Post 116: Last Stop - Georgetown, Guyana

Fellow adventurers,

Our last day in Georgetown was rather brief yet fulfilling. The Caribbean breeze runs throughout the city and reggae music pumps through speakers on all corners, reminding us of our days in Jamaica. The population of the old Dutch and British colony of Guyana is 770,000; less than that of my home city, Philadelphia. It’s primarily devised of people of African and East Indian heritages; the minority being those of mixed races. I wasn’t sure what to expect to see before arriving, and had heard from fellow travelers of all the trash in the streets.  What I saw were19th-century wooden houses supported on stilts, and charming green boulevards laid out along the lines of the old Dutch canals that give it a unique character. Where we stayed was surrounded by pretty colonial houses. While some of those canals did have lots of garbage, I was glad to be in the country where it’s said only the experienced, brave, independent travelers venture into, a country that is often mistaken to be in Africa.

The British built what used to be the world’s tallest wooden structure, the St. George Cathedral constructed of local wood which is dark and termite resistant. It was completed in the Gothic Style at 143 feet tall in 1899. We admired the clustered columns, flying buttresses and tinted, Gothic windows from the inside. The chandelier that was given by Queen Victoria still hangs.  Old emblems line the walls in memory of those passed, each one telling the brief tale of the role in the community the person played, as well as how they died. Some were stories of men going down with their ship while during battles in the Caribbean, brothers whom fought with Britain during the first World War, or sudden illnesses caught while at sea.  It was an unusual piece of personal history.

Gavin and I had read about a decent burger joint where they’re served topped with pineapple, so we enjoyed that for lunch in Guyana’s first and only mall. We then visited an old, bustling market, constructed of iron and steel by a company out of Delaware, USA in 1881. Inside a variety of goods were being sold, as well as the typical meat, fish and produce. I love to visit markets while traveling, as I’m always curious about the local foods and exotic fruit.  We’d stop when we saw something unfamiliar, such as cassava juice, which is typically used for coloring foods or a base for hotpot soup. We tried the unusual Awara fruit, which after the red or orange skin is peeled the nutty flavored fruit is eaten around the nut; and mamey fruit, large and brown with easy to peel skin, and a sweet orange flesh inside to eat. The vendors were kind enough to tell us what they were, and how to eat them. We stopped at a bar to drink some local brews and try the reputable rum. The people in Guyana were all very friendly and sociable to us, and we never felt in danger. After filling our bellies with delicious chinese food, we were content on our positive yet short experience in Guyana.

We left early Saturday morning, had a stopover in Trinidad before heading off the Fort Lauderdale where Gavin’s mother awaited our return at the airport.  The flight was smooth, but security in Guyana and Trinidad were tighter than expected.  However, we had a smooth, timely arrival and took comfort in seeing a familiar face to welcome us.These next few days I hope to post videos and audio recordings of our past travels.  I also plan to update on what I’ve taken from this trip, so please stay tuned.

June y Gavin

Post 115: The road to Georgetown, Guyana (Boa Vista/Bonfim/Lethem/The Interior)

Fellow adventurers,

The last 3 days have been spent traveling almost one thousand miles, from the shores of the Amazon in Manaus to the Guyana's capital city, Georgetown; our last stop on the continent. It was not an easy ride, but we have finally made it.

Our journey here began where our last post left off. After departing the boat in Manaus, we cabbed it across the Amazonian metropolis to the local bus terminal and bought tickets for the next bus to Boa Vista in the northernmost state of Brazil, Roraima. The only highway in this region, number 174, connects Manaus with the southernmost border of Venezuela. The ride itself was through lush tropical land, spotted with many cow pastures and an occasional small town. The bus stopped frequently, giving us ample time to stretch our legs and grab a snack or two. Oddly enough, upon our arrival in Boa Vista, we were a short 100 miles from where we had began our journey some four months ago in Canaima National Park. We arrived late, and the bus station was closed, so we wandered down the street until we found a suitable hotel and called it a night.

