Many of us can't resist a sale at our favorite store or at the mall. Americans are addicted to "getting a great deal" on something, whether it's designer labels and shoes or weekly specials at the supermarket.
That's how I am when I see a great deal on an airfare; I feel almost as if I have to book the flight or lose out on it forever.
So as I passed the halfway mark of my trip yesterday (at about Day 26) and was finalizing plans for the remainder of my journey, I received a "special" offer from Travel Zoo (I'm on their mailing list) for Costa Rica flights starting at just over $200 round trip from Chicago. I immediately booked myself a flight to San Jose for the week after I complete my summer lessons schedule but before the new school year starts.
Thus I will postpone Costa Rica til the end of August and use the week or so I will have at that time to visit Tortuguero.
I like this new plan for a lot of reasons, now mainly because I don't have to travel much further south but instead can begin to return to Guatemala via Honduras and/or El Salvador. This also gives me more time to revisit the massive ruins site in Copan, Honduras--an amazing place which I visited in 2008 when I didn't have a camera.
This also gives me plenty of time to go to the Guatemalan market town of Chichicastenango where my aunt's church has its "sister" church.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Boycott JPMorgan Chase!
Normally I would not contaminate my trip blog with a post like this, but since May 28 JPMorgan Chase has charged me $24 in bogus fees related to my ATM activities in Central America. Some of these charges I was aware of ahead of time, some of them I admit I should have known about but didn't, but a couple of them are so pernicious it makes my blood boil.
Basically what they did was nickel and dime me with fees until one of my accounts went below a minimum balance requirement. Most of this "feeing" happened under my radar screen because I wasn't checking these accounts online everyday. Since one of the accounts was briefly below the minimum, it seems now they have charged me a total of $10 more for that sin!
I wrote to them twice to complain, but all I get are form replies. Does anyone else have any banking horror stories like these? It's easy to forget that 20 or 30 years ago banks wouldn't have dreamed of charging all these bogus fees for the "privilege" of having access to our own money. I consider this fee-based banking to be a form of legalized theft. We should always complain when we are getting ripped off even if we don't get the results we deserve.
Basically what they did was nickel and dime me with fees until one of my accounts went below a minimum balance requirement. Most of this "feeing" happened under my radar screen because I wasn't checking these accounts online everyday. Since one of the accounts was briefly below the minimum, it seems now they have charged me a total of $10 more for that sin!
I wrote to them twice to complain, but all I get are form replies. Does anyone else have any banking horror stories like these? It's easy to forget that 20 or 30 years ago banks wouldn't have dreamed of charging all these bogus fees for the "privilege" of having access to our own money. I consider this fee-based banking to be a form of legalized theft. We should always complain when we are getting ripped off even if we don't get the results we deserve.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Poneloya/Las Peñitas Links
Check on the upper right hand side of this page, or at the blog list below for links to Poneloya/Las Peñitas. This blog has good photos of the area which is the best I can do for my readers at this stage of my journey.
Enjoy. . .
Enjoy. . .
This Morning in Las Peñitas
The Barco de Oro is located inside a small, shallow lagoon in Las Peñitas and therefore is sheltered from the big surfer's waves that constantly crash ashore in these parts. Even at high tide you can walk out very far and the water still only comes up to your knees.
At low tide some fish get caught in the wet sand that spreads for a quarter of a mile from the terrace of the hotel's restaurant out to the sandbar in the distance. This morning, the villagers caught at least three or four stingrays in this manner.
Other fish trapped at low tide quickly become carrion for black garbage-picking birds as the many ravens that flew high above attest. Neighborhood dogs also attempt to get their share.
Every now & then a local fishing boat returns from sea, and the villagers--men, women, and children--walk out into the lagoon to get first dibs on the freshest of the morning's catch. Little toddlers "help" their mothers by carrying back a fish half their size, but back ashore their fish becomes a toy to play with in the dwindling pool of salt water.
It's very quiet and peaceful here; I'm not surprised this place sticks for me. Unlike San Juan del Sur, it still remains largely undeveloped in terms of infrastructure for rich foreigners and not-so-rich backpackers like me. As the scene this morning seems to indicate, the original character and ambiance of the village remains for the casual visitor to enjoy.
Major changes have already happened here, and surely there are more big changes to come. Hopefully it won't be as quick and as jarring as in other places such as Koh Samui, Thailand which was turned upside down and shaken to its foundation in less than five years.
At low tide some fish get caught in the wet sand that spreads for a quarter of a mile from the terrace of the hotel's restaurant out to the sandbar in the distance. This morning, the villagers caught at least three or four stingrays in this manner.
