Climbing the Ficus Tree in Costa Rica’s cloud forest town of Monteverde

What is this mysterious tree and why does everybody on the tourist trail talk about it? 

Well, it is a parasite. It latches onto a ‘host’ tree (much like our beloved, Christmas garnish, mistletoe) and feeds off it’s water and nutrients, slowly growing around it, strengthening and maturing. After years of theft, the Ficus drains the life of its victim, which eventually dies. 
The host tree disintegrates. The ficus remains. Self sufficient and hollow. 

Such a blood-thirsty tree exists near the town of Monteverde. You just have to find it.  

Take note – this is the coolest, ‘activity’, Sam and I did in Costa Rica, and it is one hundred percent free.  

With our hostel’s in-depth, hand drawn map in hand, (we stayed at Monteverde Backpackers, it was comfortable, clean and they had an abundance of kitchen facilities. I highly recommend it), we had a rough idea of where we needed to go to reach the entrance to the forest; but there are no physical signs pointing you to the tree’s location. Luckily, I took a photo of the opening and drew a helpful arrow to show future travellers where to go: 

The clearing is pretty much directly opposite the Cloud Forest Lodge. Simple. 

As you make your way through the trees, be aware that you will come across ‘younger’ ficuses that have just started their journey to adulthood, gorging their way around a doomed host tree. These are not ready for you to climb. The beast you’re looking for is marked with a pink ribbon near its base. 

Pink ribbon attached to a tree nearby

This is the forest, sap-sucking, vampire you’re looking for. 

We were there during the low season, so when we arrived, we were the only two souls around. Perfect. Time for a photo shoot. 

Although this didn’t last long. We were too eager to climb the beautifully intricate bark ladder in front of us.  

Setting off up the trunk

We took one backpack between us. Necessary items, such as cameras, phones and a selfie stick, were thrown into it, while unnessary items like, water and raincoats, were discarded near the base. Sam kindly agreed to take it with her, as I am ever so slightly (cough, understatement) claustrophobic, and would have completely freaked out trying to squeeze myself through the final twists and turns towards the top of the tree.  

Sam went first, sussing out the situation. The tree itself is like a natural ladder. But some ‘steps’ are a bit steeper than others, so you need to be very aware of where you place each foot, especially when coming down.  

I’m not going to place a fluffy shroud over it by saying it is easy, because the last few hoists and heaves up through the trunk are quite strenuous. You need to have an indoor rock-climbing head on. You really need to think carefully about how to distort your body and where to place your feet in order to drag yourself up through the narrow passage.

Near the top of the tree

So the best part about this adventure, is that you don’t have to enjoy it solo. Once you’re at the top, as long as you are extremely careful, a couple of you can step out of the tunnel, and onto the canopy. I reckon you could fit three or four people up there at the most. As there was only two of us, and my travel buddy, Morgan Bear, who, as per usual, gets a free ride in the backpack, we were able to take some awesome photos of us enjoying the views of the valley over the treetops.  

Standing on top of the canopy

You don’t need a guide, you don’t need a harness, you don’t need to pay hundreds of dollars, you simply need to be fearless of heights and know how to climb. It’s like regressing back to your childhood instinct of, ‘I could totally get up there’. Granted, when you’re a kid, you often get stuck and need the help of your dad to get you down, but not this time. 

Admiring the Ficus from the terra-firma

Again, Sam went first, assessing the path ahead. Barking (excuse the pun) instructions to stop me panicking. And together, we did it. We reached terra firma, retrieved our belongings and gave a quick, friendly briefing, to a couple waiting patiently at the bottom. 

I mean, it’s not difficult to achieve, but when you’re in the middle of the forest, by yourselves, you can’t help but think about the accidents that could happen as you haul your way up through the middle of a phantom tree. But once you get past that initial fear, it is the coolest thing you can do in Costa Rica. 

All smiles after the adventure

And I repeat. It is free. 

If you do one thing in this adrenaline filled country, (and you won’t, you’ll do much more), do this.  

Just make sure you have travel insurance. 
This post was completed in Sugar Cane Hostel in Medellín, Colombia. It was written to the sound of city birds and the odd spot of traffic.

Ignoring the word ‘budget’ in Costa Rica

As I travelled South through Nicaragua, I met many people that had over-landed from Costa Rica. Some had even left the country earlier than they had anticipated. 

“Oh yeah, it’s a beautiful country, but it’s bloody expensive!” 

Great. There goes my budget of £1000 a month. 

Although upon reflection, as I write this post on the other side of my five week stint, yes, it was expensive, it was like being back in North America, but somehow I am still under budget. And it’s because of cheaper countries like Mexico, Honduras and Nicaragua, that I was able to blow a little bit more money in the land of national parks and adventure. 
A word of advice from one traveller to another – mix up your countries, they don’t all have to be cheap for you to be ‘on budget’. Although to be honest, I don’t spend a lot of money on drinking and nightlife, whereas some backpackers can’t leave a town/city without checking out the party scene. I spend most of my money on food. 

Fortunately, for my first two weeks in Costa Rica, my best friend, Sam, joined me for the ride. We had planned to visit three places, and we were in agreement that we would spend our money on whatever we wanted. No holding back. This was a holiday for her, and a blow out for me. It was also nearly Christmas, so that was another excuse to go wild. 

First stop was Tortuguero, a very small, one street peninsula village, on the East coast of Costa Rica. The main magnetism that attracts tourists here is the national park. But the fun begins with the journey.  

After the not so exciting two bus journeys from Costa Rica’s concrete capital, San José, we came to the end of the road. Literally. The only onward journey is via a long narrow boat that winds its way along a river surrounded by dense jungle for over an hour. When someone spotted a cayman basking on a vertically growing tree, the driver kindly backtracked for us to take photos.

We were very lucky to have a smooth ride and a bright sunlit day. Mainly because all our luggage was on another boat, of which mine had been placed precariously on top of the pile. To this day I can’t believe that we didn’t have to fish it out of the river. 

As is cryptically within the name, Tortuguero is famous for its sea turtles that lay their eggs on the shore. We had just missed the laying season, but every night, if you were in the right place at the right time, you’d see one or two babies cracking their shells and breaking for freedom. We were two of the lucky few. 

Discarded turtle shells in a nest

We caught the miracle of one hatchling frantically flapping his flippers as he scurried towards the sea. I was surprised at how quickly it was over. It must have taken a total of one frightening, exhausting, exciting minute for the creature to drag itself into the waves. And it’s all down to pure instinct upon hatching.  

Baby turtle breaking for freedom – excuse the blurry image, it was dark and he/she was fast

Turtles were not actually our primary reason for visiting tiny Tortuguero, this was just an added bonus. Sam’s priority, which we achieved within the first ten minutes of our three-part, all-day tour, was to spot a sloth. This was the dream ever since she booked her flight, and no sooner had we sat down in our fancy, silent, electric-motor canoe, that our tour guide spotted a three-toed sloth in the depths of the canopy. There were four of us on the tour, and we all looked at each other, open-mouthed, thinking the same thing.  

How did he see that? 

Photo of the three-toed sloth taken on an iPhone 5 through the lens of a telescope

But of course, as the weeks went by, I learnt that tour guides tend to simply, ‘know’, where certain animals will be hiding. There are often hordes of bored looking guides sitting at the entrance to the national parks, promising that we won’t see anything unless we pay for the well-trained eyes of these nature geniuses.  

