would just put a photocopier in the immigration office. Jeez.

We made it out onto the highway and I was very happy. People were getting hungry and we needed to take a break. We weren’t going to make it to Nicaragua tonight, so we looked in one of our books “99 Days to Panama” to find out where they stayed. A little family farm just under an hour to the border. Perfect. That was the plan. Only the plan was foiled when the van started acting up. Doing the same thing it did in San Marcos a month earlier. Most likely the timing, with all the big changes in altitudes we were experiencing. No sweat, we’ll make it to the farm and I’ll do my best to adjust the timing there. Sweat. The van stalls and won’t start, just on the outskirts of town. Immediately there is a crowd of people around us poking curious heads in the windows asking if we need help. I go to the back and feel the engine. It’s really hot. This van needs a break. While I’m chatting to everyone around the van Shona and the girls have been invited into the front gate of the house we’re parked in front of. There is other kids there and Freja is already riding in one of thier toy cars. I go over and chat for a little while and within 20 minutes we’re parked in their yard, eating a gigantic meal of Frijoles, Camarones, Tortillas and rice. Freja’s playing, Eir is playing and Dora is getting a well needed rest from the heat. And now, I write from the yard where we have Dora set up. Belly full after a good conversation with the Grandmother of the house and the promise of coffee tomorrow for our journey.

Not only that but her husbands brother works at the border we’re going to in Nicaragua. I talked to him on the phone and he said he’d give us a hand tomorrow in our crossing. I personally think it was Dora’s plan all along. Buenos Noche Amigos.

I "Auto" not tell you about this hotel...

2008-12-08T12:06:00.000-07:00

I write from El Salvador in what they call an Auto Hotel. No internet here so this will have to wait and get uploaded later. I just couldn’t resist writing while it’s all fresh in my mind.

“What’s an Auto Hotel?” You say.

Well, let me explain a few fun facts about this little phenomenon in Central America.

Though it sounds like something from the movie “Cars”, I can assure you it’s much different. The Auto Hotel is maybe not really a story for kids, which is why I find it amusing that we’re watching cartoons in one right now. It’s a hotel which caters to the hourly patrons, complete with a garage to hide your car so that no one knows you’re here. You pull in, shut the garage door and go into your attached room. There is a box in the room where you put your money -the cost depends on how long you plan on visiting- a hand takes your money and leaves your change, a towel and the remote control. You can also buy all sorts of things from this mysterious stranger, breakfast, coffee, beer and others I’ll leave to your imagination. I’ll assure you they aren’t balloons though.

We saw this particular one from the highway about an hour after crossing the Guatemalan border. Though it may sound seedy, it’s quite functional for us at the moment. It’s secure, comfortable and cheap. I’m assuming the armed guard doesn’t see many kids around here, he was a little surprised when our entourage pulled in. Originally we only asked to camp in the secure lot, but when we found out it was only $19 for a room went for that option. The room is nice, shower, T.V., a little patio and Dora fits just perfectly in the little garage. There is a toilet paper dispenser right above the bed that Eir has been having fun with too. The most important thing is that we feel safe here, anyone who visits is not likely to be seen.

We got on the road at 6:30am and after a quick stop for gas were on the same highway we had witnessed the armed robbery on a couple weeks before. Flory (the director of the school) had arranged for a police escort to follow us through the more dangerous parts of the drive, but we never did end up meeting them on the road. Needless to say we didn’t have any problems, drove through some pretty parts of Guatemala and saw another active Volcano spitting up smoke and ash into the sky. This one was way bigger than the first and we actually had a camera this time. Pictures to come. The roads were surprisingly good, not nearly as many Tumulos or Topes as Mexico and we made good time. It was about 12:30pm when we arrived at the border of El Salvador to began the long, tedious process of border crossing. If there is one good reason for flying it’s not having to deal with this process. First we had to stop on the Guatemalan side, cancelled our vehicle permit and went to immigration to tell them we were leaving. This was relatively painless, no major hassles, they checked our passports in the computer and we were on our way. We changed our Quetzales with one of many money changers around and got a surprisingly good rate. 10 Q for a dollar, not bad considering most of the places in Xela were about 7. On we drove into El Salvador.

First stop was with an immigration officer in front of the bridge. He checked over our passports and the vehicle permit and pointed us in the right direction for the next few steps. He was speaking really fast and we didn’t really get much information, but we went on anyways. We saw two Ontario license plates parked that gave us a glimmer of hope, we weren’t the only ones. A couple little boys started swarming around the van asking if we needed help in Spanish, we told them no but they insisted on “guarding” our van while we were inside. Okay, no harm in that We went into one of the building and started waiting in line. This took about 30 minutes only to find out that we needed to go to another office for our vehicle permit. I was having flashbacks of the Mexican Border already. Okay, so we went into another office and began waiting in line again. The girls were getting restless at this point and I went back to the van to give them some food and a juice box each. It was at this point that the crowds came. Everyone wanted to see the little blue eyed girls in the funny looking van. The two boys who were “guarding” our car were the first and then came the rest. The little guys were desperately asking about the few hats I had hanging up and I decided that they could have one each. They were very grateful, though persisted in asking for more stuff as time went on. The girls were in love with Eir and Freja and get picking them up and commenting on their “Azul” eyes. After about 2 hours we went back inside to see what Shona was up to. She was nearly done, filling in the forms of all the things we had in our van. This was a true test of her Spanish, and I was quite proud. We couldn’t explain the breadmaker very well and I think it made it on the list as a toaster. Oh well. He came out, checked out the van and we were basically on our way, one more stop at immigration to check our passports. No problem, we hit the road.

Well hit the road for 2 minutes, until we met up with our first “Checkpoint”. He looked over our papers and then told us we’d need to pay $5 american for tax. I think it was a scam, I tried to explain that everything should be free and he was having none of it. I didn’t want to argue, made sure he gave me a receipt and gave him the $5. Now we’re off.

So we made it 5 minutes and then got stopped by a police checkpoint, he waved us over and wanted to see our papers. He asked a few questions and said we were good to go. We then asked him where a secure place to camp was and he told us to come this way. We’re basically at a crossroads for the coast road through El Salvador, just five kilometres from a small place called Los Cabanos. We’re going to drive to San Miguel tomorrow and prepare mentally for what is supposed to be the worst border crossing in Central America, El Amatillo. That will put us in Honduras for a quick jaunt and then Nicaragua from there. That’s all for me, back to my Corona delivered from that mysterious hand in the box. Early to rise tomorrow.

Hope: In A Coffee Bean

2008-12-01T11:27:00.006-07:00

The gods work in mysterious ways and my coffee prayers were answered ten fold. Our family visited a local coffee finca over the weekend and not only were they growing only organic coffee, it is also a community co-operative with a very interesting and heart wrenching tale of it's conception. I'll give you a summary of the historia (story) that was shared with us over a few beers on Saturday night. For those of you unaware, coffee definitely has a bloody past and this story is just one of many that have happened and continue to happen all over the planet.

Nueva Alianza sits on 650 Acres of mountainous land in the heart of Guatemala. It's a beautiful, but harsh landscape which begins with the long and bumpy road up to the community. We had a mini-bus drop us off at the start of the steep part of the road and the rest of the drive was in the back of our police escort truck. It was and probably will be the only time I was happy to be in the back of a police car. I was holding onto Freja tight the whole way as the road winded through banana and coffee trees, past little shacks with clothes hanging in the morning sun to dry. After about 20 minutes we arrived at the community of Nueva Alianza and unpacked our gear. The Eco-Hotel that we all stayed in had a beautiful sweeping view of the valley below, a view that was limited to the past owner of the finca as this was his old house that we were sleeping in. A giant mansion compared to the rest of the tiny abodes scattered around the hillsides, which is a good point to start from in the story of Nueva Alianza.

The community was made up of about 40 working families. We were told that women and children regularly carried up to 100 pounds of coffee up and down the narrow winding paths, while the men and older boys carried 200 pounds. Shattered were my illusions of the donkey and smiling man that accompany Nescafe's clever marketing. The smiles were there, but hiding behind the sweat on their brows and strain on there faces. Everything was relatively good for the people of Nueva, they were getting wages, they were working hard and content with their dueno (owner). It was after his death that the plantation started to fall apart.

One of the owners sons took over the plantation after his death, but didn't share the same love as his father. He had other parcels of land that took up more of his time. The farm went into default in 1998 and the workers were not paid for their work for a period 18 months. The owner knew that they really had no power. Under Guatemalan law, if they left voluntarily would not see any of their accumulated wages. So they persisted working the farm with no wages, surviving mostly by gathering wild plants for food. It was exhausting both physically and emotionally and some of the 40 families left to find work in the city. The remaining workers organized and sued the owner for their wages time and time again receiving little of what was owed. Eventually, the new owner declared bankruptcy blaming the declining cost of coffee in the national markets and owing by law, little if nothing to the workers.

The farm no longer operating, every family was forced of the land on which they lived for 3 generations. Through a series of discussions with the bankers, labor unions, and NGOs, they organized once more under Guatemalan labor laws and decided in secret to take back the farm at midnight on a December evening. The bankrupt owner caught wind of this, having gone to the farm earlier that morning and taking all of the equipment worth anything substantial, but it was still seen as a minor victory for the Campesinos (locals) that night. The next few weeks were spent under the threats of private security firms with automatic weapons hired by the previous owner's family. These hired guns were notorious for hostile takeovers, usually ending up in the deaths of some -if not all- the workers. The story had gained some attention and the families on the farm were spared this fate, although they kept 10 guards at the gate at all times, not allowing any strangers entrance to the land for months.

On condition with the bank for inhabiting and working the land, the workers were required to pay for $1.9 million quetzals ($250k) for the land. After the air of hostility settled, the workers applied and received a development loan from the sole governmental organization setup after the peace accords to help indigenous groups and begin buying back the farm for themselves and future generations. A victory in a country that usually doesn't favour the community organized resistances that they had staged. The old owners house was turned into an Eco-Hotel, realizing that tourism would be a good way to bring in capital and educate people to their plight and that of others. Over three years later, the farm was finally back in action producing equal the previous amount. The first step in this process included slaves of work to get the plants producing again, having been left dormant for 6 years. This however only produced the raw product, selling pennies in comparison to proceeded beans. Purchases of new and fixing of old machinery followed, all due to the former owners theft or lack of maintenance, and its a process that continues today with the help of numerous local and international NGOs.

Today, Nueva Alianza has many projects on the go and many more planned for the future. They realized that they could use the natural springs throughout the land to purify and bottle water for their community. It has now turned into a supply for not only Nueva Alianza, but many of the neighboring communities as well, including Xela, selling for 12Q ($1.75) a 5-gallon jug. They have a working Bio-Diesel plant, with plans to use only non-food producing plants grown on their land instead of relying on the cooking oil from nearby restaurants who -realizing the capitalist opportunity- have begun charging exhorbanent rates for their waste. They also grow macadamia nuts, harvested and processed year-round. All of the power for the finca is generated on site with a micro-hydroelectric system catching energy from a nearby waterfall. The families installed a solar water heating system, which should be operational soon. A school for children in the community was created and a satellite for Internet access installed. Politically, Nueva Alianza is run by a democratically elected board of directors. All major decisions go to a vote before the families and a women's co-operative operates as well, teaching women's empowerment and sustainable commerce to nearby communities. Did I mention, all of the coffee is grown organically? Several organic techniques are used in the process, including the method for keeping pests away by making a paste from chili peppers and spraying it on plants in the nursery. Organic fertilizer is also used, created from the leftover macadamia nut shells, fermented and mixed with nutrient rich dirt in the area.

It may sound like a dream, but it's not. Nueva Alianza is a working reality in the midst of the Guatemala jungle highlands. I personally didn't want to leave, but they are limited by the terms of the loan to 40 families, 30 of which stuck to their machetes and sticks and fought for the land that they deserved, the land they worked with no pay for 18 months, the land that was their home.

I was inspired by this story. It shows that anything is possible if you really want to make a dream a reality. I will take this knowledge and passion with me to Nicaragua where I see possibilities opening for us. If 40 families with nothing can organize and make it happen, we can too. All of us. Take the power back.

To learn more about Nueva Alianza, check out the website here: http://www.comunidadnuevaalianza.org.

But even better than that would be to go and visit it for yourself.

Erupting Volcanoes and Armed Robberies...

2008-11-24T11:33:00.003-07:00

What a day yesterday.

At our Friday dinner with La Escuela it was decided that we would take a trip to the beach on Sunday. So the bus came round to everyones houses at around 7am and we were off to a little private beach resort where the director of the school Flory knew the owner. First stop just outside of town we stopped for a cup of coffee to help with the waking process. Everyone was still feeling a bit out of sorts from our post dinner birthday celebration for one of the students. But that's another story.

So we've begun the descent from 3000 Meters in Xela down to the coast where a beautiful day awaits us, filled with sunshine, swimming and some breakfast. We're about 45 minutes into the trip when we pull around a corner to two big surprises...