Other fish trapped at low tide quickly become carrion for black garbage-picking birds as the many ravens that flew high above attest. Neighborhood dogs also attempt to get their share.
Every now & then a local fishing boat returns from sea, and the villagers--men, women, and children--walk out into the lagoon to get first dibs on the freshest of the morning's catch. Little toddlers "help" their mothers by carrying back a fish half their size, but back ashore their fish becomes a toy to play with in the dwindling pool of salt water.
It's very quiet and peaceful here; I'm not surprised this place sticks for me. Unlike San Juan del Sur, it still remains largely undeveloped in terms of infrastructure for rich foreigners and not-so-rich backpackers like me. As the scene this morning seems to indicate, the original character and ambiance of the village remains for the casual visitor to enjoy.
Major changes have already happened here, and surely there are more big changes to come. Hopefully it won't be as quick and as jarring as in other places such as Koh Samui, Thailand which was turned upside down and shaken to its foundation in less than five years.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Return to Las Peñitas Beaches
Leave it to yours truly to pick the rainiest day of the week to flee Leon for the quiet fishing village of Las Peñitas and its beaches!
I splurged on a $10 taxi to get here and splurged more on an aircon room--a treat to myself after putting up with five very muggy nights in Leon without.
The Barca de Oro, a small family-run hotel/restaurant, is staffed by friendly people, and they serve good, real coffee, not Nescafe or something worse. Everyone in the village is glued to their televisions now for the World Cup broadcasts. Prime time in South Africa is just past noon here.
The sound of the big waves is constant and similar to the sound of a jumbo jet aircraft in the distance, but much more pleasant and soothing. The rain has stopped, but you can see the cloud cover stretching across the entire Pacific horizen, so perhaps there's more to come. It doesn't matter to me very much because I'm exactly where I want to be today.
My sense is, barring a sudden crisis of boredom brought upon by lack of the usual city distractions here, a couple or three days in Las Peñitas will be good for the soul.
I splurged on a $10 taxi to get here and splurged more on an aircon room--a treat to myself after putting up with five very muggy nights in Leon without.
The Barca de Oro, a small family-run hotel/restaurant, is staffed by friendly people, and they serve good, real coffee, not Nescafe or something worse. Everyone in the village is glued to their televisions now for the World Cup broadcasts. Prime time in South Africa is just past noon here.
The sound of the big waves is constant and similar to the sound of a jumbo jet aircraft in the distance, but much more pleasant and soothing. The rain has stopped, but you can see the cloud cover stretching across the entire Pacific horizen, so perhaps there's more to come. It doesn't matter to me very much because I'm exactly where I want to be today.
My sense is, barring a sudden crisis of boredom brought upon by lack of the usual city distractions here, a couple or three days in Las Peñitas will be good for the soul.
Liking the Rainy Season for the Same Reasons I Once Hated It
I like traveling in the tropics during the rainy season which contrasts sharply with my attitude during the time I lived in Thailand in the early 1990s.
Contrary to popular belief, the rainy season doesn't mean it rains all day everyday. But often it rains toward the end of a very hot, humid day which can cool things off considerably. Even when it doesn't rain, there might be thick cloud cover which cuts the blinding glare of the tropical sun.
In Thailand I played fiddle in a Thai country music band. We worked nights, often every night of the week. In Thailand, the high season is known as the "cool" season because the weather is not too hot in the daytime, while at night it can be pleasantly cool (or "cold" as the Thais call it). The high season (November thru Februrary) was very busy and lucrative for us musicians.
In March and April comes the brutal hot season. It gets so hot that even the Thais complain about it. Temps of 100 Farenheit are not uncommon. Nighttime doesn't bring much relief.
The rainy season in Thailand is the longest season of all--May thru September or October, just as in Central America. As musicians, we still had work every night, but it was definitely the "slow" season for us, and we had much less extra work gigging on private parties, for example.
While now I enjoy the late afternoon rains here in Nicaragua, in Thailand at the time these would hit just when I getting ready for work. Since my principal mode of transport was by motorcycle, this often could be problematic for me if the timing of the rains was bad. Once I had to skip a high paying gig because I was caught in a heavy downpour, ending up completely soaked and in no condition to join my colleagues for the gig, who mostly had real cars and pickup trucks.
Now that I'm not working nights in the tropics, I really like the feel and the sound of an all night thunderstorm. It's very refreshing. And on rainy days here, often the buses are a lot less crowded, so it's easier for me to get around with my gear.
At this time of year in Central America, as in Thailand, there are fewer tourists and fewer crowds in general. Often this means that I can get discounted hotel room rates. What costs me $20 now might cost double in December or during Easter week.