The next morning, I awoke early and purchased our tickets to the border town of Bonfim. The ride was easy enough, through grassy savanna land. Again the road was spotted with settlements and cow pastures, there doesn't seem to be much else out here. At the border, we were met by cab drivers offering rides to Georgetown, and obliged one who gave us a free ride over the border to the town of Lethem. After the Brazilian border, we crammed into a cab with a few others and made our way to the Guyanese side. As we crossed into Guyanese territory, the road split in two lanes and looped one over the other to make the correction for the roads of this tiny former British colony. We were amused and reminded of our time in Jamaica, navigating its similarly backwards roads and driving alignment.

Immigration on the other side was simple, and finally in English! Though the tongue they speak here is very hard to understand as it is heavily accented in the Caribbean styling of the West Indies. In Lethem, we relaxed at a restaurant slash bar slash quasi bus stop until the minibus was fully packed, supplied and ready to go. Our companion travelers were all Brasilieros, making there way to Georgetown for some reason or another, one even carried along a small puppy. We did not feel completely separated from our time in Brazil, everyone on the border seemingly speaks Portuguese and there are many signs are in both languages far into the interior of Guyana.

The ride for me was very uncomfortable to say the least. I had the pleasure of being crammed in the far back of the bus with three other skinny men who all fit into a seat meant for three average sized people. June was lucky to have a full single seat to herself, a pleasure no one else aboard had. During the first evening, I did my best to ignore this and watch the countryside pass by. Until the sun set, we rode through more savanna land filled with giant termite piles, some as tall as 7 feet, which dotted the landscape. The dirt road was rough and complete with many small primitive bridges crossing over little streams and embankments. After the sun set, we could see tons of stars above and the land filled with thousands of lighting bugs appearing to almost mimic the night sky. We enjoyed dinner at a small roadside canteen before our final stop of the day at a small alcove for hammocks right off the road. $1000 Guyanese dollars ($5 usd) bought us the use of two hammocks for the next 6 hours before we started down the road again. Overnight the temperature dropped drastically and we both became pretty cold. Our salvation was the use of one of our sleeping bags as a blanket and joining together in one hammock.

At 4 AM we awoke and all crammed by into the mini-bus yet again. The further we made it into The Interior (as it is called), the worse and worse the road became. Our driver swerved in and out to avoid the hundreds of massive potholes that dotted the road for hour upon hour. My head would occasional smack the side of the window when I was not paying enough attention. Another danger were deep pits of mud we would sometimes encounter, our fear was that the bus would not be able to navigate them and we would be stuck out here in the middle of no where. To add insult to injury, we were stopped every 50 kilometers for a police passport check. There we would all have to file out of the van and into a tiny municipal police station where a badly uniformed officer would thumb through our passports for who knows what. This happened at least eight times along the way. After one of these many checks, we had one of the most exciting times of the morning crossing a river via a ferry boat as we were leaving Iwok Rama Forest. After we crossed, we enjoyed some curried Chicken and coffee for breakfast. At another stop we had a chance to see some Scarlet Macaws and Parrots, along with a captive monkey while we waited.

The site outside of the jungle were very scant to be had. This is the only road through the interior, and is very sparsely populated. Not until we came to the town of mining town of Linden (formerly McKenzie), 100 kilometers outside of Georgetown did the road finally become paved. From there, we soared through tiny villages with funny English names like "Friendship", "Pearl". "Supply" and more until we reached the capital, Georgetown, our final stop.  We arrived covered in a residue of the red dirt that made up the roads; we were filthy, tired and hungry.  We settled into a small guest house and ate Chinese food for dinner, which tastes better here than it does at home.  Today we'll see some of the city.