Fun facts – sloths come down to the ground once a week to poo. They have a moss that grows in their fur which is perfect for sloth moths to live in. When the sloth ventures to Mother Earth to complete it’s business, the moths will lay their eggs in the faeces. The moth hatchlings then fly off to find their own mossy three-toed home to live in. Fascinating stuff. 

So I admit that we wouldn’t have seen a furry/scaly/wriggly soul if we hadn’t paid for the tour, but to be honest, once you’ve been on one guided jungle adventure, you don’t really need to do it in every national park. And Costa Rica is riddled with them. Each with a steep $10 entry fee. Except for Cahuita, which is entry by donation. 

The elegance of a cayman, skimming the surface of the river, completely ignoring our presence

In Tortuguero, we paid $65 for full day tour package with Tortuguero Tours ‘Adventures Close to Nature’, (follow the link to their current website. I believe they are working on a new one, so if the link doesn’t work, you can find them on Trip Advisor). This included a two to three hour canoe tour, a two to three hour day walk through the national park, and a two hour night walk through a privately owned park. It was worth every single cent. We were able to see both the two and three-toed sloth, a cayman, camouflaged reptiles, turtles, frogs and many different types of birds native to Costa Rica.  

This photo of a turtle was taken moments before it fell into the river

It reminded me of my childhood, when I stayed with my family in Wales. We would go on outings to the woods, or the brook, laden down with fishing nets, buckets and tasty picnics. My days and evenings were spent searching for rabbits and badgers, or ‘rescuing’ tadpoles by bringing them home to the safety of our garden pond. Except this time, I was a big time wilderness explorer in Central America, complete with binoculars, rubber boots, torches, and an expert guide carrying a high quality telescope. It was very, very, cool. 

Frog spotting during the night walk

Beyond the national park, there isn’t much else to do in Tortuguero, so we packed up and headed back along the windy river to catch a bus to La Fortuna. We had big plans there. We were going to go on a fairytale horseback ride in glorious sunshine around the base of Volcán Arenal. For months we had it all, excitingly, mapped out.  

Alas, these dreams were slightly foiled. The day arrived, and the rain was relentless. I’m not quite sure what we expected in a rainforest, but when we were discussing the exciting possibilities in a foreign country, away from gloomy England, we naturally thought of sunnier climes. 

The rain didn’t deter us though. We were saddled up and given giant black ponchos to wear. The three of us, Sam, the guide, and myself, were a bunch of bobbing heads on horseback.  

Setting a new poncho trend on horseback

Neither Sam nor I had ridden a horse since we were kids, so we were a little nervous. And we had every right to be. You really don’t realise how high up you are, or how powerful the horse is, until you hoist yourself onto its back and hug your legs against its muscular torso. With the mud and lashing rain, our trusty steeds had a lot of elements to contend with, but they battled on, up and down the slippery, rocky maze of the volcanic landscape. 

The soggy journey

“Horse-riding is simple,” our guide explained. “Lean forward when going up, back when going down, pull reins left and right to steer.” 

Regardless of the simplicity of our instructions, I was constantly aware of the four gangly legs below me that could trip or slip at any moment. But they never did. 

One of the highlights of this tour was passing the abandoned decrepit hotel buildings next to a lake that the facility no longer use. Our guide explained that Volcán Arenal had erupted a few decades ago and it was no longer safe for guests to stay in these lodges. The jungle had already started to claim them, creeping its way through windows and doors, creating a contemporary set of ruins with Arenal as its backdrop. 

View of the volcano from a path near our hostel

We took the horseback tour with Los Lagos, a hotel/spa that offered all types of excursions, and included entrance to their hot-springs, all for around $50 depending on your chosen activity. We actually booked through our hostel, as they had a special rate with the resort, so I’m not sure how much it would be if you booked directly through Los Lagos. We stayed at Howler Monkey Hostel, a new hostel about a two and a half kilometre walk from the centre of La Fortuna. This suited us as it was also about three kilometres away from the trailhead for Cerro Chato, a volcano that you can independently climb. 

After our very wet two hours on horseback, we were very grateful for the inclusion of the hot-springs with the tour. One of the pools had a swim-up bar where you could order food and cocktails, but upon spying the very small white plastic cups which your mojito was un-lovingly poured into, and the excessive cost, we passed. Also, take note of the temperature of each pool, or you just might end up going down a fun looking slide with a shockingly bitter landing. Much to everyone else’s enjoyment. 

Back at the hostel, we used the fantastic (not sarcastic, possibly the best equipped kitchen I’ve ever had the luxury of using in a hostel) kitchen facilities to make our dazzling dinner of veggie omelettes, and washed them down with our perfectly mixed cans of mojitos that were the equivalent of £1. I know we said we were happy to have a blow out on this trip, but our cheap, shop-bought cans, went down a treat for the price. 

Exhausted, we crashed out early in the comfiest hostel beds ever, and slept solidly until the morning. Refreshed and ready to go, we took a taxi to La Fortuna’s bus terminal, and hopped on a bus to Monteverde. 

Which brings us to the third and final expense of our Costa Rican splash out. Another of Sam’s bright ideas, which I was in ninety percent in agreement with, and maybe ten percent apprehensive. Zip-lining through the canopy of Monteverde’s cloud forest. Sounds awesome, right? And it was, until we came to the last task. The Tarzan Swing. Why anybody would want to step off a platform, in the middle of the forest, and hope the wired contraption above does its job, and stops you plummeting to your death, is beyond me. Although I suppose some people could say this about the actual zip-lining, but this to me seems much easier. You have the option to break with your hand safely in a glove, and control your speed. The Tarzan Swing means putting all your faith in your own ability to be able to step off, by yourself. This is the part I struggle with.  

Getting ready for some rappelling. I wish there had been more of this included.

Sky diving: someone is strapped to you and they perform the ‘leap’ out of the plane. Easy. Tick. Did this in New Zealand a couple of years ago. 

Canyon swing: you are strapped to a wooden plank and someone ‘drops’ you into the canyon. Maybe. Could be pushing my boundaries. Not tried this yet. 

Bungee jumping: no explanation necessary. Absolutely not. No thanks. 

As you can probably gather, I was a big wimp and backed out of the Tarzan Swing. I promised Sam I would do it, but when the two Costa Ricans were rapidly clipping me to the ropey device that would ‘save my life’ as it pinged me into the air, I panicked. I’m pretty sure my fingers were crossed behind my back when I promised anyway. Sorry Sam!

Cheeky grin for the camera on a normal zip line

It sounds like I didn’t much like our zip-lining excursion doesn’t it? Well, that’s definitely not true. As I said, I was ninety percent sure of the whole idea. The eleven zip-lines were super fun, and we got to walk across some pretty lengthy hanging bridges that were high up in the trees, which I loved. Thankfully I don’t suffer from vertigo and I’m not afraid of heights. There was a bit of rappelling in the middle of the zip-lines, which was fun. But for me, the main events were the two Superman lines. 

Zipping through the cloud forest.

Our friendly, excitable, Costa Rican adrenaline junkies, strapped us to the wires, vertically. We had absolutely no control over any aspect of this zip-line. Our one job was to hold out our arms, like a plane, and let ourselves be pushed. Perfect. I didn’t have to make the move. 

It. Was. Awesome.  

You really do feel like you’re flying, swooping through the air, gazing down at the green, fuzzy rug-like treetops whizzing by below you. For a whole thirty seconds, you are a bird. 

