THE TRAVEL BLOG OF TROY HENDERSHOTT, GLOBAL BACKPACKER FOR ALMOST 3-YEARS CONTINUOUS, SINCE 2012

WADDUP BOGOTA

3/2/2013

How does the saying go? No man on his death bed looks back and wishes he had spent more time working. — James Davermann

Friday, March 1, 2013 (DAY 362)
Our first day in Bogota was spent catching up over dinner through the past year and what Char and I have been up to since our last adventure in Central America. We couldn’t help but feel as though we were missing Tim, and it wasn’t quite the same, but we were going to have to make due with our awesomeness in a new continent. I feel that whenever I arrive in a completely new location, I have to stop–pause and remind myself of the blessings that I have brought me to the current present moment thinking how lucky I am to be able to experience such things, and of course today is no different. Since we have a long 14-hour bus ride tomorrow we try and get some rest, but it’s difficult in all of the excitement of reuniting and the constant laughs that we can always find being together.

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PRESTIGE...WORLDWIDE

5/15/2012

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The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready. – Henry David Thoreau

Monday, May 14, 2012 (DAYS 71 -74)
The idea of traveling alone can seem both daunting and frightening to many, including myself, but from what I have I experienced there are few times that I am truly alone. I continue to feel that this journey will have accomplishments, and with it, I have reached one that I was unaware would occur so soon, by adding 200 new friends on Facebook and meeting so many people from around the world. To me, life is about the constant surprises of the unexpected, it’s just a matter of how we choose to embrace these situations that delves to the character of the person that we are in the current moment, that, than proceeds the person we have yet to become but are destined to fulfill.

My second week of Spanish classes begins with a feeling of regression. Speaking English through the entire weekend, which I blame solely on Lindsay and Michelle, I feel as though I have taken two steps backwards. Blast those Canadian top hats and their devilish common language ways! I suppose I can’t lay the blame entirely on them, but will spread the wealth so-to-speak, with the smooth talking Chattanoogan from Tennesse, Clifford, our true lone Yankee from Brooklyn, James, and of course the chicas from what else, but the best coast of the West Coast, Ashley and Heidi. Even now, I’m missing our Sunday Funday, and the quote of the day from Ford, “you know what I love about Sundays? … Everything.” Touché, sir, touché.

With the departure of most of our group to Antigua, and Lindsay and Maf moving in with their adoptive Guatemalan family for the week, I am relatively the last man standing at Zoolas, but not for long. The normalcy of hostel life brings new faces almost daily and of course this should be no different with the addition of a tall blonde Aussie, Freya, who has just moved in to the dorm and shares the far back corner with me. Initiating conversation with my debonair ways, please ladies, please, we decide to grab dinner together down the street at Restaurante Jakuu. Snagging a quiet table to the right of the entrance, I learn that Freya has been traveling for about nine months with possibly another six or more to go. Another given truth among backpackers is the lack of exact timing, this may be due to our refusal to wear watches which is the nomenclature of being unaware what day or even what month it may be. After receiving our menus from the solo server, the conversation that began in our dorm room continues with ease and is absent of any awkward pauses or silences, which is not hard to believe since anyone that knows me knows that I can be quite the conservationist, and this is also true of my Aussie counterpart. Relishing in the fact that this is not an awkward dinner with a new girl, our server interrupts by adding a lit candle between us on the table bringing an abrupt silence, and gives me a quick wink before he vanishes from our presence. Breaking in to laughter, neither of us can help the clumsy, yet wingman-ish attempt of “setting the mood” for a now-romantic-esque style dinner setting that has been created for us, and finally experiencing a traditional Guatemalan dinner with adult-size portions for only Q30 ($3.75) in San Pedro, I’ve already decided that this will be a place I will have to visit again in the near future. Upon finishing dinner, we continuing with the romantic theme that was flung on us with a slow walk back to Zoolas under a moonlight sky down the cobblestone street and I cannot help but continue to find humor in our dinner by candlelight. Our night ends lying in our respective beds with our heads practically touching with how the beds are positioned as we keep talking about the places we have been and those we hope to visit in the near future.

Tuesday brings moving day for me, as I am ready to rent my first apartment of my great journey, but surely not my last. Using my powerfully persuasive negotiating tactics I am paying a whopping Q350 ($43.75) for the month, which breaks down to $1.41 per day. Shamwow, indeed! The bright emerald color building makes me feel as though I’m living inside a piece of sour apple Bubblicious and soon this place will be popping harder than the upright collars of the d-bags at Lodos, so beware, you’ve been adequately warned. The first guest of my new place is Freya as she’s come to enjoy a movie on a rainy afternoon, and I have the privilege of exposing her to the wonders of Iron Man. Whispering to her that the film is based on a true story, she smiles flirtatiously, and when I give her the infamous ending line of the film, “the truth is….I am Iron Man.” I soon find that I am once again alone in my apartment. I guess she wanted to see the suit, but no worries mate, because soon the Canadian top hats have made their way down the block and the housewarming party continues. Cheers to the Northern Hemisphere, aye?