"Look! Look! The volcano is erupting!" shouted one of the passengers.

I was one of the people in the van looking out the opposite window at a man in a red bandana with a shotgun pointing at the car stopped, going the other direction. At first I thought it was the police and then soon realized that this was definitely not some police checkpoint. The volcano could wait.

One man was standing in front of the car wearing what looked like a bandana around his face, but upon further inspection was just his T-Shirt. The other bandido was at the car with a giant pistol shoved in the window of the passenger side. None of the people in our van who were watching the robbery on the left wanted to say anything, and the others were too busy watching the plumes of smoke erupt from the mountain on our right. We were waved through by the shirtless man with one hand while he steadied the shotgun in his other. We continued through the crime scene and as we passed the robbers ran off into the jungle with their loot. When we had gotten a safe distance away, our driver stopped the van infront of a little fruit market. Those who didn't see the bandits were now well aware of what had happened while they had eyes fixed on the active volcano. We were all a little shook up and hesitant to get out of the car to snap some photos of the smoke rising up from the gray mountain.

After pictures were taken, we all got back into the van and swapped stories of what we had just witnessed, all in the space of 5 minutes. Some people don't see either of those things in their entire lives and here we saw it all in what seemed like as long as a commercial break. Wow.

The rest of the drive was without incident and we had let it slip to the back of our minds while we spend the day swimming in the ocean, playing football with a coconut and eating fresh fish and chicken. When we all got back in the van, the conversations returned to the armed, masked men we witnessed at 7:30 that morning. We were all well aware of the fact that we would be travelling through the same pass, though this time it would be dark and we would be far more susceptible to an attack. Flory, the director of the school had phone to report the incident though, and when she did asked for the police to follow us back to Xela. We pulled up to the designated meeting point and the cops waved us through and then tailed us the whole way, switching cars three times along the route. It was actually executed fairly well as one car would flash its lights, the other would pick up where they left off. We arrived safely back into Xela with white knuckles slowly returning to their original colour and stories we all couldn't wait to share with friends around the world.

So that was our Sunday in GUatemala, a little un-nerving considering it's the same road we'll be leaving on in a week. But, don't worry I know we'll be fine. I was extremely impressed with how well the whole situation was handled by our driver and the Flory, so we're in good hands. I just wish we had a faster car. Ha.

More later...

I'm angry at the Auto Manufacturers Proposed Bailout...

2008-11-19T21:50:00.005-07:00

This is taken from a note I wrote on Facebook, there was a bit of dialogue after I posted the note which I included to explain myself and where I stand. I know it's a bit off topic but in my mind a very important topic that deserves some attention

Read this Article, then read this Diatribe....

So let me get this straight. Companies that crushed (literally) the electric car, continued to make Hummers, SUV's and other gas guzzling, inefficient status symbols are asking the government for $25 Billion of tax payers money because they are "Struggling Automakers". It's hard for me to swallow that the CEO's of these companies are really "struggling". Let's take a look at the CEO's of the companies that are pushing the proposed bail-out shall we..

Richard Wagner Jr. CEO of General Motors

Robert Nardelli CEO of Chrysler Corp.

Alan Mulally CEO of Ford

This is sick.

When was the last time you saw someone with these kind of salaries suffering? How do they have any idea what suffering is?

But they're crying out to for cash, saying that the whole American economy will fall if they aren't handed 25 billion dollars to save their collective asses. They have auto dealers wearing cowboy hats as their pawns, begging on television for the government to save them and their families. Meanwhile they are eating caviar and drinking 30 year old scotch at the golf course, while real people working to build their cars suffer to put food on the table and hold on to a very unstable job.

These are the same companies that have crushed public electric transportation, basically created suburbia in an effort to promote buying cars, and literally crushed completely functional electric car prototypes. Now they are crying at the back door for money to fix their bad decisions, taking away money from public programs, the possibility of public health care, making the poor and middle class families pay for their idiocy.

It's disgusting.

You know what I say. Let them die. Let them suffer. The workers will rise up from the ashes and move forward with new ideas about transportation and work. Leave the big CEO dinosaurs to go extinct. In the new world we create, we won't need 'em.

With all change, there will be struggle, but I promise you we will be far better off. There are options available, contrary to what the media would like you to believe. Maybe an economic catastrophe within the Auto Sector is exactly the fire we need underneath our butt's to change into more sustainable and environmentally friendly ways of travel. What if all the workers from these dinosaur Car Companies started working here..

http://www.zenncars.com/

Just a thought...
___________________

at 5:11pm don't you drive around the country in an old van? surely your emissions are less than environmentally friendly?

Matty Powell wrote
at 10:48pm

Point taken. I agree it's important to realize one's own contributions to the degradation of the environment. But, my decision to drive the country in an old van was in fact made as a positive step to decrease my environmental footprint. I left a house I didn't own; one filled with Petro-Chemical products and fueled by Natural Gas 7- 8 months out of the year in a VW Van. This van was manufactured in a country that's "share of electricity from renewable energy has increased from 6.3 percent in 2000 to over 14 percent in 2007. More than 9 billion euros (US$11.31 billion) was invested in new renewable energy installations in Germany in 2006. Some 240,000 people in Germany were employed in the renewable energy sector in 2006, especially in small and medium sized companies. Over half of these jobs are attributed to the Renewable Energy Sources Act." My van is also my house -retrofitted with a solar panel for our power needs- and we have and will be living in it while I volunteer building sustainable houses made from recycled materials in Nicaragua, after we're done Spanish School in Guatemala. This in my mind is a less impact than planes and hotels. No one is perfect, but you do the best you can with what your given. I don't think that U.S. Auto Manufacturers have done the best they can with what they've been given; many opportunities to move in a direction that is more "green" and sustainable. So, in my mind the bailout is unjust, unfair and a waste of taxpayers money that could go into better, greener projects for future generations. Not only that but it will set a precedent for all failing corporations to follow suite; a move that in my opinion will slowly lead to nationalization of many major institutions (Banks, Auto Manufacturers, Etc..). Basically to me, it's like feeding your gambling addicted grandmother with quarters instead of a phone number for help.

The Politics of a Decent Cup of Coffee...

2008-11-17T10:29:00.006-07:00

Coffee. It's been a part of my morning ritual for quite some time now, usually the first task of the day. In every city I've lived finding the good coffee shop nearby is on of the first steps to integration. It was an easy pick in Saskatoon, The Roastery is some what of a Saskatoon institution. A place where you meet friends, swap stories of the night before and spend time making music and making the world a better place through conversation. My favourite blend of coffee at the Roastery was the Guatemalan Fair Trade Organic. It would brighten my day when I looked at the specials board to be greeted by it's name. So needless to say, I was pretty excited to visit the birthplace of such a fine bean. In my naivety I thought that great coffee would be as easy to find in Guatemala as snow in Saskatchewan in the winter. Boy, was I wrong.

After a few days being around Guatemala you soon realize that the majority of what's being served as coffee is in fact the instant variety. The majority of which is Nescafe. Why at the heart of Coffee Country would they drink such an imbominaton as instant coffee. Surely they must realize how much it pales in comparison to the real thing, freshly roasted, ground and served steaming hot. Why you could probably drive for twenty minutes and be in the very field that The Roastery gets it's coffee beans from. Why in every restaurant and household would they resort to supporting a multinational company like Nestle to fulfill their coffee needs. I'll tell you why.

It's too expensive for Guatemalans to drink their own coffee. What they grow is for export only, solely to supply the Starbucks & Roasteries of the world. The sweat and hard labour of these people is getting flown away to find markets elsewhere, profits they're not likely to see. Sure there are a few places around town that serve up a great cup of coffee, but they are hard to find. Not like walking down the streets of Vancouver or Seattle where Starbucks surround you like a bad dream. I just want everyone to think about that a little when they have their cup of morning coffee. I'm not saying to feel guilty, not at all. Just make intelligent and compassionate consumer desicions and take a moment with your coffee in the morning and think of the many people who worked long and hard to get it into your cup on that frosty morning. The people I'm sharing the roads and streets with today, the people that are teaching me spanish and the people that make Freja and Eir smile and giggle daily. Just think of them.

Other than my coffee diatribe we had a lovely weekend. I played my little show on Friday to a very receptive audience mad up of mostly people from La Escuela. Went to the market on Saturday and got some grocery shopping done. It's quite the affair to go into the Mercado with two babies in tow. I'll get some photo's next time we go so you can see the craziness in action. It's crazy, but there is some sort of unsaid way about the Chaos. It's almost as if because no one is following the rules it works. Like if you're driving and try and follow the rules you're more likely to get into an accident than if you give into the anarchy of it all. Sunday we went to a beautiful hotspring called "Fuentes Georgina" you can see pictures here.

That's it, time to make some lunch for these girls and go to school where there is a decent cup of coffee. Adios Mi Amigos.

Matty P.

High in Xela, Eating Chocolate and Playing Music...

2008-11-13T20:51:00.005-07:00

Xela, Guatemala sits at an altitude of 2,333 Meters above sea level. According to the professionals "Acute mountain sickness is common at any altitude above 2,500 Meters", while other professionals say "It's common to get tipsy from two or three beers". Which is perfect because then I have two excuses for telling the crowd at my show last night that I "want" two daughters. I was introducing my song, Freja Grace and thought I'd be clever and try and speak a little Spanish. Great idea after a week of Spanish school. What I intended to say was "Yo Tengo Dos Hijas", translated as "I have two daughters". Instead I mumbled "Yo Quiero dos Hijas", and after a few snickers and giggles I was very glad that there was still 3 more weeks of school left. Until then I'll leave my witty stage banter to Hola, Xela.

Anyways it was a nice little French restaurant that I played in aptly titled "Royal Paris". The woman that we're staying with knew the guy who played there frequently and basically set the gig up, his name was Fernando. He played a set, I played a set, then he went on once more and I closed off with a couple tunes. It was fun. I got some dinner and a couple beers for playing, and the small crowd made up of students from School, our home stay family and a couple tables out for dinner all seemed to enjoy themselves and left smiling. I'm not sure if the smiles were for my broken Spanish or the music but either way I'll take it. Fernando could find his way around the classical, nylon string guitar effortlessly and played a wide variety of Latin American folk songs along with a few of his own compositions. It was a pleasure to watch, I'll definitely go back and he mentioned maybe doing it again in a week or so.

Today was a lazy day, Shona got off to school in the morning and the girls and I watched some Spanish cartoons and ate breakfast. Watching Curious George -or should I say Jorge el Curiouso- is actually helping with my Spanish if you can believe it. Eir had a little nap and I dug my way out of the mountain of Vocabulary and Irregular verb homework. Shona got back from school and I headed out the door, in what has kind of become the tag team ritual. There was a trip with the school in the afternoon, and luckily my teacher let me take the hour off to tag along. It was a bus tour around Xela, with a tour guide telling stories about the history of all the buildings we passed. Xela has an odd gothic feel to it, not common for Central American countries. From what I understand, when the Spanish left, the Germans came in and had a major impact on the Baroque style architecture here. The tour finished off with a trip to a local Chocolate shop where we were shown first hand the Cacao process from start to finish. Another one of those little things in life rarely thought about; I know I never thought of Mayans when I bit into a Mars bar. I didn't realize that the conception of all chocolate basically originated from Central America, primarily in Guatemala and Mexico. I guess it's a very picky plant that knows where it likes to fruit. More than I can say for myself. Ha.

Anyways during the demonstrations we were given a cup of hot chocolate right from the source. I have no problems with saying that it was and probably always will be the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted. No seriously, it was mind bogglingly good. After the Chocolatier we got back on the bus and I headed back for the rest of my lesson. It was a hard return to conjugating irregular verbs after being in chocolate heaven but I managed.

So tomorrow evening I have another show at this really great place run by an Ex-Pat from Spain and his Australian girlfriend. The whole school is coming to the restaurant for their Friday dinner so I'll at least have a few English speakers in the crowd to save more embarrassment. Hopefully we'll get some photos and post them up for all to see.

Off to bed, Buenos Noche...