Gavin y June

Post 114: Down the Amazon, from Belem to Manaus

Fellow adventurers,

Sorry for the long delay in updates, we have been on the move non-stop and without internet connection since our boat left Belem's port two Wednesdays ago. The ride down the river was a long and sometimes trying one. I wish I could report that it was the thrill of a lifetime, but to be honest most of it was spent in an on-board cabin watching movies and wasting time as the boat slowly made its way upriver to Manaus, the capital of the Amazonas region of Brazil.

We arrived an hour later than we had been told to the dock, thanks to some confusion in the local timezone and a recent switch in daylights saving time, but luckily had many hours to spare before the boat even managed to leave port. That time was spent meeting other gringos who we would occasionally share beers and conversation with over the next 6 days. Before completely settling into our bunk bed cabin, June managed to get us an upgrade to a suite with a private bathroom and double bed. While having a private bathroom was nice, it was rather rusted and smelly. The only source of water was from the river, leaving it a nice brown tint. The room took on a rather foul smell after a few days, leaving us wondering if we had made the right choice. The boat was more modern and much bigger than I had imagined it to be. I originally envisioned a wooden multi-leveled trawler, similar to those commonly seen on the Mississippi, but instead we rode something more akin to a miniature cruise liner. The boat finally departed late in the evening, and we celebrated with some beer as we watched Belem drift out of view.

Over the first few days we ate as the locals did, and enjoyed cheap, basic meals below deck in the canteen. That was until we both became slightly food poisoned yet again, and vowed not to try our luck that way again. The last 4 days of the trip we subsisted on snacks we had brought aboard, our trusty jar of 7 dollar peanut butter and a selection of Cup'O Noodles or Ham and Cheese grilled sandwiches from the 'Lanchaneta' at the aft of the ship.

We lazed about most of the days as the evergreen shoreline of the Amazon slipped by us, kilometers after kilometer. Little villages, cow pastures, homes, churches and schools teeming with life all dotted the riverside for our viewing pleasure. Occasionally the boat would dock in a town or city to drop off or pick up more people and goods. Sometimes we would even be greeted by locals who would incredibly attach their canoes to the moving vessel and board to sell fresh water shrimp or local fruit to passengers. We even caught a glimpse of some river dolphins swimming next to the ship. Some nights we enjoyed beers and watched the stars and full moon rise with our fellow gringos while chatting about our many experiences travelling. On the lower decks, hammocks lined 5 rows deep. We strung up our own in case we felt the need to relax and swing.

Along the way somewhere we became delayed and our boat did not end up arriving in Manaus until late in night of our expected arrival day. We had originally expected to be off the boat around 4pm but instead ended up spending another (our sixth) night sleeping aboard before finally stepping off into Manaus early Tuesday morning.

Gavin y June

Post 113: At the mouth of the Amazon

Fellow adventurers,

Waking up at 5:30 this morning gave us the opportunity to watch the sun rise, presenting silhouettes of the city and the mountains of Rio that lie on the coast. We had a bus to catch to the airport, but met an Argentinean woman who asked if we'd split the cost of a taxi with her. Our taxi driver sped to nearly 100 kph at times, winding past traffic and pointing out favelas and the Carnaval grandstand. Our seat belts were fastened tight and our hearts were in our stomachs, but luckily we safely made it to the airport.

After a 3 1/2 hour flight, we landed in the humid city of Belem, which lies at the mouth of the Amazon river. We managed to find a bus to our hotel, and after settling in we set off to the port to arrange transport for our 5 day boat ride down the Amazon towards Manaus. Surprisingly, the offices at the port were closed but that didn't prevent the ticket hawkers from trying to sell to us. We headed to the local market to buy hammocks, assuming we'd be riding hammock class and would need them for our journey on the boat. Along the way, there were many street vendors selling Brazil nuts, tropical fruits, wooden toys carved from the trees of the rainforest, and my favorite; ice cold coconut milk straight out of the fruit.