Perhaps the worst thing for me about the rainy season in Thailand was simply the long, dreary length of it. Similar to the length of a Wisconsin winter, by the end of September, as I recall, I was very weary of the rains--even a little bit depressed by it.
That would make the imminent arrival of the cool season in October/November something to rejoice in and celebrate. . .
Contrary to popular belief, the rainy season doesn't mean it rains all day everyday. But often it rains toward the end of a very hot, humid day which can cool things off considerably. Even when it doesn't rain, there might be thick cloud cover which cuts the blinding glare of the tropical sun.
In Thailand I played fiddle in a Thai country music band. We worked nights, often every night of the week. In Thailand, the high season is known as the "cool" season because the weather is not too hot in the daytime, while at night it can be pleasantly cool (or "cold" as the Thais call it). The high season (November thru Februrary) was very busy and lucrative for us musicians.
In March and April comes the brutal hot season. It gets so hot that even the Thais complain about it. Temps of 100 Farenheit are not uncommon. Nighttime doesn't bring much relief.
The rainy season in Thailand is the longest season of all--May thru September or October, just as in Central America. As musicians, we still had work every night, but it was definitely the "slow" season for us, and we had much less extra work gigging on private parties, for example.
While now I enjoy the late afternoon rains here in Nicaragua, in Thailand at the time these would hit just when I getting ready for work. Since my principal mode of transport was by motorcycle, this often could be problematic for me if the timing of the rains was bad. Once I had to skip a high paying gig because I was caught in a heavy downpour, ending up completely soaked and in no condition to join my colleagues for the gig, who mostly had real cars and pickup trucks.
Now that I'm not working nights in the tropics, I really like the feel and the sound of an all night thunderstorm. It's very refreshing. And on rainy days here, often the buses are a lot less crowded, so it's easier for me to get around with my gear.
At this time of year in Central America, as in Thailand, there are fewer tourists and fewer crowds in general. Often this means that I can get discounted hotel room rates. What costs me $20 now might cost double in December or during Easter week.
Perhaps the worst thing for me about the rainy season in Thailand was simply the long, dreary length of it. Similar to the length of a Wisconsin winter, by the end of September, as I recall, I was very weary of the rains--even a little bit depressed by it.
That would make the imminent arrival of the cool season in October/November something to rejoice in and celebrate. . .
Monday, June 14, 2010
Something Out of a John LeCarre or Graham Greene Novel
Okay, I guess it's official: Leon has turned out to be "the place that sticks" for me on this trip, at least for the present moment, since tonight I'll spend my fifth night in a row here (Day 22). I'm still agnostic on returning to Las Peñitas for a couple days, but I'm definitely sure about heading out somewhere else tomorrow.
I'm staying here a bit longer not because there are tons more westerners here, including young European backpackers and American college kids, than I've seen anywhere else in three weeks.
Indeed, there are also plenty of Our Man in Havana types lurking about in the bars and cafes. Am I one of them? It reminds me of the time I returned to Bangkok after a long absence and encountered two Brits who tried to wind me up by accusing me of being a DEA narc.
There's another "quiet American" type sitting over there in the cafe where I'm writing this "dispatch," but he's drinking beer while I'm enjoying my late morning latte. He's "old school", I guess.
By my demeanor, the folks from Witness for Peace must think I'm an operative for the top secret "ABC" agency, with a direct line to the Managua station chief himself. "I'm a Suzuki violin teacher," I tell them, feeling somewhat lame as I do so. Yeah, right! That sounds like a perfect cover, or "legend", for my true purposes here. After all, why else would I be asking so many questions about the Colombian, the Venezuelan, and the Cuban legs of their fact-finding mission?
M says WfP has offical permission from the State Department to make this trip to Cuba. The organization also requires Cuban government permission--not difficult for them to get if they are as liberal as they are made out to be on the internet. "The bad thing about that is we won't be able to escape our Cuban government minders," he says. M and R both invited me to join them for the Nicaraguan leg--"There's always room for more"--but I mentioned that I knew I'd have to pay $1000 for the privilege, which they readily confirmed.
R acknowledged that WfP does make a profit from their volunteers at this $100 per day rate. "But that also includes room and board with local families, overland transport, expert guides and interpreters," she says.
We discuss the risks of traveling, as Americans, to Cuba without offical U.S. sanction. I've heard that a common route is through Cancun, where the cheapest Havana flights and Cuban visas are available at around $300 for the total package.