Rememberance, Football and Music

2008-11-11T19:42:00.002-07:00

November 11th, Remembrance Day

Well, I believe this is my first Remembrance Day that I didn’t see a poppy. Nor did I hear the poem Flanders Fields, no cadets in uniform and no moment of silence. No, this day was spent in Xela, Guatemala, a country with it’s own history of wars; from ancient wars in which the K’iche met Spanish Conquistadors with a spirited resistance to their empirical aspirations to the more recent civil wars of the 60’s and ’70’s. It’s been a rocky road for Guatemala and I’m sure that more of the people we’re living amongst now have been directly (or continue to be) directly affected by war. It doesn’t stop the toothy grins as I stroll down the street with Eir in the sling and Freja holding my free hand. I would hazard a guess I may be the only man they’ve ever seen wearing a bastardized version of their beautiful, hand woven baby wraps. The Mayan culture is definitely making a hasty comeback in Guatemala; markets are filled with women in traditional dress selling traditional food and clothes. It’s nice to see. We’re definitely outsiders here and the looks and stares the girls get are quite amusing. It’s difficult to get by anyone without them touching the girls on the head or squeezing their cheeks. It’s flattering I must admit, and definitely serves as a good icebreaker for sometimes-difficult conversation. The markets on the streets are filled with all sorts of vendors, from knock-off shoes to roasted corn and fruit salad in plastic bags. Speaking of plastic bags, most of the shops where you get pop or juice here will empty your drink into a tiny plastic bag with a straw, to ensure they get their bottle return money. I must admit I felt a little strange walking down the street with a plastic bag full of pop. You get used to it though. School is going great, albeit difficult. After 5 hours of Spanish your brain kind of turns to mush and I have trouble speaking to anyone after school for at least an hour. The first weekend in Xela was good, we had dinner with all the students and teachers on Friday at a restaurant downtown and a few of us went out to have some beers after. I came home, helped Shona put the girls to bed and went to meet up with them. On Saturday night I had the pleasure of attending a Xela football (soccer) match at the town stadium. There was bunch of students, along with the director Flory that went to the game. It was great. We got there really early and 3 of us decided to go and have a bite to eat and a beer. We ended up at a restaurant called “Super Chivos” which was in fact the clubhouse for the Xela team, “The Super Chivos”. Anthony (Another Student) and I had bought some cheap jerseys and we were greeted with applause as the “Gringos” came in with jerseys on. One of the other fans actually bought us beer and we happily ate and chatted away until realizing that the game was starting in 5 minutes. We booked it back to the stadium and made it just in time for the fanfare of fireworks, cheering and music from the many impromptu bands around the stadium seats. It was a great game, not only for the play but also for the enthusiasm of the fans, even after the 2 - 2 tie. Most of us went out for a beer after the game and I actually ended up playing at a little bar not that far from the stadium. It was fun, and after finally getting off stage it was pretty much time to go home.

I’ve got two more gigs this week, one at a Bar/Restaurant called Royal Paris and the other at a really cool bar called Ojala. The woman that we’re staying with Barbara knows a lot of people around Xela and within 2 phone calls -both with me speaking broken English- I had 2 gigs. Not bad for only a week I guess.

Anyways, Me Gusta Xela and though school is difficult, it’s very interesting learning a new language and culture. My Spanish is getting better day by day and Freja has been speaking a little here and there, even without our encouragement. Pretty neat.

Now that we have Internet it should be a little easier to write in the blog and upload some pictures, so stay tuned. Adios, mi amigos.

A long winded tale, with a long windy road.

2008-11-07T11:36:00.000-07:00

November 6th.

We’ve made it to Guatemala, finally. We arrived on November 4th at around 6pm, and went straight to the school “La Democracia” to get set up with our family and have a well-needed rest. If you’re the perceptive type, you may be wondering why we arrived in Guatemala on November 4th when the last message was on November 2nd saying goodbye to Mexico. Well let me explain.

We left Arrigia fairly early in the morning, not having to repack the van was quite helpful in speeding up the morning rituals, and after a couple showers (cold) and dressing the babies we were off. We stopped to get gas, a couple tacos from a roadside stand and we hit the road towards Tapachula, where we planned to do our border crossing into Guatemala. It was a fairly simple drive, some good roads, and some bad, still a lot of speed bumps. As we were approaching Tapachula, around 70km outside of the town, about 5 guys wearing very unofficial badges waved us down. In broken English they tried to explain that we needed to take one of them to the border in Guatemala to help with our crossing. We were warned about these helpers in a few of our books, which said to pick one and let them guide you through the border crossing process. We had planned on picking one, but there was know way we were going to cram him into the van for 70km, when we were quite certain there would be plenty more at the border. We weren’t disappointed, well actually we were but more on that in a bit.

So we pull into Tapachula where we had decided to do a few last minute things before crossing into Guatemala. We needed to stop at a bank to take out some cash for the border crossing and hopefully get some Quetzales (Guatemalan currency). We got lost in the city, and decided to just get some money when we entered Guatemala. Our first bad idea. So we filled up with gas and headed toward the small border town of Talisman, about 11km’s away. As we approached the border there were more kids with badges telling us to stop, we had learned our lesson and kept on driving. Finally one guy approached the van and looked fairly honest, so I told him to hop on the back and we’d go to the border. We had our helper, sort of. Anyways, we pulled up to the border and the van was surrounded by at least 15 guys, all trying to help in some way. There were guys trying to sell us Quetzales, guys trying to tell us where to go, it was extremely confusing. Especially between the broken English and Spanish. I finally got out of the van and went to the “Aduana” (immigration) with our passports, the temporary vehicle permit and our Mexican tourist visas. First stop was to hand in our tourist visas and get the Mexican Exit stamp. The guy doing that job only took my passport and visa and gave the passport a stamp and on I went. Now to try and find where I could cancel our vehicle permit, necessary to do if you want to enter Mexico with any vehicle ever again. No one seemed to know what to do with it. Until finally I talked to one lady and she said that I needed to back into town and find the Banjercito to cancel it. She explained the directions in Spanish and drew me a very basic map. Keep track everyone, this is map #1. So after shooing everyone away from the van we headed back to Tapachula to find the Banjercito. Within 30 minutes we were lost and stopped at a little convenience store to get our bearing and ask for more directions. The girls were also starving at this point; stupid us spent all our Pesos because we thought we wouldn’t need them. We scrounged up enough for a bag of chips and Shona went to talk to one of the cab drivers for directions. This is where we secured Map # 2.

After about 10 minutes of map drawing and conversation we were on our way once again. Six sets of lights, a right turn at an Italian coffee house, two more sets of lights and we were there. After about the 7th set of lights and no coffee house, we were lost in the midst of downtown Tapachula again. It was getting later in the afternoon, the sun was beating down and I was nearing the end of my Mexican driving rope. We took a few more turns and found a bank by chance, yes. Parking in the lot of an OXXO (Mexican equivalent of 7 Eleven, I got out of the van, ran into the OXXO tried to buy something to validate my parking in their lot, they didn’t take cards and I said I’d go to the bank and come back. With my parking space justified with a valid excuse, I ran across the busy narrow street to Bank # 1. Now I’ve spent many an hour of my life waiting in line-ups, but upon entering this bank I soon realized what it was like for my Mum to camp overnight for Rod Stewart tickets in the 80’s. Wow. My patience lasted all of 10 minutes without moving and I was running across the street to another bank. This one was a little more promising, no line-ups, friendly looking tellers; we may make it to Guatemala after all. I waited my turn, got called up to the teller and proudly held my vehicle import papers aloft. This gesture was greeted by one similar to that which I’m certain future inhabitants of this planet will have when they come across an automatic paper towel dispenser, I hope for their sake they don’t try and change the roll as it may decrease evolution 10 fold. Anyways I was in the wrong bank, it was specifically a Banjercito that needed to cancel these papers. Great. By this point it was 2:30pm and looking very doubtful that we would make it across the border. But for some reason, out of some deep-seated need for more humiliation and frustration, I asked for Map #3.

“Derecho, Derecho, Derecho!” Said the woman behind the counter while pointing her hand right. Now the funny thing about Spanish is that “Derecho” not only means straight, but right as well. I got from the hand gestures that she meant straight and off we went again, to first try and back out of our space onto a busy street, and then find this Banjercito that seemed more elusive than the Quetzal itself. We went straight, and straight and straight and we were about to throw in the towel when alas on our right a sign... BANJERCITO! Our hearts leapt with joy, our tired eyes awoke and we jumped out of the van, unpacked the girls and started to lock up when were approached by a security guard...

“Ustedes Usar Cajero Automatico?”

No we need to go into the bank and cancel this, and once again I held the stupid piece of paper up. The guard then proceeded to tell us that this branch closes at 3:00pm; it was now about 5 minutes after three. Here’s where I lost the plot. One more time, is there anywhere to get rid of this damn piece of paper. He gave us directions to one more bank and we started driving to it when we passed a Comfort Inn. It was about 3 minutes away from the bank; if I kept driving I don’t necessarily think that I would be here to write this. We pulled a U-Turn and checked in for the night. Internet, Pizza for dinner, a good rest followed by a continental breakfast then the Bank in the morning. If all went according to planned we could be in Xela by noon.

Which brings me to Map # 4. I left Shona and Eir at breakfast and took Freja for a walk to the Banjercito to finally cancel this stupid vehicle permit. I walked into the bank, there was no line-up and I went straight to the teller and handed over the blue piece of paper that has been the thorn in our side for the last 24 hours. You can imagine how much my heart sank when the lady behind the till said I needed to go to the Aduana Banjercito, just outside of town. Seriously, I think we had wasted a tank of gas by this point, both Shona and I had increased the amount of grey hairs on our head by 100% and we’d spent the last evening sleeping in a hotel across from the wrong bank. So Map #4 comes out. I brought the offending hand drawn illustration of Tapachula back to Shona and we packed up the van in a hurry, anticipating that we’d get lost again and headed off. I dropped the keys of and for one more clarification asked the hotel desk clerk where the Banjercito was. AHA! A real map with a highlighted route was handed to me. Yes! There was no way to fail this time. Full of confidence and zeal we headed towards the outskirts of town. A few wrong turns, and a couple close calls and we made it. It pains me to mention that we passed it the day before on our way into Tapachula. But water under the bridge I guess, or the many bridges that were scribbled onto scrap pieces of paper for us.

So it was one quick swoop, the permit was canceled, the agent took the sticker off our car and we were free from Mexico’s grasp. Almost. We hightailed it to a bank to change some money and headed for the border once again. Not ready to deal with the onslaught of “Helpers” that were about to bombard our vehicle; I took the first guy that approached the vehicle. Mistake. He jumped on the back and we were ready to cross the border.

First stop, getting our passports stamped. He whisked me out of the van and went to immigration. 30 Quetzales and we were all stamped and allowed to be in Guatemala for 90 days. Next stop, getting photocopies of our documents. I tried to tell him that I already had photocopies but he insisted to go over to this little shop and get it done. That is when alarm bells started going off. By this point I had an entourage of at least 9 guys following me around and I must say it was a little worrying. One person was trying to sell me Quetzales (the local currency), one was just asking for money and the others were just watching and occasionally laughing. My guard was up at this point and I just wanted to our documents back, get back to the van and continue the process. Our “Helper” told me that we would need to give him 650 Quetzales to import the vehicle in Guatemala. I insisted on going up to the office with him and getting receipts for all transactions. You could tell he was getting a little upset about this and would leave and come back 5 or 6 times while we were waiting in line to get our car fumigated, every time with a different friend wearing a fake uniform and insisting that we pay the 650 Quetzales. We had looked in a few of our books and in all of them it said that we should only have to pay 40 Quetzales for importing the vehicle. Then we saw a sign, which read something like... “All Immigration processes are free, don’t promote corruption”. Then I started to get really pissed off. It’s extremely hot in the van, the girls are sitting in a pool of sweat, we’re all hungry and this guy is trying to rip me off. I got out of the car myself, paid for the fumigation and went to the tourist information followed by 2 different helpers. The first guy had obviously realized I was pissed and pawned his friend off on me. Got the receipt to pay the bank for our permit, went to the bank and paid for the permit, all the while still being followed around. I gave the two guys 5 Quetzales each ($0.15) and basically told them to get lost. The one whose friend was initially helping us was demanding the $5 originally promised to his buddy. I basically told him to screw off and he listened.

We got our permit, sticker on the window and drove into Guatemala. It was about 2:30pm by this point and I was a little worried about driving at night. First stop we made was a gas station, filled up and went off. Now, if I thought Mexican roads were bad, I was wrong. Not only were there tons of potholes strewn about the road, the highway from the border to Xela must climb at least 4000 meters into the mountains. When I say climb I mean climb. We were basically stuck in 1st gear the whole way. I stalled once and got stuck in a pothole right after a blind corner. Scary. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the pleasure of rolling backwards in a stalled VW down a blind corner with no guardrails and a 2500m-drop, but I wouldn’t recommend it. We got the van going and continued on. The first big town we would drive through was called San Marcos. It was here that we would notice something funny with the van. Upon coming to our first stop in the city, the van stalled. And every subsequent time we would rev low or I would be in Neutral the van would stall. Basically it was acting as if it was out of gas. Bad news. That usually means you got some bad gas in their, and their isn’t much unleaded gas in Guatemala. So we deduced that it must of been the gas we got near the Guatemalan border. Not only that but we were lost in San Marcos, having missed a turn for Xela somewhere along the way. I unknowingly made a wrong turn down a one-way street and we found ourselves, stalled parked halfway into the road on a one-way street. Yikes. We asked someone where the road to Xela was and got haphazard directions. A friendly passerby helped us back out of the one way into a busy intersection and after a few stalls, we were going blindly down a narrow street, trying desperately to keep the van revved high so we wouldn’t stall. Not an easy task when there are pedestrians jumping in front of you and cars blaring horns everywhere down a street obviously built for horses and pedestrians and not VW vans. So we went with our gut instincts and finally found the road to Xela. It was getting late and I definitely didn’t want to get stuck on these roads at night. More crazy roads, an hour and a half later and we made it to our home for a month. We were warmly greeted by our host at the school Flory, had some food and were taken to meet our host family. We are staying with a lovely Woman named Barbera, her mother and her daughter. We have 2 rooms at our disposal and the house is great. The school is great, I am in fact writing this from the downstairs lobby of the school while Shona is in class number three. The way it’s going to work for us here is that Shona is in class from 8am - 1pm and I watch the girls. My classes are from 2pm - 7pm and then I go home for dinner. So far so good. It’s nice to be able to spend some time with the girls and this is day #3 of Spanish school for both of us. It’s tough, but really nice to get the brain going. I should be off; the girls are terrorizing the place and are most likely needing a nap. We should be getting wireless in our home stay house in the next few days, so keeping in contact should be easier for the month or so that we’re here.