Again, this was a $50 activity, and even though I chickened out of the swing of death, and I was only ninety percent game, it was one hundred percent worth it. Ironically, we went with 100% Aventura, a company I can highly recommend. Not once did I ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe in the presence of the guides, in fact, they were really comical and made the whole group feel at ease. 

Enjoying the moment

Costa Rica has everything. It is a place you can hike, explore, test your fears, or even relax on the coast with a cocktail. 

It’s expensive, but remember, it’s all relative. Just spend less in another country, and hey presto, you have a little more cash to play with in the heart of the Central American rainforest. 

This post was written to the sound of a contemporary mix of songs with a jazzy twist. The location was Goza Espresso Bar in Cuenca, Ecuador, also known as ‘Gringolandia’ by the locals. I had a double espresso. I never order single espressos.  

Destination Nicaragua – León

From Honduras, I travelled straight to León, a fairly small town in Nicaragua, but according to my new bank of knowledge, very popular with the tourists. This was one of the recommended backpacker hotspots, and true to form, Bigfoot Hostel (busy party hostel offering popular tours), and Via Via (hostel boasting a large bar and ample space for music and dancing), occupy the same street. I opted for a hostel just around the corner, complete with snoozing cat on the free-to-use pool table, and guaranteed quiet relaxing mornings. Las Vacaciones was away from the pumping centre, but still within walking distance of everything. You can’t beat a free breakfast of fluffy pancakes with fresh banana and maple syrup either.

  

The hostel feline, showing us how to relax

So, with my first full day in León ahead of me, I grabbed a free map from the information table. Eager to explore, but still a little nervous about strolling around Nicaragua, a place I had led myself to believe was riddled with crime and danger, I took out my trusty, fancy, black Bic Biro, and drew myself a route. I intended to visit all thirteen churches in one day, because that’s what I’m like. I’m a planner. I often feel a heavy guilt if I don’t see absolutely everything that a place has to offer. Naturally, I also needed to pinpoint where the best eateries were; never miss an opportunity to taste your way around a country.

Indio Viejo in Cocinarte vegetarian restaurant – a Nicaraguan dish that translates as ‘Old Indian’. Although this version is vegetarian, the stew-like dish originally contained any meats and vegetables that were native to the region.

With my map in hand, my ‘lifeline’ for the day, I opened the metal gate and stepped onto the street. It clunked heavily behind me, locking me out. The sun was rife. It was only ten in the morning, and it was hot. Thank goodness for factor seventy sun lotion.

Keen to get moving, I started to follow my intended route, towards the first attraction. Now I may not be the most religious person around, in fact, I’m not religious at all, but I do have the ability to appreciate breathtaking architecture when I stumble upon it. And in Nicaragua, this is not hard to find. After a simple, less-than-five-minutes walk from my hostel, I turned a corner, and there, in front of me, wedged between two exposed red-brick bell towers, was Iglesia El Calvario, a masterfully painted, beautifully bright, yellow church. Unfortunately, it was not open at the time, so I marvelled at the skilfully painted religious murals on the front of the building; above the door, central and proud, was Jesus’ portrait, nailed to the cross. I tried to imagine the ornate and antique treasures that might be inside. Little did I know, the interior may not have been as grand as I was dreaming.

Aside: apologies for the lack of photo here, a lot of my León snaps are on my camera memory card, which has already made the journey back to the UK. Please follow this link to the Iglesias El Calvario Trip Advisor page where you can view other travellers’ photos.

While admiring the façade, I was joined by an Asian family who were also touring the town, following the same map. It was the first time I started to feel at ease in Nicaragua. This was the moment that I stopped fretting and allowed myself to sink into the pleasures of being a stranger in a foreign country.

Next stop was Central Park. No, not the New York City kind, but the Central American kind. Every major town/city seems to have one. Even the tiny island of Flores in Guatemala had a mini Parque Central. Don’t be deceived by the word ‘parque’, though. They’re not the kind of place you roll around in the sunshine and get grass stains over your summer frock. Most of them are concrete jungles teeming with merchants, locals and tourists. Generally the main centrepiece of each square is the biggest religious building of the area. The cathedral. And León’s is pretty spectacular.

Front of the Cathedral in Parque Central

Extract from the twenty-thirteen Lonely Planet’s Central America on a Shoestring: ‘The cathedral was having a face-lift at press time but should be completed by the time you read this.’

Well their prediction was seventy-five percent close. When I was there in November, the front of the building looked sparkling, straight out of the packet, brand new; you almost needed your sunglasses to look directly at it. But one of the sides hadn’t been touched by even the slightest lick of paint yet, and the opposite side to that still had scaffolding scaling the side of it.

Untouched side of the cathedral with the original lion statues

At this rate, I don’t even think the Cathedral’s restoration will be complete by the time the updated edition of the Lonely Planet is released.

Repairs aside, I sat down under the shade of a tree in the park and studied the spruced up cathedral. Upon reflection and a closer examination, I noticed that the tops of the bell towers were already falling victim to weathering. The mixture of humidity, scorching heat and damaging rain can’t be easy to contend with. 

As was to be expected, the inside of the cathedral does not disappoint, and not because it is adorned with riches and expensive décor, in fact, the interior is quite plain. Finally. There are a few flashes of gold paint here and there, but most of the walls are a neutral off-white, complimenting the clean stone flooring (Nicaraguan’s are forever sweeping). 



Inside the cathedral. This is one of the only golden treasures I have seen in the Central American places of worship

An 0pinionated aside: Something that bothered me when I was in South East Asia, was how elaborately decorated their places of worship are; absolutely bursting with golden Buddhas, ornate furnishings, and ancient precious jewels behind glass casing. Yes, they are beautiful spaces to enjoy, but you are then expected to leave offerings and donations all over the place. I would often see people that were obviously living in poor conditions, giving away precious coins to their faith, when they probably needed it for more pressing amenities, like food. I don’t disagree with the concept of religion, because I believe that everyone has a right to be able to seek comfort from wherever they choose, but I disagree with the way it has become such a heavily money orientated society. The simplicity of León’s grand cathedral took me by pleasant surprise.

In time, I have learnt that most of the churches in Central America share the same simple and clean interior, and I like it. The space is always airy, the ceilings high, and the people are friendly. Nobody badgers you for donations or payment. Wandering in and out of these religious spaces is relaxing and enjoyable.

You can pay a small fee to explore the roof of the cathedral

León isn’t all about churches and cathedrals. Oh no. It’s also about ice cream. A couple of blocks away from the hostel is a little haven called Kiss Me, where they sell the most delicious vodka sorbet. If you’re cheeky, like me, you can ask for a couple of samples before you choose your poison. I went for the luminous purple dragonfruit, teaming it with the super sweet, refreshing, passionfruit sorbet. And the cone is homemade, so naturally I opted for full frozen euphoria.

Me eating sorbet from Kiss Me.

It was over in minutes.

The oppressive thirty-two degree heat was not going to let me eat my treat in peace. Before I knew it, I had sticky purple juice dribbling down my hand, like a child. But it was all ‘oh so’ worth it.

So what is the big draw to a town of religious architecture? Why do backpackers flock there? You’ll never guess so I’ll just tell you.

If you pay around $20-$25, you can book a tour in which you drag a plank of wood up a volcano for an hour. Super exciting, eh? Well actually, it is. Cerro Negro is active, and once you get near the top, you can feel it’s heat if by hovering your hand above the black sand. You can’t get too close to the crater’s edge, but you can get close enough to smell the sulphurous fumes it emits.