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SON, YOU'RE ABOUT AS USEFUL AS A POOPIE-FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

5/15/2012

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You don’t choose the day you enter the world and you don’t choose the day you leave. It’s what you do in between that makes all the difference. – Anita Septimus

Saturday, May 12, 2012 (DAYS 69 & 70)
My day of rest is a welcome sight as I wake up to the sun shining on my face from the slightly open window across from me. A quick glance around the room and I notice that I am the first person awake in the six-person dorm room that now consists of all guys. Prior to beginning this amazing adventure that has brought me to day number 69, I had always imagined sleeping in daily, removed from the grind of a more structured lifestyle, yet I find that not only do I have more energy and am well rested, but that I tend to begin my days with the early morning sunrise that is typically before 7am. After a quick shower I am headed down to the restaurant area of Zoola’s for my daily routine cup of complimentary coffee when I find Lindsay sitting outside her room. Debating the possibility of splurging for a notoriously rumored all-you-can-eat brunch, I am still uncertain in my decision. While contemplating my options, Michelle joins us and it is only after more than an hour of pleading and begging in a rather embarrassing manner that may have involved tears and blackmail, I am finally invited to join the Canadians for brunch. Score another one for Team Merica.

As we are leaving the hostel, my swagger is noticeably strong as I have a girl on each arm while wearing my extremely soft purple fur coat with matching crocodile leather boots, a gleaming diamond-studded glass cane is permanently fixated in my right hand careful not to distract from the numerous oversized platinum rings on each of my ten digits, and as I walk with a jaw-dropping limp I smile as we exit exposing my 24-carat gold grill that completes the ensemble, and, in our nonchalant method of exiting there seems to be unnecessary attention directed towards us and this of course causes the only guy from Brooklyn worthy enough to receive an invite to our morning feast. I might have exaggerated just a little. Forgive me, but I actually think it was snakeskin leather boots not crocodile. Apologies, I know I can be a bit of a storyteller. I just hope you don’t think too poorly of my character for that miniscule oversight. And, despite what you may think, the photo is not an accurate depiction of my memory frozen forever in time, but since I am an expert in Photoshop I didn't want to appear deceptive.

Walking the narrow streets that are more like alleyways, we are forced in to a single-file line as half a dozen horses swing around the corner and, I cannot help but laugh at the unique situations I experience on a daily basis. Gorging ourselves in true North American fashion, we have hidden our gluttony in the back patio of El Barrio that will forever be our place of shame. Unable to move from the most delicious breakfast I have had thus far, James and I still cannot believe that the five-star buffet was only Q40 ($5). I can truthfully say I have never experienced a better quality of an all-you-can-eat meal for the price. A close-second would have to be a meal I shared with the guys at Golden Corral before I left, where I think I only had explosive diarrhea eight or nine times that afternoon, not including the evening or late-night sessions. Thanks again to Mr. Kristopher Tuller, Jeremy Vlad, and Milk Chocolate for a day that my bowels will never forget.

My day of rest continues poolside digesting our expansive meal that would have any fat kid green with envy. The four of us spread out around the edge of the pool as a clear panoramic view of the volcanic mountains on the other side of Lago de Atitlan is visible between bouts of sunshine through the low hanging clouds that pass over head. Our lazy afternoon of peace and tranquility creates the perfect environment for reading and intellectual conversation, that is, until a heated debate is spawned over whether Helen Keller would be the perfect candidate for Terminator 4: If I find you…I’ll murnt da durnt burnt. Before a logical conclusion could be reached, both security and the militant forces of Guatemala had to intervene to bring back civil order to the once peaceful location that precluded the shenanigans of the raucous misfit that is known as, Helen Adams Keller. Serenity now. SERENITY NOW! Pausing to calm our egos in the cool waters of the pool, a new trend is developing as naps are beginning to be the popular choice. Being a gentleman and supporter of equal opportunity for gender rights, I let Lindsay lug over the large black body pillow in the heat of the afternoon and before she has properly set it down my head has already claimed the prime real estate. You’re welcome feminists.

As night falls on San Pedro, our group begins to grow in the form of an international collectivo that has become the standard practice of my new life. We are joined by a hilarious group, all from Common Wealth countries–Canada, Australia, and of course England, that brings our energy level up for the evening after the stereotypical fancy spot of tea and before I know it we parading through the streets only to return to the place that fed us our magically delicious brunch. Man, I really hope that little green leprechaun isn’t a nasty sue-happy money grubber just looking to add to his pot of gold, otherwise I’m going directly to the black market to hire Count Chocula to take him out, just like he did that infamous tiger with his flamboyantly fancy handkerchief that will, for security reasons, continue to be nameless. Savoring the moment of a dinner that has no limitations on time and is absent of curfews or following appointments, our Saturday night has brought the quiet restaurant to life, but before the meals arrive James quiets our group with a very sincere toast to begin the night’s festivities. The dinner should be sponsored by Kleenix with the amount of tears that are produced, but I assure Lindsay and Maf that we will all be friends forever, and before you know it the entire table and then, all of San Pedro is holding hands singing the famed Vitamin-C jam, “As we go on, we remember, all the times we had together. And as our lives change, from whatever, we will still be, friends forever.” Sorry, that gets me every time.