I finished this blog a day after I started it, so as it stands, it’s now November 7th. hope you’re all well, wherever you are. Much love from all of us.

The Last Few Days, without Internet.

2008-11-03T17:02:00.002-07:00

October 31st, 2008

Well, I’m not going to be able to upload this blog until we find an internet connection, but that doesn’t mean I can’t write it. We had a lovely morning in Melaque, though we probably could have used the extra hours we spent chatting to our wonderful neighbours on the road. It was nice to get a chance to talk to some fellow Canadians, and they were generous enough to give us a bit of hose to help with our water siphoning. So if you are reading this guys, thanks a lot. We had breakfast at the place we were recommended for dinner, Senor Froy’s. The food was fantastic and the owner was great, his wife played with Eir the whole time we were at the restaurant, both enjoying each others company equally I think. Heuvos Rancheros, Pancakes and a bacon omelette, all very tasty and I would highly recommend a visit if you ever find yourself nearby. So we got a late start to our day of driving, which would wind us up doing a little Mexican night driving which does not come highly recommended. These roads were intense, if you wanted proof all you needed to do was look at all the skid marks in the pavement. Some of which were coming from the poor Californian ahead of us desperately trying to keep his trailer from pushing him down the hill into the semi ahead. So yes, Dora was shredding it up in the mountain roads of Mexico, Shona was looking green in the backseat and Freja was up front enjoying all the donkeys and cows we passed by. There were moments of sheer beauty, but most of those were accompanied by sheer cliffs with no guard rails on the side. Mum, if you’re reading, stop shaking, it’s okay. This stretch of highway also did not have a variety of options for gas and we found ourselves cutting it close again, but thankfully 50 kilometers out of our destination there was a PEMEX (Mexican Gas Company) oasis and we all breathed a sigh of relief. We filled up here, the gas station attendant saw Eir in the back and immediately started taking her out of her car seat to show her off to her coworker at the other pump. They giggled and played while Mum went inside to get a couple snacks to tide us over until dinner. We haven’t been eating that well on the road, as our time is limited with not being able to drive at night and all. So chips and junk food for lunch and usually a good dinner. We could probably make it work a bit better if we had a little more time, but we’re cutting it real close to get to Guatemala in time for Spanish school. Anyway, I digress. So, our destination for last evening was a little beachside town called Playa Azul. We pulled into the town after dark, which always makes it that much more difficult to find our preferred camping destination, even more so when we’re still not 100% comfortable with our Spanish. After a few directions and a few missed turns we made it to the Hotel Playa Azul, which according to our guidebook had a few camping spots with hookups out back. It did. Nothing to write home about though, a caged in parking lot, some bathrooms I would try to avoid and a few palm trees. It would do. Famished after our diet of mostly chips and raisins we headed to the restaurant to get some food. We screwed up fairly bad in Sayulita and didn’t take out enough cash to last the night. The last of it was spent on toll roads and the half tank of emergency gas. Luckily the hotel would take a credit card for the room, which was a life saver. What we didn’t realize is that they couldn’t for our meal. We didn’t realize this until we’d eaten our meal (which consisted of 3 sub-par hamburgers), and wanted to pay for it. Oops. After a search around town for a bank and some sort of Spanglish communication we worked out that we would go to a bank and pay in the morning. Off to bed we went and woke up the next morning, got packed up and headed for a bank. The nearest bank was quite a distance and by the time we got there and back (about 2 hours), we were hungry again and had breakfast. Yay, another late start.

Anyway we ate and hit the road, which was much easier to drive than the last stretch so we made fairly good time. We arrived at our campground just outside Aculpoco at sunset and got settled in. The owner brought us some food from the restaurant and filled up the little mini-pool so Freja and Eir could have a splash around. The food was great, the Ocean is right at our doorstep and we even got to eat fresh coconut that the guard cut open for us. A little pricey, but $47 for a place to stay with our own private wading pool and 3 meals isn’t that bad I guess. So it’s here that I leave you about 8km's outside of the first major tourist town in Mexico. The ocean is really rough here and the waves are almost shaking the van. Very cool. Buenos Noche mi amigo’s.

November 1st and 2nd. Los Dias de la Mortes

No internet again today. We did try to find a cafe this morning but being a national holiday, everything was closed. It’s The Day of The Dead today. For those of you unfamiliar, it’s a celebration with origins in the Mayan Belief that on or near this day, the dead could walk with the living. So Mexicans have been adorning there friends and families tombs with all sorts of decorations, though most have a specific orange flower, I’m not sure what kind it is or the meaning behind it, but if it’s not on graves it’s piled high on vehicles or being sold at the many roadside stands. Some go party at the graves, pouring tequila to their fallen comrades and some go and weep. It’s quite the deal. Anyway, back to how we got where we are right now, which is a hotel room in the area of Mexico called Chiapas.

We awoke in our campground just outside Aculpoco to find that our garbage had again been ravaged by dogs. Every night that we leave our garbage hanging from the van, you can guarantee that it will be strewn all our the campsite by morning. So we got up, cleaned up the rogue animals handiwork and did our daily pack the van routine and headed off to find some groceries. We bypassed Aculpoco, not really being interested in putting up with the tourist traffic which we were told one could get stuck in for 3 hours. Not exactly what we were looking for in 30 Degree heat. I’m not going to tell you where we ended up getting our groceries, I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Just know that I didn’t for a moment feel proud of it. They did have a good organics selection though, which seems to be difficult to find in these parts. Mostly because they’re all sent up to Canada and The States. So packed up with groceries we set off for Puerto Escondido which translates as “The Hidden Port”. It was during this drive I should have learned the lesson that could have saved us today, and that lesson is don’t trust a CAA/AAA Map. According to our AAA map of Mexico, the area we were travelling through was...

Not Safe
Very Difficult to Get Unleaded Gas In.

As for the not safe part, it seemed like everyone in town as we drove through would honk, wave or give us the peace sign, so it seemed pretty friendly and safe to me. And there was a gas station every half an hour, so I began to feel a bit neurotic filling up every time I saw the PEMEX logo. The gas operators would look at me funny to as I say fill the tank in horrible Spanish only to put 3 litres in it. Oh well I should have learned my lesson about that stupid map, but we didn’t. More on that later.

It was a long hot drive though. Lots of “Topes” which I believe the English translation is something along the lines of “Annoying Giant Bumps that Seem to Pop Out of Nowhere While You’re Travelling at 80 km’s an Hour and Your Wife is In the Back Yelling at You for Hitting Them When She Doesn’t Have Her Seatbelt on Like You Could Somehow Have Magic, Psychic Powers and See The Invisible Humps and Warn Her So That She Could Somehow Brace Herself”. Though I might be a little off. This drive also had many animals on the road, as it was a farming and cattle grazing area. Kind of surreal to see cattle grazing next to palm trees for a prairie boy. We had our first full on military check, in which I had to get out and show them around the van. In all honesty though I think the guy just wanted to show off his english skills and his buddy was more interested in how much I paid for my tattoo. He was floored when I said $80 because I think he thought that I meant 80 Pesos which would be $8. After our little stop, we soldiered on (Pun Intended) and beside one more embarrassing stall as I was reaching out to give change to some girls collecting for their school, it was good. We did have to do a bit of night driving though, which was rewarded in the end by the hospitality and friendliness of fellow Canadians, Paul & Kim who have just taken over the trailer park in Puerto Escondido. We felt welcome from the moment we pulled in until leaving the next morning. We spent the night chatting away, swapping stories and drinking the Mescal that I got pressured into buying at a local shop. A really beautiful night. We made fairly good time getting ready in the morning and after an unsuccessful search for some internet connections we were on our way towards the Guatemala border. This road had less topes, but definitely more drama. Everything was going fairly smooth until we hit the city of Juchitan. It was here that we started falling apart at 4pm. We took a turn and then thought that we were wrong so went back into town to go the other direction. That direction took us down some very narrow, one way city streets that looked like an earthquake had hit and after a while of that, turned around again to try another direction By this time I was getting antsy as I did not want to drive at night again. So tempers flared, directions were lost and it wasn’t until 5pm that we realized the first road we took was actually the right one, had we only waited another 5kms.

It got worse. The sun went down quick and we found ourselves doing the one thing all the guidebooks we have agree on and that is, Never Drive at Night. I now understand why. We came to a crossroads and took an exit that was very badly lit and hard to understand. It was here that I started stressing out. Pitch Black, Winding Mountain Road in the narrowest bit of Mexico that is notorious for a constant 50/mph wind. Yikes. After passing a fallen tree, getting passed by double trailered Semi’s and winding through a barricade on a bridge under repair I noticed that our destination wasn’t on one of the signs I passed. I immediately called out the names to my co-pilot in the back and we discovered that we on the wrong road. So we stopped at the next town and asked the gas station attendant, well more like told him, “We’re Lost”.

It was then we figured out that we should have taken the other exit some 30 kms back. Now I know to some of you, 30 km isn’t that far. But when you are driving a VW bus with two screaming babies, wind gusts, blowing you off the road and donkeys, cows and horses on the side of the road, 30 km is far. Very far. So we turned around at around 7:30pm and headed back to our missed exit. It was another treacherous drive, but we finally made it. Exhausted, Hungry and really needing a beer. We decided instead of pulling everything out of the van we would get a cheap motel room and get a real early start tomorrow for the border. $30 for the room, and $15 for food and beer. Which leads me to right now. Food is finished, there is one more sip of beer left and everyone is sleeping. So that’s where I’m going to go. But before I do, I’d like to say, “Muchos Gracious Mexico, Me Gusta Tu!”

Until next time....

For Photos Visit..

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=68317&l=c66c6&id=516192577

Sayulita, San Patricio Melaque and Slow Progress

2008-10-29T22:08:00.005-06:00

It was time to say adios to our little haven in Sayulita. We spent a beautiful few days there. I really really loved it there and felt for the first time on this trip that i was on holiday. A wonderful mix of locals and surfers and cute little streets lined with interesting shops set in paradise. Inevitably though when somewhere like this becomes "trendy" the prices go up. So it was a bit of a shock when we went out for dinner to a little place on the beach the first night to find them charging around $20 American for a main course!

We aimed to get to Playa Azul by sunset today. Our lay over has meant we are cutting it close to get to Guatamala in time for school starting on 3rd Nov. On the map Playa Azul is around 600 kms from Saylita so we thought a big day of driving, somewhere around the 7 or 8 hour mark and we'd get there. Ha ha. That was until we drove along the coastal 200 road!