Our hotel receptionist insisted we try the local ice cream down on the river, inside a new shopping and restaurant complex. There were many different exotic flavors to choose from, most unheard of.  A popular variety though is of the acai fruit, which originates in this region and is more internationally known as a super food filled with antioxidants. The area serves acai as a street dish, whether served as itself, sweetened or as a dipping sauce for meats and such. Otherwise, it's typically used in smoothies. While I've had it at home, everyone urges me to try it while I'm here, which I still have yet to do. Though the ice cream we shared this afternoon was certainly thicker then what we've had elsewhere in South America, and some of the best yet, so maybe I will listen to the locals when they insist on acai fruit.

It's unlike me to say that Gavin and I were rather apprehensive on riding hammock class as the locals do down the river for 5 days, considering we're ones whom like to immerse ourselves. Sleeping in a hammock after 1 night gets rather uncomfortable, especially when you're crammed on a deck with 100 others in the humidity. Not to mention the lack of privacy or place to safely store your baggage while your in the dining hall. With all this in mind, we wanted to try for a cabin on the boat and decided to put our negotiating skills on the table. All in all, we managed to barter the cabin down from 900 Brl (about $510 usd) to 650 Brl's (about $368 usd) for the both of us in an air conditioned cabin, or a tiny narrow room with a bunk bed. Certainly not cheap, but a significant discount from the original price none the less, and the only means of getting to our flight from this point.

We awarded our negotiating skills with a beer from the Amazon Beer company down in the river complex with the sound of some live jazz behind us. On our walk back, we passed a kiosk selling  'sandwiches,' which really means burgers, hot dogs, pork, bacon and egg or a combo of all in one loaded with varieties of toppings. It smelled delicious and we hadn't eaten any Brazilian food as of yet, so we took a seat on one of the plastic chairs laid out on the side of street (but still in the street.)  We ordered a pork sandwich, served hot with lettuce, tomato, onion, fried egg, and ham topped with a slaw and shoestring potatoes. Those are the moments you have in common with the locals; the enjoyment of something delicious, where you sit and chew and smile at one another although your lives are world's apart. It's very ingenious how vendors come at certain time of day, choose a spot in the street to set up their food cart, lay out some simple chairs and little tables, hand out menus and serve decent food at a good price to a mass of hungry people. If only in America people were so free to do that without all the unnecessary bureaucracy involved. It's something I really like about South America, and travel in general, learning the many different ways one makes the means to survive.

It sounds unpleasant, but sitting in the street with the locals while the trash lies about and the noisy traffic drives by you, feeling the thick humidity in the air, hanging about and eating as locals do is something I never knew I'd miss. It's the unfamiliar that begins to feel more familiar. It's what feels like real travel, real experiences; the feelings you get from somewhere are the places you'll remember most. A young lady on the radio began singing a Bossa Nova version of "Fly me to the Moon" in Portugeuse when Gavin and I began to feel a little sad; we realized we hadn't the time we wanted in Brazil, and also that we were almost home. During our little time we've had in Brazil, we both determined it's someplace we'd like to return and spend more time in.

June e Gavin

Post 112: The Marvelous City - Rio.

Fellow adventurers,

Brazil. Finally. We spent 25 hours on a bus after being ferried over the border by a cab with an older French couple who was exploring the Brazilian side for the day. Goodbye Spanish speaking America, you will be greatly missed. I was just starting to get a handle on the language and now it is completely useless to us. The bus ride to Rio was one of the most difficult yet, and had us regretting taking the semi-cama option. Our bus was stopped several times along the way by the local, federal, and every other police in Brazil to check for drugs. The first stop netted a young women with a pound of weed in her baggage. The hours never seemed to end until we arrived yesterday in the Marvelous city, Rio de Janeiro.

We decided on staying in the neighborhood of Leme, just at the end of Copacabana beach. From the bus station we caught a local bus to Copacabana and hailed a cab for the rest of the short distance. Our hostel is at the bottom of a pacified 'favela', the Brazilian term for slum or ghetto. The road leading in is guarded 24/7 by a militarized patrol car, and overall, we have felt no real safety issues. On our first day we tried to rest and recover from some kind of cold that has been plaguing us for the last week or so, unfortunately to no avail.