At the summit of Cerro Negro

So that pesky wooden board. Why did our group adorn ourselves with such a burden? You may have guessed already. It was our ticket down. We shimmied into big oversized blue boiler suits, pinged on a pair of goggles and put on some handy, if a little over-used, somewhat protective, gloves. Our guides demonstrated the movements for speed, slowing down, breaking and turning, although I can tell you now, the manoeuvring is s lightly more complicated than they let on. Just plan on going straight and you’ll be fine.

Walking up the volcano with our boards

I was the last of the group to sit on the board and ready myself for the signal (our guide had positioned himself halfway down and would wave his hat when the path was clear). Annoyingly, I had to wait an unbearably long time, because the girl that went before me seemed to struggle to get going, or actually, move at all. I reckon she dragged herself the whole way down the volcano with her feet.

Our guide explaining the rules of volcano boarding

The white hat flicked into the air, so I lent back and I lifted my legs. The board slid over the sand with ease and it wasn’t long before I started picking up some decent speed. I’m not normally much of an adrenaline junkie, but I’m trying to stop being a wimp with activities like this, so I put all my trust into the board, and my ability to break if necessary.

In no time at all, I was bombing past the guide, waving to his video camera. But the joy of the speed and the blustery wind on my face was short-lived. The girl in front of me still hadn’t reached the bottom of the volcano. I tried to turn with my feet, but I just kept going straight. Before it was too late I slammed my feet deep into the black sand and stopped. I waited about ten more minutes before I could continue my decent, all hope of a clear run behind me.

Our volcano boarding group

To this day, I’m a little frustrated that my own volcano boarding experience had been tainted, especially as it was something I happened to be quite good at. So whenever someone asks me if I did it in Nicaragua, I just say, ‘yeah, it was so awesome!’ And I leave it at that.

And you know, it was, I truly loved it. I would have dragged that board up Cerro Negro for another hour and done it again if I could.

Back in León, I washed three times in the shower to scrub all the sand out of my hair and off my body. I had a lovely chill in the hostel and found some cheap delicious, if a little oversized, street food for my evening meal. I ate half of the monster portion and had the rest bundled up in a banana leaf before heading to the cinema to watch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Just like a local.

Pre-cinema street food of chicken, caramelised plantain, salad, rice and beans, all for £3
This post was written to a mixture of Ellie Goulding’s albums on my iPod while flying from Costa Rica to Mexico City. I finished and tweaked it during my flight from Mexico City to Lima the following day. During this moment, as I complete the post, I am listening to Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve.

Planning and prepping for an adventure

How do you decide where to go? Is it within your budget? What public transport options are available? Will it be dangerous? Can I travel solo? What activities can I do there?

You can take risks and travel smart at the same time. It’s a skill that’s taken a long time to develop and nurture, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. That is, until the next series of mishaps, which let’s face it, are unavoidable. There’s no such thing as perfection in the world of travel.

When we dream about visiting faraway lands, we can sometimes let excitement cloud our judgement. The adrenaline we feel when deciding what plane ticket to buy, can cause us to forget that some trips require a bit more planning than simply bashing your credit card details into the internet. The world is only your ‘oyster’ until something goes wrong.

So with seven countries and six months behind me, it’s time to reflect on where I have been and how I executed my route; and I must be doing something right, because I’m still happy, healthy and bobbing from place to place.

First of all, you need to know that I am guilty of almost skipping Nicaragua. Shocked? In hindsight, I am appalled at myself. 

Here’s my story:

Way back when, in the first quarter of twenty-sixteen, I started researching my trip. I’d purchased my one-way ticket to Toronto and had further plans to visit my friend while he was in Mexico City, so what next? I bought both Lonely Planet’s trusty Central And South America on a Shoestring guidebooks, because that seemed like the natural root from Mexico.

Handy smartphone and tablet friendly PDF copy of Lonely Planet’s Central America on a Shoestring 

“Is it safe?”

“I don’t know, Mum, I haven’t researched yet.”

“Be sensible, Lauren. You’re a single female traveller this time.”

And of course, she was right. Mum normally is.

Cue Facebook message from said parent: You’ve made a typo in your latest blog post. You put ‘normally’ instead of ‘always’. Don’t worry, I’ll let you off.

I instantly plunged into the depths of the internet and googled the logistics of travelling through Latin America. Once I owned those travel books, I was determined.

In the UK, our ‘go-to’ website for this kind of information is the government travel website, as it’s supposed to be accurate and is regularly updated. Most of the countries seemed to throw up the usual issues, such as petty crimes, mugging, drug trafficking etc. ‘Exercise caution as you would at home’. But Nicaragua appeared to showcase a few more issues than this, so many in fact, that I didn’t bother reading the majority of the negative essays attached to each link. So I promised that I wouldn’t go; I intended to pass straight through and head to Costa Rica.

Upon starting my journey through Central America, as is to be expected, I met many backpackers that had commenced their travels as far South as Panama, and were making their way to Mexico. In the cosy common areas of hostels, we would share our experiences and offer lists composed of our near-future wanderlust plans. Every time I mentioned skipping Nicaragua, I received many different reactions, the only element they had in common was negativity.

“But why?”

“You can’t, it’s amazing.”

“You’ll be missing so much!”

I felt the excitement for my chosen route diminish. Rapidly. I pleaded with these like-minded free spirits; “but it isn’t safe, right? Especially for a lone female traveler? Isn’t there too much unrest? Too much crime?” Again, those disapproving looks.

Loaded with new information and stories of golden experiences, I battled with my inner-being. Do I stay on track, or do I cut my planned two weeks of diving in Honduras? Should I set foot in a completely unknown (I hadn’t even bothered reading the Nicaraguan section of the guidebook) and previously off-limits land? Do I break my promise?

I broke my promise.

Carrying a plank of wood up a volcano in Nicaragua. Why? Blog post to follow…

Like a kitten with a saucer of milk, I drank the precious knowledge in the Lonely Planet and roughly planned a route through the country.

“Mum, I’ve decided to see Nicaragua.”

“But it’s not safe.”

“It’s fine, there’s hundreds of backpackers doing it, I’ve met loads of them.”

Traditional Nicaraguan dancing. Both performers are men

I can’t quite remember how I convinced her, I’m not sure if I ever did, not until I was on the other side, travelling to Costa Rica.

“Your photos are amazing, I might look into visiting Nicaragua.”

“You definitely should, Mum, it’s breathtaking.”

The food is pretty breathtaking too

In non-scientific, completely opinion-based conclusion, what I’m trying to stress here, is not that we should ignore travel advice, or rush off around the world without a thought for personal safety, but we should definitely be more open-minded about where we plan to leave our footprints.

Artisan bus shop at Zopilote Eco Village on Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua

Here’s what I’ve learnt:

• Read the ‘dangers and annoyances’ sections of guidebooks. They are written by travel experts for a reason.
• Read blogs and get a snapshot of other people’s experiences.
• Make and share your own opinions. If you go to a country and you don’t feel safe, leave.
• As much as I value the UK government website, I recommend using with caution. I’m probably going to put it in my, ‘things to be aware of’, pile of notes, rather than make a decision based purely on this information.
• Use your common sense.
• Be aware of world affairs.