First we had to deal with getting through Puerta Vallarta. A giant tourist town, complete with giant cruise ships docked in the harbour and a crazy beachfront promenade. Of course it was here that Matty stalled the engine as we crested a narrow hill - and Dora decided she didn't want to go again! Nightmare. Horns furiously peeping at us, Spanish expletives thrown our way, and 2 hot and restless screaming babies in the back....it wasn't pretty. But the old solar boost trick worked again and we were back on our way in just a few minutes. We think its just the intense heat that's upsetting Dora.
So it took us about an hour to get from one side of PV to the other and as we climbed the hill on the way out of tourist central the stark contrasts were once again evident. We passed the swanky cliff top hotels and condos and luxury holiday homes with high end cars parked outside and once again within a few hundred meters we passed the locals' little village nestled on the edge of the city. Their one room brick homes, laundry draped outside in the baking sun, people wandering along the street having just gone to collect water, dogs barking, a few chicken scratching in the dirt, a horse tethered by the side of the shacks.....do the fly/sail in tourists even know this side of Mexico exists? Do they really want to come to Mexico to experience Mexico? Or do they just want to come to the sun, get somewhing of a wishy washy idea in their head about what Mexico and her people must be like based on what they see in downtown anywhere tourist city? A sanitised view of a wonderfully rich culture being eroded by just that. I suppose its the same everywhere. I've been to enough foreign cultures to know that a lot of holiday makers don't care what used to be standing on the site of their hotel on the beach or the restaurant that'll make them bacon and eggs for breakfast everyday, which ever country they are visiting.
Well enough of that, it upsets me. So the road down the west coast of Mexico - the 200 - isn't exactly going to make it easy for us to zip on down to Guatamala. It took us around 5 1/2 hrs to get to Malaque, which is about 5 hours north of where we were aiming for! Although we did lose an hour to a time zone change. (We're now on Central time.) Long and (very) winding, and up and down hills and full of topes (potholes). Instead of fixing them they tend to just put up some signs to warn you of their existence, although we did see some guys working on fixing a few along our way today.
Malaque is a cute little seaside town and once again we are parked up looking right out onto the ocean. The waves here are pretty thunderous when they break on the beach. Matty went for a quick dip to cool off his sunburned shoulders when we arrived and on his return said there'd been a few hairy moments when he'd been taken by surprise by their ferocity.
Freja and Eir made their way around the campsite introducing themselves. We're surrounded on all sides by fellow Canadians. Alberta, BC and Quebecers are all here. It seems that a fair amount of Canada does migrate south for the winter.
We went for a walk to find some food but most places were closed already. The ones by the water front are as usual over priced so instead we found a family run taco place where we all wolfed down chicken tacos utnil we were stuffed. We suddenly realised we hadn't eaten since breakfast time. Delicious - her homemade chili and tomatina sauces were amazing. 8 Tacos and a giant glass of coconut water between the four of us for $58 pesos......less than $6 American, now that's more like it!
Well Playa Azul is the aim for tomorrow......after a breakfast of bacon and eggs at Mr Tony's?.....haha

Mazatlan to Sayulita with Corona Cans and Sun that Heats Ya.

2008-10-28T21:03:00.003-06:00

Well, where to begin. How about with the sound of the ocean, crashing waves into the beach of Sayulita as I sit in a lawn chair looking at stars. I must admit it feels kind of weird to be typing in a computer, surrounded by so much natural beauty. I think it would be more suited to write a letter on a palm leave and put it in a bottle of Corona for someone to find. But the times have sure changed haven't they. I was talking to an older fellow and he was reminiscing of the last time he did this trip and had to take a bag of mail to the Swiss Embassy to get in touch with his relatives. NOw we turn on Skype and can have a video chat, imagine that. Anyways, I believe we left you in San Carlos...

We left San Carlos in the early morning, said goodbye to the lovely man who ran the place. But before doing so rolled him a couple drum tobacco smokes (he loved them). It was here that I truly wished that my spanish was better because I'm sure that he had some incredible stories to tell and we weren't communicating much past simple pleasantries. Which is okay, but I would have liked a little more I think. Wow the waves are sounding pretty massive, I can't see past the computer screen glow. Anyways, we left our little campground by the beach, the place was called Mr. Moro's I think -I'll get back to you on that one- and headed down the road to Mazatlan. The drives are a little more difficult than we had anticipated, it's really hot. Dora really feels the heat being air cooled and all, so we've had to take it a bit easier than we'd like. Not to mention the girls in a pool of their own sweat in the backseat after a while. So after a few military and agricultural checkpoints and a tidy sum in toll roads we made it to Mazatlan. I guess this was our first real touristy destination and you could tell. Lots of Americans have bought property here and the beachfront is starting to be lined with retirement condo's. The R.V. park we stayed at was really nice and after getting unpacked we all had a dip in the pool to cool off. Freja finally got over her fear of swimming and was zipping along in her little floating tire thing. We ate some noodles around the computer, Skyping family and generally enjoying ourselves. It was another early morning and we got up, packed up the van again and headed further south. The heat was almost unbearable at times, but we managed. The coastal drive was nothing short of gorgeous and took us through some very rural areas, tobacco plantations, palm trees and lots of old men in Sombrero's sitting in the sunshine smoking cigarettes. We passed the tropic of cancer just north of Mazatlan and you can definitely see and smell the difference.

It's amazing to see such a simpler way of life as we drive through these areas. Little noys herding cattle on horseback, Dad's with their kids on motorbikes, roadside stands selling all sorts of fruit, jams and hot sauce. It's truly inspiring to see. You forget about most of the rest of the world that lives like this from the desk at your computer. A lot of the villages we've passed through probably don't even have internet access. It's so easy to forget. Anyways, we landed in Sayulita in the early evening, found our campground and went into the office to register.

The man who runs the show here is very kind and gentle. He saw the Saskatchewan license plates and immediately regalled us with a story of his time in Saskatchewan in the 1950's, how he slept in the old train station in Dundurn while visiting a friends parents. He is originally from Germany but lived in Canada for 10 years, before settling in Mexico City. I would highly recomennd a visit here if you ever find yourself in Sayulita. Upon our arrival and seeing our home for the night we immediately decided to stay for two. It's a well needed break from driving for Dora and the girls. Our campsite is right on the beach and for $20 a night, we couldn't argue not to.

So today we walked through town, Freja and Eir are a hit and everywhere we go people stop us on the street to speak to them. It's amazing to watch how they react to another language and how open they are to people picking them up and playing. Freja is quick to show off her recently found treasures, whether they be stones, shells or sticks, and her audience is always receptive and exhuberant. We spent some time in the water, I finally got Freja over her fear of the ocean and she giggled away as the waves would come crashing into us. Eir was having a ball sitting on the beach getting gently swept away into the water. We think our little stone was probably enjoying the sand getting washed into her outh more though. Shona and I are not really wanting to leave this little paradise as we've finally had a chance to relax. I got a lot of sun today and am being tender with my back as I sit in this chair, joined by SHona whos going through the days photos.

SO we're off tomorrow with hopes of making it to Playa Azul, a small fishing village about 600km south of here. Then we're off to Aculpoco and then through Chiapas to the border of Guatemala. So I'm off to play some guitar and perhaps take an evening stroll through the town and find other musicians to jam with, I hear drums in the distance through the hypnotic sounds of the beautifully warm ocean. I hope you are all well and happy wherever you are. Buenos Noche.

In My Defense...

2008-10-25T11:07:00.002-06:00

It seems as though Shona has taken to using this informative and entertaining record of our Central American journey as a public forum to discuss my sometimes forgetful nature. Yes, it's true I tend to be forgetful, we all know that. But if we're going to disuss these things in the blog I'd like to take this short moment (I'll write more when we have some time) to make you all aware of Shona's navigational skills. Since losing the GPS (no I didn't forget it somewhere, they don't have Mexico on file) the tension in the van has gotten heated at times. If I left all directions to her, some of you may be happy because we'd be back in Canada. There you go I said it. I still love her but if she's going to be tongue in cheek about my forgetfulness then I assume it's safe to do the same?

Ha. Anyways we're leaving Santa Carlos, Mexico today and heading down the coast. It's a lot longer than we thought and we're a little worried about time, but hopefull we'll make it. Anyways I have to deal with a baby that just fell of the backseat (again). More later...

October 22nd - Crossing the border into Mexico

2008-10-25T09:07:00.001-06:00

I cried twice today. The first when I cracked the top of my head on the corner of the van door – so hard I though that I’d shed blood. The second when we discovered that what we thought was the only secure campground in Golfo de Santa Clara, Mexico was a members only establishment. We weren’t members, it was dark and we were miles from anywhere.

We woke up in Yuma, AZ to a hot, dry, windy desert day. After a quick pack up we all jumped in the pool to cool off (at 9am) and, if I’m being honest, to give our urchin daughters a well needed bath.

In the time it took Matty to re – wire the solar panel (his dogged determination finally paid off and we now have a fully functioning solar power supply) our swimming costumes and towels were dry in the sun. That being said we had planned a much earlier “Border Crossing Day” start. It was around then the first tears were shed.

So finally around mid day we were off and rolling. But this is The Powells, so there are always last minute bits and bobs to be done. A trip to the store to get coffee/water mugs, a few groceries and a solar shower (that wasn’t on the list but Matty can never resist a gadget or gismo) and then we really were heading to the border……well via a gas station and an ATM……ok now to the border.

Just as an aside – and also just to wind up my husband a little I should tell you why we had to go buy the new coffee mugs. He lost both the ones we left Saskatoon with. The first one didn’t even make it out of Canada. Actually there’s a list of lost property.
The gas cap fell by the wayside at our very first stop for gas. Remember the one when we ran out of gas? Well in all the excitement of the incident the gas cap got left on the pump.
His wallet, lost in Banff after a night of drinking and merriment with his brother at friend’s wedding ( thankfully returned by the wonderfully honest Corine, that could have been a real headache.)
The $100 bill, hidden in a cigarette packet for safe keeping, forgotten about and tossed in the bin. This ended in a cross San Diego dash when he realized. Luckily the bag of rubbish was still in the bin and we retrieved the money.
Freja’s play tent, strategically placed on the roof of the van overnight and forgotten when taking off to the garage in haste. It probably ended up in someone’s front yard – or front windscreen on the highway. That outing was also the last known observation of travel mug no2.
So not only did we cast off all our possessions before leaving, but it appears that Matty has developed quite the taste for liberating our possessions and continues to do so.

Anyway, I digress. We arrived at San Luis, AZ around 2.15pm. What an experience. We had no clue what to do or where to go other than what basic info we had in our literature.
It went something like this…..

Parked the van. We knew we had to get a travel visa for ourselves and a temporary vehicle import permit for the van. The first office we get to is for neither and the man kindly directs us to where we need to go. Go to the Banjercito, lady speaks some English, tells us to go next door to Immigration and get our travel permits first then come back to do the van stuff. Next door we go, fill in some forms while Freja continually slides across the floor and Eir is trying to grab anything she can get her hands on. Matty’s doing most of the Spanish speaking (haha – we knew diddly). So when we eventually fill out the forms and I point out that I’m British they want to keep my passport while we have to go back to the Banjercito to pay for the visas…hmmm…off we go. Get back and she tells us her system is crashed we have to walk to the next bank up the street and pay there (its blistering hot by the way). So off we go. Can’t find it. Back to ask where it is, walk back the way we came, it was where we had just been but 2 floors up. Pay our money. Back to Immigration. Stamp. Sign. Muchos gracias, adios. Then back to the Banjercito to do the van stuff. Sign here. Stamp. Sticker. Muchos gracias. Adios.Then I have to go back to the American port of entry to give them back the green piece of paper they put in my passport when I arrived. Wonderfully friendly guys they were too. No seriously they were really super nice. Then back to Mexico, quick nappy change and off into the unkown. The unknown with very few road signs at that.

Wow! what a completely different world. In the space of a few hundred metres the contrasts were stark. Needless to say we got lost pretty quickly, and after a few heated exchanges and a few frantic map reading moments we eventually succumbed to the “OK lets just ask someone” philosophy. My turn this time. All I managed to communicate to the kids in the shop we stopped at was that I was lost and then pointing to where we wanted to go on a map. They tried to explain in Spanish but I had no clue, so he kindly drew me a sort of map. We weren’t far off, just a left turn instead of a right. The last glimpse of sunlight was just disappearing as we arrived at the beach town of Golfo de Santa Clara, and I mean literally a beach town. All the roads and everything round about are completely sand.

So as I mentioned earlier, we find the campground we are looking for but discover its members only, we aren’t members – and the folks weren’t very helpful to be honest. Even the American guy on his ATV cruising past us as we were scratching our heads gave us the ‘dirty hippy’ look and took off offering no advice. So now what? Tears round 2, the icing on a stressful day’s cake. Well to rub sand into the wound the van won’t start so Matty jumps it with the solar battery. Back the way we came and as we turn the corner there’s a few old RVs parked in a somewhat fenced area with a light. So after another Spanish exchange with a local (we’ve no idea what he said other than suggest we might get stuck in the sand) we decide just to park up. We’re still a little wound up as some hooded guy and his dog wander up and ask us for $20 for our spot. Eh? We weren’t about to argue. So we gave him $9 and he left reasonably happy. So, after a dinner of a tin of cold past stars between the 4 of us its bedtime. The stars are phenomenal (the ones in the sky, not the cold pasta ones – they were average). The vans locked up and tonight we fall asleep to the sound of barking dogs, Spanish music and general merriment in the distance, and the dessert breeze gently blowing through the sand and the trees…..

The Mechanics of Ants and All You Can Eat Pancakes.