Today we decided to try and at least see the famous Christ the Redeemer statue atop Corcovado in the middle of Rio. We had wanted to explore some of the beaches also, but our morning venture to the statue ended up taking the majority of our one and only day here in the city. We hopped on a bus which took us through the neighborhoods of Copacabana, Botofoga, and Flamengo before finally dropping us at the bottom of Corcovado. The site was packed full of tourists, and our tickets didn't end up being for nearly 2 hours after we had arrived. We wasted time in a nearby park, people watching and discussing the dynamics of Brazilian life before it was our turn to take the train to the top.

The train took us through a natural park, teeming with fruit trees, lush greenery, and even some monkeys. As we ascended to the top a band hopped on and serenaded everyone in the local stylings of the Samba. We finally arrived and hopped off making our way to the top, where we were met by hundreds of others wanting to see one of the 7 Man-made Wonders of the World. The third wonder we have seen, after Machu Picchu and the Colosseum. The statue itself was less impressive to me than the surrounding views which were fully encompassing and amazing. Though we did not have several more days to explore the city, we at least had a chance to view from a distance the sights of the Sugarloaf, Maracana, favelas, and the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema from the skies above Rio.

Tomorrow we fly to Belem, at the mouth the Amazon River. Our first and only goal is to find a boat for Wednesday that will take us down the river to Manaus, from where we have to make our way to Georgetown, Guyana for our flight home next weekend. The boat ride is a full five days of nothing but relaxing as we pass through one of the biggest ecosystems on the planet. Our four month journey is really winding down now and our emotions are very mixed. On one hand we feel relieved to be somewhere familiar and with those we know and love. On the other we are going to miss the continent which has taught us so much and tested us so firmly.

Return we will, to Old Brazil.

Gavin e June

Post 111: Iguazu Falls

Fellow adventurers,

Once there was a god whom planned to marry a beautiful woman named Naipi, but she fled with her mortal lover Taroba in a canoe. In a rage, the god sliced the rivers condemning the lovers to an eternal fall. Legend has it that this is how the 1.7 mile wide waterfalls of the river Iguazu were created. Separate waterfalls and cataracts, as many as 150 - 300 depending on the water level, flow over the edge of the Parana Plateau. They vary in height from 200 - 269 feet high.

After a desperate attempt at turning in all necessary paperwork and about $300 to obtain a visa for our later entrance into Brazil, we caught a bus for a 20 minute ride to Iguazu Falls National Park. Entering the park we were greeted by a number of coatie's, a raccoon like mammal with a pointy snout, sharp canines, and long, striped tail. They rummaged around looking for food, not fearful of humans which made for catching close snapshots of them. They even tore a hole in the plastic bag we were carrying our packed lunch in. As we continued on, we crowded with many others into the rows of seats of a small open train which transported visitors to different parts of the park, where once there the option to hike to different viewpoints of the falls was available.

The train reached it's farthest point of travel at the Garganta del Diablo, or the 'throat of the devil.'   We fought our way through the masses of people walking slowly or occasionally stopping for a photo on the boardwalk that takes you over the rivers towards the viewpoint. It's amazing to me how calm the water seems to be around the massive waterfall, where most of the water flows.  It's no wonder Eleanor Roosevelt said "Poor Niagara" when she saw the u - shaped, 152 ft wide, 2,296 ft long waterfall. Gavin and I were in awe, attempting to snap what photos we could without getting to wet by the thick mist in the air.

All the trails in the park are constructed off the ground in order to not to disturb the natural habitat. Along them we saw many butterflies, some in groups whom would land on you; as well as some species of tropical birds and long legged spiders. The rain started to pour as it briefly does everyday in the tropics, just in time for us to board the train once again. This time we got off at a stop that took us along varying higher and lower points of interest, just as the rain began to pass. We continued to be impressed by the velocity of the falls, and just how many there were. Such geography is almost indescribable, and could only be understood by putting yourself there. I feel like no description or photos could do such justice.