Nicaragua has so far turned out to be my favourite Central American country. I did not feel threatened or out of my depth, the people are very friendly and helpful, and the public transport is easy to navigate. If you do not know any Spanish, you can rock up to a bus station, say your destination in a questioning tone, and someone will definitely point you in the right direction. Of course you still need to have your wits about you, but this probably applies in your own country, too; so why would you let your guard down anywhere else?

Enjoying a sleepy chicken bus ride with the locals

This post was written to the deep base of semi-rap/hip-hop/Caribbean mix of music in Roadshack Deli in Uvita, Costa Rica. I ordered a veggie burger with a mix of potato, yuka, and plantain fries. I left the bun.



So what did I see below Utila’s ocean surface?

I wasn’t able to get a lasting image of everything I saw, so I’ll tag a link to the World Wide Web where there is no personal photography. 

The content description of each photo can be found directly below it.

Parrot Fish – difficult to get a photo of these fish because as soon as they see you, they bolt.

Mangrove Upsidedown Jellyfish – you can lift this guy up and watch the many tentacles wriggle around as it makes its way back to the seabed.

Flamingo Tounge (mollusc) – I have some very blurred photos of these, but they’re not WordPress worthy in my opinion.

Pederson Cleaner Shrimp – it took me about eight dive attempts to get a decent photo of these shrimps, they’re so tiny that the camera never seemed to be able to focus on them.

Scarlet-Striped Cleaner Shrimp – these are the kinds of shrimp you might find on sale in your local pet store.

Giant Hermit Crab – this crustacean has a pretty impressive house on its back.

Channel Clinging Crab – this guy would look really great on a plate with some home cooked sweet potato wedges. What? Who said that?

Caribbean Spiny Lobster – I do have a picture of this particular lobster but he’s hiding, so you can only see his, ‘whiskers’, as I like to call them.

Spotted Spiny Lobster – we saw a couple of these during our night dive when they’re most active. The light from the torches made it seem like they were emitting neon blue lights from the surface of their shells. Our own underwater silent disco.

Squirrelfish – these are everywhere among Uvita’s reefs, but for some reason, I don’t have a photograph.

Lionfish – these fish are beautiful, and deadly. I remember seeing my first one in Thailand. We were warned not to go near it because of the poison in its spines. We left it be. However, in Honduras, lionfish are not a welcome species. They started appearing and rapidly breeding, creating an imbalance in the marine life. They prey on a plethora the smaller fish that reside on the reef. Divers in Utila have permission to kill any lionfish that they see. I had a delightful lionfish ceviche while I was on the island.

Spotted Drum – this little critter would not sit still for its photo. They sort of wiggle  rather than swim, their long fins reminded me of a flag in the wind.

Frog fish – I did not have my GoPro with me during this dive because the casing kept flooding. The whole dive team were excited about spotting a frog fish, because they are virtually impossible to see. They are often completely camouflaged with their surroundings. They’re quite the ugly looking specimen, too.

Spotted Scorpionfish – please ignore the quality of this image. I have now purchased red filters for my GoPro so I can take brighter and more colourful snaps.

Spiny Flounder – can you spot it?! I hope so, it’s one of my better, non-blurry, images.

Shortfin Pipefish – again, excuse the blur. And I promise you this is not a stick.

Longsnout Seahorse – we were fortunate enough to see three of these beautiful creatures. An orange one, a yellow one and a black one, two of which were pregnant. 

Porcupinefish – I always look at these fish and think they just look super angry.

Sharpnose Puffer – do not eat me! I’m highly poisonous.

Smooth Trunkfish – these were also quite difficult to catch on camera, but they’re pretty much everywhere around Utila so I had lots of opportunities. This was my best snap out of about thirty.

Black Grouper – these fish look big and angry, but they’re harmless. Well the one we encountered was.

Trumpetfish – we saw lots of these, and the sign language underwater is literally the motion of playing a trumpet. Simple is effective.

Barracuda – I saw some small barracuda in Thailand, but the one we found in Utila was much bigger.

Brown Garden Eels – look closely to the rear of the image and you’ll spot them. These eels are hilarious. Their bodies are buried below the sand and they poke their heads out above the bed. It’s quite difficult to take a photo of them because as soon as you approach, they disappear; like they’re being sucked into the earth. They made me laugh out loud. Is this even possible underwater? I’ve added a link to this description, too, as someone has managed to sneak a lot closer than I.

Green Moray – these are amazing to watch. They snake their bodies in and around the coral, so you can normally only see their heads. I managed to find one that was completely exposed; a real treat.

Spotted Eagle Ray – this was one of our best dives. We didn’t just see one Eagle Ray, we found three, swimming together, which is apparently quite unusual. Such a lucky day.

Southern Stingray – unfortunately I don’t have a photo of this beautiful creature, and I am gutted, because rays are my favourite ocean dweller. Nevermind, next time.

Hawksbill Turtle – fortunately, I had my GoPro with me during this dive. I’ve seen so many photos of sea turtles on other people’s social media and have always been jealous. So I’ve finally seen one in the wild, with my own eyes.

Gray Angelfish – I really liked taking pictures of the Angelfish. This one quietly swam around and ignored me rather than bolting as soon as it sensed my presence.

Sergeant Major – these fish would often shoal around the boat, so I took a quick snap before surfacing. 

Chain Moray Eel – I got quite close to this eel, but when we surfaced I was told that it could have snapped the camera straight out of my hand. Oops!

Nurse Shark – I saw this amazing creature on my birthday. It was the best dive and the best present ever. Again, forgetting about all aspects of personal safety, I tried to get as close as possible for the best photo, and it paid off, kind of. I’ll add a link to this one so you can see it in its full glory.

Bearded Toadfish – this guy was so camouflaged that the camera wouldn’t focus on him, good old modern technology was more interested in the background coral.

Caribbean Reef Squid – we spotted this shoal of Squid just as we were about to surface, so we hung around to watch them swim around the bottom of the boat. As we hovered, the squid, in perfect unison, all turned to look at us. It was very bizarre and eerie. Nobody knew how to react. Luckily, they just swam on their way.

Banded Coral Shrimp – it is easier to see these during a night dive because the light from the torches makes their eyes light up in the dark. A bit like a cat in headlights.


This blog post was written among the gentle buzz of the relaxing Tucan Hotel atmosphere in Uvita, Costa Rica.

My brief encounter with Guatemala

As the shuttle bus from the Mexican border rattled down a myriad unpaved roads, I could already see that the people of Guatemala are hard-workers with a clear understanding of what it means to relax. Every house we passed had a plot of well-tended farmland and at least one hammock swinging in the porch. To me, this is symbolic of perfect life balance, something that we can’t quite grasp in the UK. I am guilty of this. I could learn a thing or two from the Latin American lifestyle, and fully intend to give it a go when I return home. My friends will no doubt laugh at this statement. The word ‘relax’ is a crinkly burn hole in my personal dictionary. 

Typical Guatemalan house

I loved the drive between the Frontera Corozal border and Flores. First of all, the bizarre crossing involved stamping out of Mexico on one side of the Usumacinta River, crossing the body of water by boat, then taking a twenty minute bus journey to a little house in the middle of nowhere and stamping into Guatemala. The immigration building looked like an oversized outhouse. Not to mention that the twenty minutes it took us to get there meant we were kind of in no-mans-land type territory. It was also the most hassle-free border crossing I’ve ever encountered. We took a bathroom break and exchanged our Pesos for Quetzals while an array of ducklings, dogs and cats roamed around our feet. 