2008-10-20T23:06:00.003-06:00

Still in San Diego, awaiting a mechanic to give Dora a check-up before heading across the border into Mexico. We woke up Sunday morning at our campsite at the KOA to all you can eat pancake breakfast for $4. So we started the day by stuffing ourselves with pancakes, Freja was in heaven. We played in the playground for a while and then decided to head into San Diego on the bus, then trolley. The downtown mission was kind of a bust, most of the stuff was closed and we basically walked around for a bit, got a sub and headed back to the campsite just out of town. We did some laundry, bought a few beers and spent the night chatting to people on facebook, taking advantage of the Wi-FI access while we have it. I'm not sure how many campsites in Mexico and the rest of Central America will have internet, my guess is none. Our campsite was attacked by ants over the two days we were there, and the persistent buggers found their way into basically everything in the van. Kind of a nuisance, but I do stand back in amazement at the organizational skills of the ant colony. It's crazy. So I have to give them credit where credit is due. They found their way into a van inhabited by small children who have a tendency to leave crumbs everywhere, smart. There will be one happy queen of that colony, and organic treats at that.

Anyways, we got in touch with a mechanic this morning and he was too busy to see us today so we've scheduled an appointment early tomorrow morning. Don't worry, there is nothing wrong with Dora we just want to get an oil change and quick tune up before the next leg. The mechanic's name is Randy and supposedly one of the best Volkswagen guys in the San Diego area, so we're in good hands. Depending on how the check-up goes we might try and make it across the border tomorrow, but we'll see.

So now it's ten thirty at night and I just finished a little guitar playing, Shona is chatting with our neighbours over a fire and I'm sitting in the glow of the laptop enjoying a bottle of Guinness. We went to the park today, Freja quite enjoyed the fountains and was extremely upset that she couldn't go swimming in them. It was a very cool area, all of the cultural experiences wrapped up in one park. The Zoo, the Museum, the Science Centre and a little Spanish village filled with artists in open to the public studios making pottery, paintings and jewellry. There was some amazing pieces of art there, I couldn't help but wish we had more cash to pick some up. Ahh, the joys of travelling cheaply.

The trip is beginning to feel real now. I don't know if it's the palm trees, the fact that we're twelve miles from the border of Mexico or that we're past the two week mark, but it definitely has begun to feel like we're not coming home for a while. I had a realization that we are extremely far from anything we truly know and are going further still, it's exciting and scary all wrapped up in one. I think we're all a bit anxious about crossing the border, for various reasons. The language barrier is going to start and until we've spent a few days getting accustomed to not understanding everything that is being said around us it's going to be intimidating.

Anyways I'm going to join the conversation at the fire. More later...

Elephant Seals, Tire Squeals and Banana Peels...

2008-10-19T01:37:00.005-06:00

Phew. Where to begin. We woke up in San Fran yesterday to the sound of knocking at our hotel room door, those maid are always so eager to clean your room. I guess the majority of hotel guests do get out of bed before 9am, but hey we had a long days drive and were enjoying a little sleep-in. Anyways that was a good alarm, because our breakfast that came with the room was finished at 10am, and for the stupid amount of money we ended up paying for that room we were going to eat, and eat a lot. We rushed through our showers, got the girls dressed and headed down to gorge ourselves with eggs, sausage and pancakes. It was as much as we expected from a Holiday Inn Buffet, though it was food in our belly and after breakfast we headed out into San Fransisco. There was all sorts of different realities clashing on the streets, as you find in big cities. People driving Hummers by people begging for food kind of stuff, though there was definitely a cool vibe in the streets. We "had" to take the cable car down to the beach as we'd feel pretty stupid passing through without taking a ride in the infamous public transportation. Now I don't know how many of you watched "Full House" as kids, but I can assure you the cable car is not as footloose and fancy free as the intro to that beloved show may insinuate. I was being constantly reminded to not lean out of the cable car, which of course is most of the reason you go on these things. It was still pretty cool and Freja seemed to really dig being on the "train". I was quite impressed with the engineering of the whole system, so simple yet so useful in the hilly streets of San Fransisco. So after our ride down to the waterfront we sat and watched Freja build her sandcastles and I dipped my toes into the cold ocean water a bit. The funny thing about doing these kind of trips, is that until you get settled where you want to be for a while, it's almost as if you are a tourist on speed. Okay. Gotta do that. Gotta do this. Then drive. Then do this. It's fun in it's own sort of way I guess. So after another cable car ride with a much more pleasant driver we were back at the hotel to pack up Dora and start the next leg.

By this point it was pushing 5 o'clock and we knew we weren't going to get far, we set off anyways with no real destination but as far away as that expensive hotel as we could. Not again, my friends. We drove through the dark and Shona found an RV park in a place called Caramel. The park was called Carmel by the River. Secretly as I drove I was imagining chocolate covered palm trees and a river of caramel, but I kept those childish thoughts to myself. When we finally arrived at our camp for the night we very quickly realized that we were in Southern California. No not because of the weather of the famous people. Because an RV park can get away with charging $65 a night. Holy. We were too tired to argue, or find something else, so once again we paid the man and set up shop for the night. I passed out early with Freja and that was that.

The next morning we awoke to sunshine, had our breakfast and plotted out our days drive. We decided to go all the way to San Diego and see what happened from there. It was a long drive. The first portion of it was probably the steepest cliff drops I've ever driven on, not only that but the road was extremely windy. You can ask Shona about that, she was looking a little bit green after bravely trying to make sandwiches in the back. All that being said it was beautiful and I made sure that the line of cars behind me could appreciate the beauty as I was only going 30km/hour. He He.

So after that windy road, it opened out to more of a beach landscape and it was here that Shona said something along the lines of "Look, I can't tell if thats loads of driftwood or seals on the beach.". We would find out shortly that it was in fact seals, loads of juvenile male elephant seals. Freja was so excited when we got out of the car she couldn't stop saying "Robby Seals, Robby Seals!". Why Robby? Two cartoons that she loves both have seals named Robby. "Pingu" and "The Little Polar Bear". So we hung out there and watched the seals for a bit, it was pretty neat. I couldn't believe it but a lady standing next to me actually asked if seals hatched from eggs. I tried really hard not to laugh and explain to her that they are indeed mammals and there is only one mammal that hatches from an egg and it is definitely not a seal. It was amusing.

So after that it was a pretty steady drive, driving through some beautiful country just before Santa Barbara and then we hit Mailbu. We were trying to stick to the coast all the way to San Diego to avoid any L.A. Freeways, but our luck was foiled as the street was shut. So off to the freeway our handy little GPS detour function takes us and it is within 10 seconds of being on it that I feel my blood pressure rising. I've driven the 401 in Toronto many times, even a few in a '78 Volkswagen bus, but that didn't even compare to what I experienced tonight. I will do my best to avoid driving on that freeway ever again. It's like war out there. You have people passing you left and right, speeding by, riding your tail, it's insane. If I had to do that drive everyday I would probably go postal and I'm sure that some people have. We made it through safe and sound though and now I sit in an KOA kampground in San Diego, writing this blog. Everyone is sound asleep and I'm going to join them right now. We're most likely going to stay here until Monday, get Dora in for a oil change and checkup and then it's into Mexico. The trip feels real now. Buenos Noche. Goodnight.

The Banana Peel in the title has no relevance other than that Freja and Eir ate lots of Banana's today. So I guess that means it does have relevance, but I didn't include it in the blog. But I guess now I did, so nullify this whole end section. I need sleep.

Standing in the Shadows of Giants...

2008-10-17T02:43:00.002-06:00

I can understand how a man would want to cut it down. He wants to tame this giant in front of him, to assert his strength over 1000's of years of growth. To put his stamp on the earth and say I took down one of these trees. Or perhaps it was out of necessity, a growing population, a bourgeuois that needed the finest of woods for their furniture, their houses, their carts, they'd settle for nothing less than the wood from the trees that survived the ice age. But most likely someone looked at these awe inspiring and fabulous creations, pieces of nature that renew your faith and humble your being until all you can say is wow, maybe they look into these forests and can't see past the dollar signs. How? How is it possible someone could walk into these forests and not feel guilty with every chop or chainsaw? How could they not sit beneath the branches of these bohemoth green canopies and write songs and poetry, have picnics with their loved ones, or heaven forbid... just sit?

I suppose they have families to feed, loans to pay off and jobs to do. And who am I to judge really. I just know one thing, I walked into the Giant Redwood Forest today not knowing what to expect and I saw trees that were seedlings in the middle ages. I'll never be the same. Even now as I sit in the 11th floor of a Holiday Inn in San Francisco, I'm reminded that I would still be in the shadow of those California Giant Redwoods climbing over 300 feet into the sky. And you know what, they can grow back without us. Buildings can't. Mother nature, you amaze me.

After a long, long nights drive through winding roads, and passing trucks with bright lights and engine brakes, we all have metaphorical flowers in our hair. Eir is fighting sleep at 2am, Freja is passed out and my eyes are heavy. Tomorrow we set out to the streets in search of memories and music, oceans and golden gates...

Until next time...

For Photo's....

California Dreamin'....

2008-10-16T00:13:00.002-06:00

I'm sitting in my new office in the van. The more nights we pack up for an evening of sleeping in Dora, the better we get. This time their is definitely more room, so much so that I've managed to set the little table up and not bend my back in awkward positions in the top bunk, desperately trying not to wake up Freja with the blue glow of the computer screen. Now I sit with the passenger seat turned around, table in front of me and a beautiful solar panel charged battery, running the computer, external hard drive and charging the camera's batteries. Awesome. Not only that, but I get to hear and smell the Californian ocean crashing around to my left. The same ocean I watched the sunset on as we crossed the border of Oregon

We are in a RV park in Crescent City, California, just outside the border of Oregon. It was a beautiful drive along the 101, steep cliffs, sandy beaches and wonderful sunshine. Apart from the few minor breakdowns of babies in the back looking to stretch their legs we were just fine. Not only that but we made fairly good ground, now sitting only 350 miles from crossing that infamous golden gate bridge.

This is a short one, more later I promise. I just wanted to post a little before heading off to bed. Everyone else is sleeping, which means I probably should too. Don't want to be the odd man out tomorrow and try and sleep in. All is well, Dora is running fine, I topped her up with a little oil today and we're going to bring her in for a check up before we hit Mexico, just to be sure. One thing I forgot to mention is that along with the salty smell of the ocean, we have the smell of freshly baked bread filling the van right now as Shona is using the breadmaker for the first time since we left Saskatoon, You know what that means? Fresh bread and ocean views for breakfast tomorrow. MmmMmm... can't wait. Mas Manana (more tomorrow)...

Babies, Borders and Beautiful Ocean Views

2008-10-14T22:36:00.004-06:00

It's been a while since i've had a chance to put some thoughts and feelings down in black and white. I'm sitting downstairs as i like to call it, in Dora. My toes are wrapped in an extra blanket and the heater is on - its warmer than its been to date but still a tad chilly. Freja actually asked to go to bed tonight - she loves sleepng in "The Brown Van" as she calls it. As an avid Dora The Explorer fan, no amount of explanations will convince her that she is in fact driving along in Dora!
As we woke up in Olympia this morning - I'll admit i'm not a morning person and Matty bore the brunt of it before breakfast - the rain had stopped thankfully. Our motel breakfast left a lot to be desired but we filled up nonetheless and got packed up. Taking advantage of the bath and shower availability, we were all sprarkly clean and bright eyed and bushy tailed after a good nights sleep in our queen sized beds.
We hit the road and headed straight for the coast on the 101. It took a few u-turns, many detours, and a lot of telling Karen (our Australian tour guide GPS narrator) that she didn't have a f#&$^%& clue what she was talking about but we got the right route eventually. Karen has since been relieved of her position and Daniel (very British -must know what he's talking about) has replaced her, he's doing OK so far.
The road from Olympia to the Washington coast was quite a disappointment in that so much of it has been clearcut. Cancerous holes in the forest make for a very sad sight. Our eyes opened wide however when we saw the Astoria-Megler bridge across the Columbia River. It's the longest truss bridge in North America and links Washington State with Oregon. We stopped and had a picnic lunch just underneath it in Astoria, Oregon.
Then off again heading further south and excited to be seeing the Oregon coast so many people have told us about. I was driving, and after a few "what are you doing"?s and "where are you going?''s and "you're in the wrong gear!"s from my co pilot and navigator (i've only been driving 6 years more than him - what do i know?)we were putting along nicely meandering through the beautiful dense, vivid green trees, through quaint little immaculate seaside villages. There's a place actually called Seaside. The smell of sea and fresh green forest was intoxicating.
I had the huge realisation while driving along this route......WOW....we're actually doing this! This is real. We have friends and family all over the world doing what they are doing, living their lives, but this is my life, and i have my husband and kids with me in this van - our home - on this immense journey together. The realisation of what i was doing at that exact moment hit me square on in the heart actually and i felt it leap momentarily with excitement. Then my brain may have exploded a little as i tried to comprehend it all - will i ever?
And then we saw it! The most magnificent beach i think i have ever seen. From the top of our cliff vantage point, stretched out in front of us was a neverending coastline of beautiful calm blue sea, crisp white waves fawning onto a pristine golden sandy beach nestled at the bottom of an evergreen tree lined hillside, and the picture perfect arrangement of beach houses completed the perfect postcard scene. We stopped to breathe in the beauty - and had to try pretty hard to restrain an excited Freja from hopping off down the cliff face to build some huge sandcastles.
Then off again, we wanted to get as far as we could before the sun went down. Feeding 2 tired, hungry babies is tough at the best of times, but when they've been cooped up in a van most of the day and dinner is a la camping stove and you have to dig their bed out from under all your worldly possessions and do some nifty rearrangements in the dark..........daylight hours are precious. Not to mention the fact that the youngest one would gladly chow down on all the rocks from the carpark given half a chance under cover of dark......its most definitely a juggle. But when moments happen like the one this evening at the campsite when Freja picks up the American flag posted at the end of our campsite and yells ready set go and cheers with encouragement at Eir as she brings down the flag to start the race and Eir dances with joy....or to see both of them in hysterical laughter, rolling about hugging and kissing each other in the sleeping bags when getting ready for bed.....suddenly everything's OK and we're doing the right thing.
We're just south of Lincoln City, OR. We'll try for California tomorrow.