I remember a story about a California musician who bought old upright pianos to refurbish which he then turned around and exported to Cuba for use in the dance and music academies. Upon his return to the U.S. from one of his Cuba trips, the authorities nailed him, and the Treasury Department imposed an $8000 fine. As I recall, the musician's reaction was something along the line of "this is a situation of can't pay, so won't pay." He didn't even have enough money to hire a lawyer because all his extra money was going into second hand pianos.
M claims that if I failed to slip back into America from Cuba without the authorities noticing, and if Treasury were to hit me with a big fine, then the ACLU would take my case. "And they've never lost a case," he says. I don't know how accurate this information is, but it's an interesting question: Is full liberty to travel, where and when you please, without government interference, a First Amendment right? How ironic that Washington demanded the end of all Iron Curtain travel restrictions at the height of the Cold War, yet today retains its own anachronistic restrictions.
It seems that this 50 year-old Washington anti-Cuba policy serves no one except a small but vocal constituency in Florida. This policy does not benefit the U.S.A., and it doesn't prevent the Cuban government from doing exactly what it wants.
These economic embargo policies really have only losers: both the American and Cuban peoples. Cubans miss out on the economic benefits of free trade with the U.S. And Americans miss out on the many cultural benefits of Cuban arts, music, dance, food etc. In other words, the good stuff.
But beyond all that, in the 21st century, isn't it time to end all passport restrictions for Americans? Currently, even this "minor" restriction vis-a-vis Cuba seems just a bit. . .well, unAmerican.
I'm staying here a bit longer not because there are tons more westerners here, including young European backpackers and American college kids, than I've seen anywhere else in three weeks.
Indeed, there are also plenty of Our Man in Havana types lurking about in the bars and cafes. Am I one of them? It reminds me of the time I returned to Bangkok after a long absence and encountered two Brits who tried to wind me up by accusing me of being a DEA narc.
There's another "quiet American" type sitting over there in the cafe where I'm writing this "dispatch," but he's drinking beer while I'm enjoying my late morning latte. He's "old school", I guess.
By my demeanor, the folks from Witness for Peace must think I'm an operative for the top secret "ABC" agency, with a direct line to the Managua station chief himself. "I'm a Suzuki violin teacher," I tell them, feeling somewhat lame as I do so. Yeah, right! That sounds like a perfect cover, or "legend", for my true purposes here. After all, why else would I be asking so many questions about the Colombian, the Venezuelan, and the Cuban legs of their fact-finding mission?
M says WfP has offical permission from the State Department to make this trip to Cuba. The organization also requires Cuban government permission--not difficult for them to get if they are as liberal as they are made out to be on the internet. "The bad thing about that is we won't be able to escape our Cuban government minders," he says. M and R both invited me to join them for the Nicaraguan leg--"There's always room for more"--but I mentioned that I knew I'd have to pay $1000 for the privilege, which they readily confirmed.
R acknowledged that WfP does make a profit from their volunteers at this $100 per day rate. "But that also includes room and board with local families, overland transport, expert guides and interpreters," she says.
We discuss the risks of traveling, as Americans, to Cuba without offical U.S. sanction. I've heard that a common route is through Cancun, where the cheapest Havana flights and Cuban visas are available at around $300 for the total package.
I remember a story about a California musician who bought old upright pianos to refurbish which he then turned around and exported to Cuba for use in the dance and music academies. Upon his return to the U.S. from one of his Cuba trips, the authorities nailed him, and the Treasury Department imposed an $8000 fine. As I recall, the musician's reaction was something along the line of "this is a situation of can't pay, so won't pay." He didn't even have enough money to hire a lawyer because all his extra money was going into second hand pianos.
M claims that if I failed to slip back into America from Cuba without the authorities noticing, and if Treasury were to hit me with a big fine, then the ACLU would take my case. "And they've never lost a case," he says. I don't know how accurate this information is, but it's an interesting question: Is full liberty to travel, where and when you please, without government interference, a First Amendment right? How ironic that Washington demanded the end of all Iron Curtain travel restrictions at the height of the Cold War, yet today retains its own anachronistic restrictions.
It seems that this 50 year-old Washington anti-Cuba policy serves no one except a small but vocal constituency in Florida. This policy does not benefit the U.S.A., and it doesn't prevent the Cuban government from doing exactly what it wants.
These economic embargo policies really have only losers: both the American and Cuban peoples. Cubans miss out on the economic benefits of free trade with the U.S. And Americans miss out on the many cultural benefits of Cuban arts, music, dance, food etc. In other words, the good stuff.
But beyond all that, in the 21st century, isn't it time to end all passport restrictions for Americans? Currently, even this "minor" restriction vis-a-vis Cuba seems just a bit. . .well, unAmerican.
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