Onwards, the bus jumped and hopped about the road, past fields of brightly dressed Guatemalans tending their crops, carrying bulging fresh vegetable baskets on their heads. This is a land where chickens roam free and the odd peacock may sprint across the road. Groups of children stared at our white faces as we blurred by, knowing that we were different, excited by the exotic.

Abundance of watermelons 

Content to be travelling with warm air whipping through the open windows, I could feel the dust settling in my matted curls. I dozed and reminisced of my time in South-East Asia, just for a moment, before waking up and returning to this new continent I was ready to explore. 

So there I was, just passing through Guatemala; a quick two day stint. Ridiculous, I know. So I can’t really give you much detail about the country itself, but I can tell you that you should definitely go to Tikal. It isn’t one of the new Seven World Wonders like Chichén Itzá (see Mexico post #2), but it is one hundred percent worth visiting. It is a Mayan ruin in the middle of the jungle. Why wouldn’t you want to explore somewhere that boasts magical misty mornings and the sightings of monkeys?

Gran Plaza of Tikal

I’ll start with the boring bits. When you get to Flores or Santa Elena, a lot of tour companies try to sell you the ‘sunrise’ and ‘sunset’ tours. They cost around twenty bucks for transport and a guide, but that does not include your entrance fees into the park. That will set you back another thirty-three bucks. It very much depends on the time of year as to whether it’s worth doing the sunrise or sunset, because if the sky is dull and clouds are abundant, there won’t be either phenomenon for you to enjoy.  

The day I went, I spent thirty-three US dollars on transport, tour guide and entrance fee. I got to the park at six in the morning and the guide took us around until about ten-thirty. After the tour we were given the freedom to walk around the park with several shuttle options back to Flores. This, in my opinion, is the best deal. I would have been completely wasting my money if I’d booked the sunrise tour, because the dense fog completely hindered any view of the promised pretty reds and yellows that are advertised at every corner in Flores.

The highlight of Tikal is walking up the very convenient wooden staircase to the top of sixty-four metre high Templo IV. We did this around seven-thirty in the morning and were greeted with a heavy mist-cloud that hid the entire site. Staring peacefully into the white abyss, I started hearing gasps and murmurs from the rest of the tour group. The cloud was dispersing and the wonders of Tikal emerged in slow-motion, like a blooming flower on a crisp spring morning. I watched as Templo I, II and III revealed themselves, peaking out above the jungle canopy. The Mayans certainly knew how to create breathtaking views of their sacred spaces. We stayed atop that temple until the clouds – the mystical dew of the canopy – completely disappeared and all that could be seen was the perfect partnership of unruly forest and crumbling ruins.

View of Templo I, II and III from Templo IV

Besides those wow moments when you go to world famous ancient sites, there are often little exciting wildlife surprises that crop up, for example, when exploring the small-scale ruins of Tulum in Mexico, I came across a number of wild sunbathing iguanas, which, for someone who has always wanted her own cold-blooded critter, was a creature comfort bonus. But what I saw in Tikal was actually spine tinglingly, stomach churningly, (disclaimer – I made this word up. But it fits, and I like it) disgusting. I give you, the wild king of the eight legged world:

Wild tarantula 

Yep. My insides screwed up like a discarded Coke can. I simply cannot comprehend why this group of people would want to hold that fuzzy black… thing. I feel sick as I am writing this paragraph. So I am done.

On the plus side, Tikal’s jungle is also home to mischievous monkeys that are prime entertainment while you prop yourself against a tree and relax with your lunch.

Behind Templo II

If you intend to visit the ruins, you should stay on the pretty idyllic island of Flores. Don’t worry, you don’t have to think about getting a boat to an island with your twenty kilo backpack, you can just hop on a tuktuk from the bus station and ride across the bridge from the mainland. Simple.

The promenade of Flores

If you’re on a budget, like my backpacker wallet, don’t fret. There’s a couple of hostels on the island that are super affordable. Just don’t expect hot water at Yaxha. There is a sign in the bathroom that says the water is heated by the shower head. It isn’t. In fact, don’t expect hot water in Central America. Full stop. Oh apart from Costa Rica, you might be lucky there.

Flores is a small island that you can stroll around in roughly twenty to thirty minutes. If you make your way to the West, you can buy a colourful plate of salads, salsas and tortillas for as little as ten quetzals (the equivalent of one pound) and a massive slab of homemade cake for the same price. You can then sit on the steps, listen to the water lapping against the shore and the soft clunk of the moored boats against the wall. If you’re lucky, and the weather is playing fair, you will witness the sky as it transcends from blue, to orange, to a black canvas of stars.

Watching the sunset in Flores

At six o’ clock the following morning, I left Guatemala and continued towards the island of Utila in Honduras. Everyone I have spoken to on the other side of those two magical days, has said that I’ve missed way too much. What a shame, I will just have to come back.

This post was written to the buzz of backpacker conversations in a hostel in Granada, Nicaragua. 

Chichén Itzá – A wonder of the modern world

As mentioned in my previous post about Mexico, I zipped across the country to Cancun in order to explore the Yucatan Peninsula, not, I repeat, not, to experience the famous Coco Bongo nightclub in Zona Hotelera. I often say to myself, ‘just do it, when are you going to be in this corner of the world again?’, but any backpacker who pays eighty bucks for a ticket (not including drinks), is utterly bongo bonkers in my opinion. I’m not normally negative in my blog posts, but Zona Hotelera is a big, commercial, expensive, hot mess. This wasn’t one of those ‘just do it’ moments.

Outside Coco Bongo

I admit that we weren’t entirely cultural when we arrived in Cancun. Some fellow travellers and I sailed straight to Isla Mujeres for a day trip to the beach. The sun was out to play, and the sea was waving, enticing us with its twinkly surface and clear visibility. A beautiful combination after ten days in the sporadically changing climate of Mexico City, where, by the way, I managed to catch my first hostel-induced cold, so the vitamin D was a welcome change.

Sunset at Isla Mujeres

As lovely as drinking frozen piña coladas on a tropical island was, it was back to the mainland for a decent night of sleep. We had some more important matters to attend to. Visiting Chichén Itzá.

The tiresome four hour bus journey took us across a time zone, so we managed to gain an extra hour inside the ruins, which was definitely needed. The site is doable in a day, but it’s very spread out, and not as shady as some of the other ruins around Mexico, so be prepared. A word of advice: pack sun cream, plenty of water, and some snacks; there are no food stalls inside.

My first impression, as we walked down a path lined with local merchants selling the usual cheap knock-off ceramic Mayan calendars, was that it was a total tourist trap. But picture this – stroll down the middle of the path, ignore the desperate voices of, ‘you like magnets lady? Very cheap, almost one dollar’, and emerge into an open green majestic plaza. Standing proud in the middle of the complex is the the twenty-four meter tall Kukulkan Pyramid, also known as, El Castillo. 

El Castillo at the end of the day – not a tourist in sight

It was granted the status of a Modern Wonder in 2007. And I can see why. In its current 2016 state, the towering temple looks immaculately preserved. With a little internet research, I discovered that, as the result of a tragic accident, the pyramid’s staircase was officially closed to the public in 2006. After years of tourists trudging up and down the monument in their thousands, the inevitable wear and tear of the steps began to take its toll, and eventually, a woman slipped on a smooth stone and fell to her death.