Today we picked up our Visa's, and switched hostels as the one we were in seemed to have a problem with bedbugs that luckily didn't bite us, but others weren't so fortunate. It's 2 weeks until we fly home,  and tomorrow we set on a 25 hour bus journey into the giant nation of Brazil. Just as I was getting more confident with my Spanish speaking skills, I now must learn some Portuguese phrases.  I look forward to Brazil, but also to returning home, although I know once I settle in, I'll be anxious to get on the road again (Turkey and Jordan, perhaps?).

June y Gavin

Post 110: Our last days in Uruguay

Fellow adventurers,

Our last few nights on the beautiful coast of Uruguay were spent camping in Santa Teresa National Parque. During the day we were to leave for the park, we stored our bags with a friendly Canadian couple we had chatted with the night before. We roamed along the northern beach, famously known here as the "Window", for its rocky outcroppings and turbulent winds. The beach had few people compared to the more popular center beach in the city, but was full with a few adventurous sand boarders, and even a kite surfer.

In the evening, we set up 100 meters from the beach under some low lying trees with enough time to make our dinner before the light crept away for the evening.  We star gazed and caught sight of many shooting stars over the shore. Our night ended with a movie in our tent, with the ambient sounds of ocean waves crashing near by.

It turned out the next day that our worries about paying for the site were unfounded, as the park is mostly unmanned and no one comes to bother you about any fee. Our entire stay ended up being free. We roamed around during the early part of our last day in search of the Fortaleza Santa Teresa, but ended up going in the wrong direction all together. Unfortunately we never had a chance to explore the old Spanish colonial fort. Regardless, we enjoyed our time and relaxed. The park lacks any store, but luckly for us, it is full of friendly Uruguayans who were more than happy to help us with supplies as they departed. The owner of a 'kiosko' even gave us an entire bottle of cold spring water from his now closed store. We were here during the end of the heavy season, and the park seemed almost empty.

We had previously changed our return ticket from leave from Punta del Diablo, as oppossed to La Padrera to save the hassle of making our way back down the coast. We were saddened not to be greeted by our host Pablo upon returning to the Uruguayan capital, but took the time to finalize our plans before our departing bus to the northwest of the country. Our final day in Montevideo was bittersweet, as we had grown comfortable to the familiarity of the relaxed port city. Thankfully we had a chance to hang out with our awesome host before catching the midnight bus to Salto. Our bus departed right as an intense thunderstorm was overtaking the city. The plan had been to enjoy a movie before sleep, but the show outside our windows was much more of a draw.

The bus ended up arriving in Salto far before the sun rose, leaving us with ample time before our next bus and no place to continue our much needed sleep. After consulting a local wall map, we headed for a park a few blocks from the bus station, opting to some rest under a tree until the sun rose. When it finally did, we walked through the border city to the Rio Uruguay, from where we were trying to reach Concordia, Argentina for our bus north to Iguazu. The border crossing was one of the most unique we have taken in the last 4 months. With just enough money in our pockets to get across, we caught a local boat departing a few minutes later for the Argentine shores, a mere 5 minute ride away. Our exit stamp was given by a lady and her child, sitting in an empty port building above where our boat was waiting. Of the ten people aboard, we were the only foreigners. It seems as though this route is not very frequented by travelers from abroad.

The border point on the Argentine side was just as simplistic and fast. We were lost as we left the immigration office at the center of a Naval base, and without funds until we could reach an 'cajero automatico'. Luckily a local man kindly offered us a ride after we inquired about the direction of the bus terminal, which was many kilometers away. He was very jovial and we spoke to him in our broken Spanish as he ferried us through town. From there, we waited for the rest of the evening until we caught our bus to Puerto Iguazu, on the Brazilian border.

Gavin y June