Bye, Bye Canada! Hello, Washington...

2008-10-13T23:59:00.010-06:00

I write sitting in a hotel room, in the state capitol of Washington, Olympia. We’ve begun the trek south and said goodbye to Canada today. Our time in Vancouver was great. the The weather has been great (no rain except today), our hosts were amazing (Thank you so much Terry, Lana and family) and we've gotten some very important things done. So I guess I’ll recap on the last few days as it’s been a while since we posted. I worked at the construction site on Thursday and Friday, it was a nice refreshing change to get up at the crack of dawn and head out to the job site. Terry refurbishes old apartment buildings and turns them into very beautiful new suites. I had the job of putting hinges on the cabinet doors and cleaning and pressure washing the back deck area. It was a wet and messy job, but a lot of fun as well. We took a short day on Friday and I helped Terry out with his new vinyl cutter and software in the afternoon. I did some pretty cool stuff for Dora which you can see in the new pictures. I thought I would regret the Bob Marley on the back window when we crossed the border today, but it wasn’t even brought up. I found an open mic in Port Coquitlam on Friday night and played three songs there. Everyone seemed to enjoy it and I managed to sell three c.d.'s which was a nice added bonus. It's a benefit for a local hospice (Crossroads) that they do every second friday, with all the proceeds going to them. Linda is the woman who runs it, supposedly it's been going on for ten years. After the early show Terry Jr. and I headed downtown to meet up with Kellen at the club he was doing visuals at. A cool little place on Cambie street called "Bar 340", we danced the night away and stayed a little too late, missing the last Skytrain and the last night bus. Whoops. Where we're staying is in a suburb called Delta and it's a fair distance from downtown. Never fear though, we saw a cab and hailed him down, he wanted $70 for the ride back to Surrey/Delta from downtown and we both laughed. We told him we'd give him $40 and he said no way. Then he drove off, only to come back around the block two seconds later and say "Cash first, $40". Yes, the world of bartering. Then Travis (Terry’s other son) came and picked us up from where the cab dropped us off. Thank you Travis, considering it was five in the morning.

I crashed out in preparation for the big celebration on Saturday. Though poor Terry Jr. had to get up at 7:30 and head off to work on 2 hours sleep. My youngest daughter Eir turned one year old on Saturday, October 11th and we had plans to go to the aquarium during the day, with dinner and cake that night (thank you again Terry, Lana and Family). So after some more bartering about getting me out of bed -Shona and the kids got the better deal on that trade- I got up, had a shower and we hit the road. Myself, Shona, Eir, Freja and Terry's daughter Courtney. With some help from the GPS we made it to the aquarium and went to stand in line with all the other tourists.

I walked into the aquarium and was immediately turned off as once of the major exhibits is sponsored by Weyerhauser. So the same company that's polluting much of the ocean with the chemicals used in it mills, is sponsoring exhibits in the aquarium. The same reason that Orca's and other whales are considered toxic waste when they wash up on shore is generously from the good of their hearts funding the aquariums exhibit. The irony was not lost on me. It's not all bad though, as they are taking some species near extinction and giving them a chance at life. I really don't know which moral ground to stand on, though the $7.50 hotdog I ate makes me lean in a certain direction. They also served fish & chips, which I found to be oddly amusing at an aquarium but Shona ordered them anyways and was extremely disappointed. I say if you're going to make fish and chips at an aquarium, they better be damn good. Anyways it was a good day and the kids had a lot of fun which is the important thing. My favourite exhibit was the archer fish, a fish that actually shoots insects off of branches by spitting water at them. It was crazy to watch. Check out Youtube for a video of it.

Saturday evening was spent in front of the computer with Terry, teaching him the ways of Adobe Illustrator for his new vinyl cutter. I actually got quite into the world of sticker making and have been offered a job in Vancouver if we head back this way. Sunday morning the boys went out to the Flea Market at the crack of dawn. There was lots of interesting stuff there, from Banjo’s to Binoculars to Batteries. I didn’t get anything except for flowers for Shona. We had breakfast and then headed back to help with the thanksgiving dinner preparations. Shona went off to Staples to photocopy our documents and I stayed at home with the girls. Dinner was amazing, Turkey, Ham, Mashed Potatoes, pretty much everything you could want from a thanksgiving meal, and of course the pumpkin pie to finish it off. After dinner I went out with Terry again to see my little brother spin some discs and everyone else stayed home and played poker. Shona I believe came in 2nd at the poker game, but I think she won and is hiding the money away. Ha.

And so today, we packed up the van and said a tearful goodbye to our most gracious and generous hosts, and headed toward the border. We had decided to make the crossing at The Peace Arch, just outside of White Rock. The line-up wasn’t too horrible, probably about 20 minutes until we were seen. I was really apprehensive about crossing the border as I’ve heard stories about cars being ripped to shreds and all those kinds of things. We had nothing to hide, but I figured with the stereotypical hippie van they would give us some hassle. Nope, it was fairly smooth. Shona had to do a little more paperwork because she’s a british citizen, but other than that we were sent on our way. There is a definite change when you enter the states. I can’t really put my finger on it, but it’s there. It was at the first speed posting that we realized that our van doesn’t have miles on the speedometer, only kilometers. So I’m basically driving on a guess amd occasionally checking the GPS, which does have miles.

We decided to aim for Olympia and spend the night here. We were planning on camping in the van, but the weather was awful and we thought it’d be best for the girls if we just rented a cheap motel room. Eir was getting restless and hungry in the backseat so we made a stop in Seattle at this giant mall, for food and buying diapers. It was a very posh mall (the baby change rooms had plasma screen T.V.’s playing cartoons), so we grabbed some chinese food, diapers and set off again. By the time we got to Olympia it was about 9:30 and my eyes were very heavy. A good nights rest tonight, a shower tomorrow and then we’re off again. We’re going to see the giant redwoods in Oregon and probably camp there for the night and then off to California. I heard there is a tree that you can drive your car through. Crazy. Anyways thanks again to Terry and Co. for the work, the fun and the conversation, it was a great visit and I’m sure we’ll see you again soon. Buenos Noche.

Patience with your hands at 10 and 2 o'clock...

2008-10-08T20:27:00.001-06:00

Patience. The first lesson in owning a VW Bus is patience. You learn this very quickly while driving in the mountains of B.C. constantly getting overtaken by newer SUV's and giant semi-trucks. At first it's an annoyance, especially the wind shakes you get after a big logging trucks pulls out in front of you. Then after a while you begin to take pride in taking your time. Almost laughing at the fact you're climbing a mountain road at 40km's an hour, taking in all the scenery as the van hums pushing second gear with all it's might. The second lesson you learn driving a VW bus, one that was practiced frequently on the last leg of our drive to Vancouver is what I call ten o'clock and 2 o'clock. Remember driving lessons when they say to always keep your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel. You've probably got a bit relaxed about it now, and sometimes you may even drive with your knee keeping you inbetween the lines, cigarette in one hand, coffee in another. Don't do that in a VW bus. The surface area of these vans versus the weight of them don't match up. We had some serious windgusts that I felt my heart drop as far as we would have, had I not been white knuckling the steering wheel at our beloved 10 and 2 o'clock

So after a few sketchy moments inbetween Merrit B.C. and Vancouver, we arrived to a beautiful sunshine filled sky, painting the mountains and valleys a most vivid green. The kind of green that you see in postcards. We had not made solid plans as to where we would be spending our time in Vancouver, but decided to phone our old neighbour Mel's dad who lived in Surrey, just outside of Vancouver. We met at a mall near his house and he took us back to where we've been staying for the last 2 nights. It's been a great time spending time with Terry and his family and they've taken good care of us. I'm going to do some work with him for the next 2 days, which will be fun and help out with a little bit of cash.

Lastnight I met up with my long, lost little brother who I haven't seen in 6 or 7 years. He was DJing at some swanky nightclub on Granville St. and put me on the guestlist. It was amazing to reconnect and find that we still share the same tastes in lots of things. Ahh, genetics. Amazing things. The club was called Republic and it had been a while since I'd been to a real nightclub, sorry Saskatoon, The Overdrive doesn't count. It feels good to be in a big city again, I forgot about the constant buzz that is present in the big city. Good restaurants open late, more variety of food, more multiculturism, but also more traffic, pollution and noise. Can't have it all I guess...

Anyways, we've decided to spend the weekend here for Thanksgiving as Terry and his family have invited us for their Sunday evening Turkey feast, which is awesome. We've also decided that seeing as how Eir is celebrating her 1st Birthday on Saturday it would be nice to do something special and not be caged up in a van. So we're going to take the girls to the Vancouver Aquarium and probably have a BBQ that evening. I don't know how I feel morally about the Aquarium, but I suppose I'll make that decision when I see it for myself. That's all for tonight, working man tomorrow and should get a good rest.

Solar Power and Mountain Showers at 50km/hour...

2008-10-07T02:19:00.001-06:00

I write from the top bunk of Dora on our first night of sleeping in her, Shona and Eir sleep soundly below while Freja lies next to me, comatose after a long day. It's 1:30 in the morning and I awoke after about four hours of sleep, and was unable to coax myself back into my dreams so I picked up the computer only to find that this little R.V. park in Merritt, B.C. actually has wireless so I thought I'd write some. I can't wait until my sleeping pattern get used to actually going to bed at reasonable hours and I can sleep through the night.

We left Revelstoke with no problems, packed up the van, had some bagels and Roastery coffee, double checked our little cabin and set off to get some gas ($1.359!!!) and head west. There is a law in B.C. now that requires you to pre-pay for all the gas you purchase, so after some bumbling at the pump and mixed hand signals from the woman inside, I finally managed to figure it out and went inside to leave some collateral as I wanted to fill the tank. Ay first I thought she was kidding about the law, but the next gas station was much of the same. Anyways, we filled up and headed towards Kamloops. The driving was great, Dora seemed to be happy to be back on the road and was purring nicely through the gentle slopes of the mountain roads. We changed our mind on route and decided to go through Kelowna instead which was a blessing and a curse all in one. We needed to get to a Canadian Tire for some supplies we realized we had forgptten or just not brought. I was also desperate to find out what was wrong with our solar panel set-up. We have a solar panel (graciously donated by Paul Bradley) mounted to the roof of the van, but for some reason the battery wasn't accepting the charge. I was quite proud of my handy work that went into mounting it and wiring it up, so I was anxious to get it running properly. This way we could have the slow cooker making us a nice stew while we drive down the sunny highway or even the bread maker baking us up a fresh batch.

I brought the battery with me into Canadian Tire and had one of the Auto Parts employee's check it out. Shona and the girls were off looking for a few things, one being the heater below me that makes the mountains a little more bearable at night. After a few minutes of diagnostics it did turn out that in fact the battery was toast and that's why our Solar System wasn't working. Luckily it was still under a warranty and we only had to pay half price for a new one. We got the heater, other bits and bobs and set off in search of a coffee shop in Kelowna. After some confusion (GPS and construction) we found a Second Cup and went inside for some coffee and muffins and to plan our next stop. It turned out the internet was $6 an hour!! I couldn't believe it, highway robbery if you ask me. We caught a few snags as we were trying to find a cheap campground to stay at near Kelowna but after a few phonecalls we realized we were looking at pretty much $40/night at all of them. This also came as a shock, considering you could get a motel for not much more. Completely unsatisfied and wishing we were in warmer and cheaper climates we decided to get in the van and just drive, opening ourselves up to the possibilities. It was about 6pm when we got on the road.

Now I don't know how many of you have driven the 97 from Kelowna to Merrit before, but I would highly recommend doing it in the daytime. After what seemed to be at least a 20km steep climb into the mountains -which a VW bus can mostly only do in 2nd gear- we were enveloped in thick, dense fog. It was actually clouds that were so dense you could barely see in front of you. Couple that with only being able to go barely 50km and you have one white knucked Matty Powell with his 4 way flashers on praying that the semi's flying past him can see poor little put-put Dora, doing her best to climb the hill. Which she did an amazing job of in the end. Shona was sitting next to me holding her breath as all we could imagine was how high we were when you'd get a tiny glimpse over the railings into the blackness. After about a half hours worth of that, we finally were able to see the signs we passed and decided to find a campground near Merritt (30kms away).