After wiping away the dribbling snot from our faces and pull our clenched arms from around one another, we recompose ourselves and head back to Zoola’s for a good ole fashioned Saturday night movie night where we learn the five D’s of Dodgeball–dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. Unfortunately members of the once-proud British Empire retire for the night leaving the majority of the faithful red, white, and blue to console one another amid two maple leafs and our quiet Dutchman, Kenneth.

Sunday, I have reached the milestone of 70 days of travel, and yet, it feels as though I’ve only been gone for a few weeks. When I look back on the past few months, I think about all that I have accomplished, the places I have been to, the friends that I have made along the way, and while the perception from this perspective is grand, I also think about where my life would be if I were unable to have the courage in taking this leap towards a life I am fortunate enough to continue to experience daily. I have never pushed myself so hard, removed myself so far from my comfort zones, and have seen that I have more within me than I could have ever imagined if I would have sided with the security of my current life for one of adventure that pushes me to the limits of the person I am sure I will become when this great journey comes to an end. However, I worry not for the day that this may happen, but continue to live within the present, because tomorrow has not happened and there is plenty to worry about today.

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EXPERIENCE LIFE-ENRICHING TRAVEL

5/12/2012

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Experience, travel – these are as education in themselves. — Euripides

Friday, May 11, 2012 (DAY 68)
Reluctant to crawl out of bed after an exhausting week of Spanish, another dorm mate and energetic Aussie, Dan, wouldn’t take no for an answer and insists that I join him and four other girls for dinner. After a few seconds of contemplating this, I am out of bed, half dressed, and ready to go. Deciding that my self-imposed curfew can be lifted since the weekend is the only break from classes that I receive and my attempt to be unsocial by being focused like a laser is also causing me to become the weird smelly kid in the hostel, I give in quite easily. Ok, well we all know that’s not true, because pretty much every backpacker has some type of rockin smell permeating from them, whether it’s their bag full of unwashed clothes, a half-eaten pollo plate from two-days ago that was being saved for later, or the typical amount of shame for being gringo’d from earlier in the day, the smells of life on the road are an adventure in and of themselves.

Introductions are made in the colorful lounge area of Zoola’s that later, we are convinced seems to be decorated as if it were an opium den. The first pair of girls that I meet are two blonde Americans living in San Francisco, Ashley and Heidi, while the second traveling pair, is another Canadian invasion. Once again I find myself with a pair from British Colombia that could very well be much cooler than the last pair that I met from Winterpeg. Bold statement? Well, when all of America’s top hat bursts in to civil war because of me, just do what I do and blame Canada, period. I’m almost expecting Emily and Krista to hunt me down for the previous comment by showing up in Atitlan for a battle royale, but I’m quite certain that the girls from Victoria, Lindsay and Michelle, could hold their own in my orchestrated Maple leaf domestic violence throwdown showdown. Ding, ding, ladies. Ding. Ding.

Arriving at the restaurant, The Buddha, we have also added another outcast of Little Israel, a solo traveler from Denmark, Kenneth. Our group of seven now has representatives from most of the world continents and the miniature United Nations session has come to order. The first order of business, ordering quickly since the kitchen is about to close. After indulging in a family-style communal dinner complete with spring rolls, pad Thai, curry, and a variety of other dishes, the contest for the largest food baby fails to declare a winner as everyone is quickly falling in to a food coma. I love that everything has taken to a slower pace of life, especially meals with new friends.

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WADDUP BOGOTA

How does the saying go? No man on his death bed looks back and wishes he had spent more time working. — James Davermann

PRESTIGE...WORLDWIDE

The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready. – Henry David Thoreau

SON, YOU'RE ABOUT AS USEFUL AS A POOPIE-FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

You don’t choose the day you enter the world and you don’t choose the day you leave. It’s what you do in between that makes all the difference. – Anita Septimus

EXPERIENCE LIFE-ENRICHING TRAVEL

Experience, travel – these are as education in themselves. — Euripides

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© 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.

WADDUP BOGOTA

How does the saying go? No man on his death bed looks back and wishes he had spent more time working. — James Davermann

PRESTIGE...WORLDWIDE

The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready. – Henry David Thoreau

SON, YOU'RE ABOUT AS USEFUL AS A POOPIE-FLAVORED LOLLIPOP

You don’t choose the day you enter the world and you don’t choose the day you leave. It’s what you do in between that makes all the difference. – Anita Septimus

EXPERIENCE LIFE-ENRICHING TRAVEL

Experience, travel – these are as education in themselves. — Euripides

About the Author

Archives

Categories

All content is © 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.

All content is
© 2011-2017 of rtwexperiences.com All rights reserved unless otherwise noted.