On one hand, I am pleased that the importance of health and safety, and the longevity of the Pyramid, has been taken seriously after this incident. But I can’t help feeling disappointed that I am unable to explore the temple that rests atop the structure, to visit the red jaguar throne inside. However, as someone who likes to practise and encourage eco-tourism, I understand that the earth’s natural elements alone can be enough of an unforgivable force when it comes to the act of preservation, let alone the unnecessary heavy stomps of tourist crowds.

You’ll spot various preserved carvings all over Chichén Itzá

Besides, there’s plenty more to see around this ancient city. My favourite ruin was Gran Juego de Pelota (Great Ball Court), probably because I’m a massive rugby-nut and I love a good stadium. Apparently, (I say this because it was impossible to test the theory with so many people milling around) if you talk at one end of the court, a person stood at the other end will be able to hear you. Many people have attempted to fathom the secrets behind the acoustics of this special sports ground, but to this day, it remains a mystery. The court itself is two hundred and twenty-five feet wide, and five hundred feet long.

The length of the ball court. Photo courtesy of Ben Norris.

Many different games have been played on these grounds over the years, but the aim of the most well-known version, was to shoot a rubber ball into the stone hoops that are carved into each of the longest sides of the court. Competitors were not allowed to use their hands, so it is believed that they passed the ball between their hips, and possibly used their elbows and knees. Did I mention that the hoops were so high that the game was virtually impossible? Although it was played for fun, it was often played for ritualistic purposes. Research indicates that the captain of the losing team would be presented with the task of decapitating the captain of the winning team. Crazy right? Well not to the Mayans, for they believed that winning was the ultimate honour, and so you were rewarded with the pathway to peaceful heaven through a simple sacrificial ceremony.

Oh, the losing team were sacrificed too. Because they lost.

The ‘goal’ hoop and the ‘royal box’ of the ball court. Photo courtesy of Ben Norris.

Beyond the wow factor of El Castillo and the shocking facts of the ball court, Chichén Itzá has so many beautiful ruins to explore. Interestingly, the naturally formed Cenote Sagrado (Sacred Cenote) was also used for sacrificial ceremonies. According to my trusty Lonely Planet Central America on a Shoestring guidebook, archaeological dive expeditions have uncovered human remains of those that were forced to jump into the ‘eternal underworld’.

Cenote Sagrado

These historical sites would not be complete without a carving or two, so if you have the opportunity to visit these sacred grounds, don’t miss the Grupo de las Mil Columnas (Group of a Thousand Columns). Take your time, and look closely at the Mayan handicraft as you wander through the labyrinth of ruins. You should be able to decipher a number of Gods and Mayan warriors within the artistic scars of the stone.

Grupo de las Mil Columnas

I am very fortunate to have been able to experience a modern world wonder, and shall endeavour to visit as many, if not all, in my lifetime. Oh, and I was with two awesome, like-minded travellers, which always makes a day of touring even more rewarding.

Posing outside El Caracol (The Observatory) with Ben Norris, Andrés Home and Morgan Bear. Note: Andrés’ peace sign is not to be confused with the English meaning…

This post was written to the sound of an overly excited Spanish football commentator and the ear-splitting screams of a Costa Rican female supporter, complete with bright yellow football kit.

Teotihuacan – my first glimpse into the Pre-Hispanic

Like most tours, we were first taken to a place just outside Teotihuacan so we could be taught about different Mexican handicrafts from around the region. This type of inclusion is normally to encourage you to spend money on their premises, and don’t get me wrong, it was, but then we were also shown the many uses of the agave plant, which I, naturally, mis-took for an aloe vera plant. 

A species of maguey (agave) – the magical plant of many properties

I often use agave sweetener in my own cooking, but what I didn’t realise is that it is also used in the production of Mexico’s most favourite tipples, mezcal (a variety of tequila), and pulque, a milky-white liquor. Mezcal is produced by cooking the heart of the agave, primarily the Agave Azul, whereas pulque is mainly brewed via a fermentation process of the sap from six different types of maguey (agave).  

Stripping the leaf to make a sheet of paper

The plant itself has a very sharp tip at the end of its thick green leaves, which can be extracted simply by pulling it out. The whole needle emerges complete with the thread dangling down. The leaves can also be stripped down and used in cooking, or as paper, ropes and fabrics. None of the plant is wasted. Genius.

Needle and thread from the leaf of the agave

I can’t speak for everyone in the group, but I personally found all this rather fascinating, that is, until we had the opportunity to sample their indigenous pulque, which left a bitter yeast taste in my mouth. I was advised that it tastes better when accompanied with fruits or other added beverages, but I’m still not convinced.

After a quick tour around the silver and pottery artisan workshops, we were ushered into the obligatory shop selling local handmade crafts. One person was tempted into the world of Mezcal and purchased a bottle, but beyond that, they received nada from us.

On arrival at the ancient city of Teotihuacan, we were greeted by the ear-splitting sound of a distressed jaguar. Local street vendors wandered around the site trying to sell these wooden whistles that created the hideous sound. It took quite a lot of polite willpower not to ask them to bugger off. I don’t mind people trying to sell me bracelets, or sunglasses, or even a hammock – although how most backpackers are supposed to be able to store them while travelling around the world is beyond me – but these whistles didn’t even sound like a jaguar. Anyway, I did my best to block out the cacophony of howls so I could listen to the guide as he attempted to explain the history of Teotihuacan using the best English he could muster. 

Tourists and street vendors at the site entrance

And what a fascinating place to explore. Teotihuacan is an ancient Pre-Columbian (literally translates to ‘before Christopher Columbus) city that was built entirely by hand, though the origins of its developers remains a mystery. Evidence suggests that the site was abandoned around seven-hundred and fifty BC, and then claimed by the Aztecs, although Mayan and Zapotec texts have been discovered around the site.

The ruined city

The main attractions of the ancient city are the Pyramid of the Sun and the Moon, and the Temple of the God, Quetzalcoatl.

A geek’s aside: if you grew up playing the video game, Final Fantasy VIII, you’ll remember the use of this mythical creature as a powerful lightning force. True to the game’s representation, the God was depicted as a bird slash rattlesnake hybrid who’s name literally translates as ‘emerald plumed serpent’. However, it is suggested that he was the God of wind and rain, not lightning. He was also believed to be the God that created mankind and the calendar.

When you first enter the grounds, you come to the Temple of Quetzalcoatl himself. It is an outstandingly well preserved pyramid that you cannot climb, but there is a viewing platform for you to admire the façade. Somehow, many of the alternating sculptures of the plumed serpent and the crocodile head, complete with headdress, have survived the unkind years of human destruction and natural weathering. This type of admirable artwork often gives me goosebumps. I stand there and imagine who might have carved them, and how long it would have taken to capture the deities in such vivid three dimensional detail.

The astonishingly preserved Pyramid of the Plumed Serpent

Next stop is the Pyramid of the Sun. Visitors are invited to climb the steep steps to the very top of this structure in order to get a birds-eye view of the whole site, which is obviously very cool, but still not my favourite part of the tour. 

Pyramid of the Sun

Atop the Pyramid of the Sun – enjoying the view of the Pyramid of the Moon

Even though you’re only able to climb up to the first platform of the Temple of the Moon, from this point, you are presented with a perfect view of the entire city and the Avenue of the Dead. Some believe it was named this due to the tomb-like structures lining the road, but if you ask me, which I wouldn’t, because I’m not a historian, it was more likely because of the many sacrificial religious rituals and offerings that were made in the area. 