We still weren't done with the hills though and I could tell that Dora was getting tired. We coerced her with promise of a nice neutral, downhill coast into the town of Merritt and she seemed to soldier on. We pulled around a corner and were inundated with the lights of this little town, Shona had likened it to the relief of coming into land on an aircraft. After a little bit of searching, we found the R.V. park that we're in now. It wasn't as dear as Kelowna, at only $27/night and that includes a 2 for 1 breakfast at the local hotel, which we passed on our way here. It looks like something straight out of an old western, I'll take some pictures. We parked for the night and had our first attempt at sleeping in the van. This is always a bit difficult at first until you work out a solid system of rearranging your stuff. You see the back of the van which is filled with stuff is also one of the beds that need folded down. Throw some car seats back there and you have yourself some creative re-packing. After about the 3rd or 4th time you usually have it cased so I'm not too worried. Anyways, I guess I'm going to try and get back to sleep. We'll be driving to Vancouver tomorrow, and hopefully doing a couple days of work, to make up for the little bit of luxury in Banff. Until next time...

5:30 in the morning...

2008-10-06T06:35:00.006-06:00

It's 5:30 am and I'm sitting outside on the little deck of our quaint little cabin in Revelstoke. It's cold in these mountains at night, I haven't been up this early in a long time, a combination of a lost hour and an early bedtime I'm sure. Everyone is still asleep in the cabin as I sit with a camel cigarette watching my icy breath disappear into the cold dark sky. It's so quiet, I feel miles away from anywhere save the sounds of a few passing trucks on the nearby highway. I should probably stay up and watch the sunrise, take advantage of an early morning which I'm most used to seeing as a result of a late night at work. This is where the adventure really begins I guess, no true destination until our rendezvous in Guatemala on November 3rd to start spanish lessons. There may be a few days of work for me in Vancouver with our old neighbours stepdad, a well needed little influx of cash will surely help. I wonder what time the sun comes up in Revelstoke, there is definitely no sign of it yet. Losing my wallet lastnight was a temporary high-stress situation, that was relieved as logged into facebook to find a message from someone saying "Do you live in Banff? I found something that may interest you..." So I drove down to meet the good spirit in front of Mac's Milk and retrieved my fully intact wallet, complete with the Canadian Tire money that we'd accumulated from a gas cap purchase in Calgary. There is still good people in this world I guess. Thank you Corine.

I don't know where we will get to today, I'd like to try and make it to Vancouver, but I won't be bothered if we don't. Gas is $1.35.9/Litre in this little mountain town so it's going to be quite painful to fill up before we head out this morning, but what can you do? I read the Globe and Mail lastnight and it seems the whole world is getting shaken up by this $800 Million bailout our good ol' friend G.W. signed the other day. I can't help but wonder if this is it, the beginning of the end of the world as we know it. When financial institutions start to fail I'd like to think that the opportunity for better things will grow through their crumbling sidewalks, much like the flowers that find there way through the pavement of a abandoned parking lot. Anyways, I think I might try and get a bit more sleep as my eyes are begin to feel heavy again and my fingers start to feel numb from the frosty air. Spanish C.D.'s for the rest of the drive.... Buenos Dias mi amigos...

Banff to Revelstoke

2008-10-05T23:04:00.003-06:00

Sunday morning. I must have just collapsed and passed out last night when i was putting Eir to bed so after a good long sleep with only a few minor rumblings from the babes i felt somewhat refreshed today. Matty and his brother Jason however awoke with somewhat fuzzy heads after a night on the town celebrating a friend's wedding. A lost wallet returned by a kind and honest soul named Corine restored some faith in the human spirit.
After a bite of brunch with Jason and Gran Fran another teary eyed farewell as the journey continues. Somehow it felt a bit more real - and a little more scary this time - no destination in mind, no one meeting us at the other end, who knows where we'd end up, now its just us and infinite possibilites.
The road from Banff winds its way through the most beautiful majestic mountains and icy blue rivers. Following the train tracks a lot of the way we were commenting on how we felt as if we were little figures in a model railway, just waiting for a giant hand to break through the clouds and pick up the car in front or place another matchstick in the bridge we were about to cross. An idea of just how tiny and insignificant you feel when all around are the towering, rugged, snow capped mountains.
We stopped briefly to watch a pair of Elk feed right beside us. They didn't seem totally oblivious to the presence of the 4 or 5 vehicles stopping to gaze and admire but certainly appeared very indifferent to being photographed by so many.
The weather was good to us the whole journey, with only the tops of the highest peaks being engulfed in dark rain clouds.
As Freja and Eir slept longer than we had anticipated, we made the most of the extra few hours of peace and quiet and kept on the road, deciding to aim to overnight in Revelstoke.
Passing through our first time zone we gained an hour so arrived at the campground somewhere around 630pm. We stayed here on our last driving adventure. It was here that I first saw my husband without a beard as he appeared back after a shower sans whiskers a little over 3 years ago. I almost didn't recognise him, all of a sudden he looked about 10 years younger - a little un-nerving it has to be said as he was only 24 at the time.
We thought we might try to sleep in Dora tonight, but its pretty cold and damp so instead we opted to rent a wee heated cabin instead. We were given a free pass to the local swimming pool/aquatic centre (it has water slides) when we checked in so after quickly laying out our sleeping bags to take the chill off them we piled back into Dora and headed for the pool. Turns out its a salt water pool which felt much less harsh on the skin.We splashed around for an hour, Matty climbed the angled climbing wall over the deep end and i sat in the hot tub with the girls. Nice and relaxing after confinement of the long drive.
After a quick trip to the grocery store we got back to the campsite and i cooked our first camping meal on the stove in Dora. Butternut squash stuffed pasta with tomato basil sauce. (not from scratch i hasten to add - it was really just a heat up job) but it felt - and tasted good none the less. Wee Eir was starving bless her and she wolfed it down, but Freja ws too excited about her top bunk bed to eat anything. I don't know how we're going to get the princess down from her loft castle tomorrow...
As i lie on the double bed writing this, Freja and Matty are snoring in the top bunk (his turn to fall asleep putting babes to bed) and Eir is cosied up in her sleeping bag on the bottom bunk.
I've just been for a walk outside and its so quiet here, a world apart from the busy summer season hubub. I think we may possibly be the only folks here. Its so still, no wind just the faint noise of drizzling rain, the occassional rumble of the train going past and then silence. The outdoor pool's been drained and is littered with leaves, but the squealing and laughter of summer's children rings in my ears. The picnic tables have been rested on theire ends against the fence, but i was sure i heard cutlery rattle on the wood. The eerie creak of the washroom door as it echoes, and every rustle in the bushes seems magnified a hundred fold......"who's there?" . The pond is empty except for the stone statues of a peeing Cupid and an owl, but cupid's all peed out. I got the feeling though as i walked past that as soon as my back was turned they were both looking round at me watching me walk back to the cabin, the owl's head swiveling as its huge yellow eyes glint in the faint light, and cupid may well have started peeing again.
Sleep beckons.

2008-10-04T12:35:00.003-06:00

The mountains. I’m always in awe of the Rocky Mountains, ever since my first time snowboarding down their slopes as a rebellious 16 year old. There is something strangely humbling, yet empowering about standing in the shadow of the famous peaks of Mount Logan or Rundle. Empowering because of the sense of wonder seen in Freja’s eyes as she gazes up at them. Empowering because they make the cheesy souvenir shops filled with tourists look like little models waiting to be crushed by an overzealous 2 year old. Empowering because of the sense of accomplishment you feel while standing at the top of their peeks looking at the world below. Humbling because they could take your life in an instant with an avalanche or a mis-step.. Humbling because they are some of the most beautiful, breathtaking and inspiring things in the world, yet the human race had nothing to do with their creation. Humbling as you watch mountain goats traverse the sheer thousand foot drops with ease and no climbing ropes, while you clumsily try and find solid footing for your walking stick. A distant train whistles in the background of a dimly lit hotel room as it winds it’s way through the paths cut by many under-paid and under appreciated immigrant workers. I wonder if they knew I’d be listening to the echo of their blood, sweat and tears sitting in a hotel room with two beautiful daughters asleep in the loft, camera’s clicking through the days photographs and a cheap Bow Valley Lager beside me. I wonder if they knew that years later their ancestors would be riding those rails, gazing out the windows and snapping pictures of the same terrain that they cursed at everyday on their way to work where they never knew if they would make it back to camp that night. I’d like to thank all of the Chinese immigrant workers for letting me get lost in the beauty of a train whistle blowing through the cool mountain air tonight…

The mountains. And all the creativity and beauty that they inspire in me….

We named the van too, she's called Dora...

The Adventure begins....

2008-10-03T10:26:00.005-06:00

I don't think I"ve ever left for a trip on time. Unless of course I'm on a plane going by the airlines schedule. And the beginning of this trip was no different. In fact we actually left a day later than expected, which I think is the longest delay I've had for a road trip. We brought our 1980 VW Westfalia in for a routine check on Monday and that check turned into a cheque for $1700 and new shocks and rear and front seal replacements. Needless to say we didn't make our departure date as it was a 2 day job. Yogi at Prairie Autohaus was probably quite frustrated at the amount of phonecalls he recieved from us, much like a kid sneaking down to catch a peek at his presents at christmas but with a lot more stress. It was Wednesday before we got the van back in the late afternoon and after a lengthy discussion about all that may possibly go wrong with the van I left feeling relieved and scared. Ideally we would have packed the van that night, but we ran out of daylight as I worked wiring up the stereo system and we had to wait until the next morning.

Sleep was tough, as I knew it would be a hard day of goodbyes tomorrow as if the last week of goodbyes and parties wasn't hard enough. We don't really have a solid plan return strategy so I think people are wondering when they will see us again. I awoke dreary eyed and wanting just to lie on the couch for fifteen more minutes but knew there was to much to do so I slowly got out of bed to start the flurry of activities for our departure. I went to the roastery for one last coffee and then Canadian tire to finish my toolkit for the van (I have a secret plan to be a professional mechanic after this trip). I also picked up a few more things to wire up the solar panel on the roof. If you want a solar panel on the roof of your VW I'm now a seasoned professional and if I wasn't driving to Costa Rica, I think Paul and I would start up a business.

Anyways after packing up the van, which wasn't as laborious of a task as I thought, we set off after some tearful goodbyes with more space than we anticipated. Hitting the highway was a mix of emotions. The sadness of leaving and the excitement of going balanced eachother out. After learning that you can't always trust a GPS system we finally were on the open road. First rendezvous, Banff. It was here that we would meet up with my Brother and Mum to spend some quality time among the mountains and tourists. The van was running great, the solar panel was charging up and the girls in their car seats in the back were sleeping soundly. So I threw on some music and watched the highway, the GPS and Shona reading beside me. We're Off!

You'd think that if there was any province in Canada that had a plethora of gas stations it would of course be the Oil Rich Alberta. This is not the case. We stopped in Kindersley to make a quick phonecall and get some water and I contemplated filling the half full tank. We were in a slight rush and I thought I'd wait until the next town. Bad idea. The nest three towns only had cardlock gas and it was about 15km's outside of the town with a fuel pump that our little VW came to a slow and sad stop. Hmmm.. what to do now? Two fairly content babies in the backseat, a beautiful sunset on the horizon and no gas. The irony of it all us that we were basically across from oil derrick, happily pumping away...

Shona waved down the first car we saw and a lovely women named Tracy agreed to give me a ride to the next gas station where I would fill up a couple jerry cans and try and hitch a ride back to the van. It all went very smoothly. In fact when I was paying for my gas and regalling the clerk with my woeful tell I ended up inadvertently getting a ride with a trucker who was in line behind me. It was pretty neat being in one of those big rigs, I didn't realize how high class they are and have a new apprecition everytime I see one on the highway. We found the van on the highway, Cliff the trucker came to a stop and we got out and said goodbye which was accompanied by a big pull on his horn as he drove off to pick up more barley for another run. It's harvest time in the prairies. I filled up the van and we were off, way later than we thought we'd be but with more adventures and stories to share. Which are way more important than time if you ask me.

We blew through Calgary where I realized that I left the gas cap at the Cactus Corner Rest Stop, luckily Canadian Tire was still open (for 2 minutes) and I managed to get another gas cap to get us into the rockies. My eyes were tired for the last hour to Banff but we made it safe and sound and now it's morning the coffee is brewing, the bacon is grilling and the sun is shining through the window as I look at the majestic Rockie Mountains and type this. We're treating ourselves to a cabin here, to spent some quality time with my Brother and Mum, but after this no more treats.

It's begun and I'm happy. It's weird to have your house on your back, but strangely freeing. I can get used to this....