View from the Pyramid of the Moon – The Avenue of the Dead

Under the Pyramid of the Moon alone, archaeologists have discovered several human sacrifices, including children, at the base of the structure. If you’re into a bit of gore, head to the Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City to view the remains of those unfortunate souls.


I could have stood at the top of the Moon for the rest of the afternoon, just staring down the avenue and picturing the thousands that once lived there. But alas! Lunchtime was calling, so the guide ushered us back into the van and sped us towards the overpriced restaurant a few kilometres away. I refused to pay for the expensive not very appetising all-you-can-eat buffet and opted to try a lovely bowl of cactus soup instead. Delicious.

This post was written to the sounds of Maroon 5 during a nine hour bus journey from Granada in Nicaragua, to San José in Costa Rica.

My Love Affair with Washington DC

A pleasant surprise

When I booked a one-way ticket to Toronto, I thought, okay, I’ll start off slow, take some time out, visit some friends, a couple of weeks in Canada, a month or so in New York City, then get back into the grit of backpacking, head to South America, and get my relaxed self back into the crazy world of hosteling. Three months later and I’ve visited 4 Canadian States and 10 US States. This is way more than I bargained for, and it’s all down to the amazing accommodating friends that I have visited, all of which are now family to me. So thank you to everyone that has been part of this not so relaxed whirlwind.

Don’t worry, the reason I’m writing to you today isn’t to present you with a soppy Oscar speech, it’s to reflect on my favourite place so far.

During a trip to my friend David’s hometown in Virginia, I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to visit Washington DC on three occasions. Naturally, I was desperate to see the monuments. David’s sister, Katie, drove us to a parking garage near the Capitol Building so we could loop around the whole National Mall. She warned me that it would be a lot of walking, but this didn’t phase a Fitbit obsessive who tends to avoid any transport that does not involve using her own legs.

The Capitol Building, like most of the monuments, is a bright white structure supported by an array of columns. It’s situated directly opposite the Lincoln Memorial at the other end of the National Mall. It’s a pretty building, but it doesn’t have the ‘wow factor’ for me, probably because you can’t get close enough to really appreciate the architecture.

Capitol Building

I do however, recommend checking out the Botanic Garden. Guarding the entrance to the conservatory, is a wiggly brown tentacled metal sculpture. It reminded me of a kraken or mythical creature from a Japanese Anime, but really it just represents the roots of a tree. You may have to patiently wait for a class of school children to stop climbing all over it to get a good photo, though. Inside, the garden is sectioned off into different categories of plants/areas of the world, like a mini version of Cornwall’s Eden Project. Did you know that cocoa pods actually grow from the trunk of the tree? I also found it amusing that they were growing Cabbage on a Stick and Pumpkin on a Stick. High five America.

Cabbage on a Stick

Pumpkin-on-a-Stick

After our short trip around the natural world, we continued our historic journey until we came to a tired, yet fully functional, carousel. This extra-ordinary carousel marked the end of segregation when eleven month old, African American, Sharon Langley, took a whirl on that magical roundabout; the same day that Martin Luther King, Jr belted out his, I have a dream, speech. The carousel is now enjoyed by people of all ages, shapes, sizes, colours, cultures… Everyone! This history was all very interesting and serious, until I read the first of the Rider Rules:

That was it. Game over. Hilarity won.

I feel very fortunate that I was able to explore DC with someone who had worked in the area and has an true interest in its history. The passion that Katie has for sharing her knowledge is infectious. I could feel my brain sponge working overtime to absorb as much information as possible, eager to make the most of my private tour.

Now we’ll move onto the good stuff. You can pretty much see the Washington Monument from anywhere in the city. DC law states that no building is permitted to be constructed taller than the five hundred and fifty-five foot obelisk; so you won’t find a stuffy high rise metropolis here. One of my favourite facts about the monument is that it is two-toned in colour. Six years after the commencement of the construction in 1848, it was halted due to lack of funding. Around a quarter of it had been completed. The money sucking American Civil War pushed the construction back even further. It wasn’t until 1884 that the monument was completed, and on 21 February 1885, it was dedicated to the first President of the United States, Mr George Washington. The bottom quarter of the obelisk is a darker stone than the rest of the structure due to the elapsed time and different sources of marble used; a constant reminder/symbol of the wartime effect.

Morgan Bear loved the iconic obelisk

A post about Washington DC would not be worth the read if good ol’ Lincoln and Jefferson were not discussed. Towards the other end of the National Mall, we came to a fork in our path. A bit of extra walking wasn’t going to deter a Fitbit freak like me, so we opted for the route that opens out onto the track that loops around the Tidal Basin of Potomac Park. Towering above the edge of the North bank is the gift of Japan – cherry blossom trees. Katie excitedly described the Spring season where they would bloom, unashamedly admiring their own pink reflections in the water below. Directly opposite, is the Jefferson Memorial. Proudly tucked away from the buzzing centre of the touristic city, Jefferson stands tall in his own columned castle. I was shocked to find that there were not many people milling about on the steps, enjoying the view of the Washington Monument from afar. Apparently, a lot of tourists don’t venture to this area because of the added walking distance. I wasn’t complaining.

Jefferson Memorial

The biggie, the one that everyone swarms to, like shoppers to a Black Friday sale, is the Lincoln Memorial. I proudly admit that I was one of the masses, happily chatting about the famous scene from Forrest Gump, recalling that time I ate Bubba Gump Shrimp in Las Vegas and taking my souvenir selfie of the Reflection Pool. We chilled on the cool steps, taking our time to imprint the memory of this monumental place. Children fed snacks to the fat ducks bobbing at the edge of the pool, locals obliviously jogged past, miming to their motivational running tracks, teens jumped in unison for a cheesy Facebook cover photo. Luckily, we had arrived at the time of a very rare tourist lull. It was not overly crowded in the memorial and I was able to have my picture taken with the big guy, completely on my own (with Morgan Bear), without having to queue. Not like the time it took me half an hour to take a photo of New York City’s Raging Bull.

Lincoln Memorial

We completed our tour of the iconic National Mall with congratulatory cocktails and a hearty meal of my first ever juicy mound of meatloaf (oh, my… just wow) in Old Ebbitt Grill. Before leaving, I made sure to take a photo of the original Walrus head famously bagged by President Teddy Roosevelt.

Aside: I was a little disappointed that we could not see the Whitehouse during that first day trip, as the whole area was closed off for an unknown reason. Fortunately I was able to visit during my second and third trip to DC in the week to follow. The best time to tour the monuments is definitely at night. I was like a child at Christmas, running from one to the other, eyes wide at the ghostly white marble against the black backdrop. It was a chilly evening and not many people were around. We almost had the moment to ourselves.

Our serene moment at the World War II Memorial

As we drove back to Reston, Virginia, I pictured my own Washington city lifestyle – I would stretch out my limbs each morning, prepping for a lap around the National Mall, eat lunches on the green, attend exhibitions in the museums, read under the cherry blossoms. My day-dreaming triggered a strange comforting feel. This was a place I could, possibly, call home, one day. I never thought I’d think this way about a city, but DC isn’t like hyper populated, claustrophobic London or New York. It is the equivalent of the United Kingdom’s artistic culture hub, Bristol, which I greatly missed, until I was introduced to this marble historic playground.

This post was written to the Spanish sounds of Mexico City at night and the pumping base of the upstairs club in Hostel Centro Historico Regina.