#i said surprise me this wasn’t planned out so I basically kms when i got the results

[pekodaiz]

DIE BRU DIE thank u jean ilysm

[laowai-on-a-bike]

Yinzu, Yinzu, Yinzu… these words echoed endlessly in my head. It all started when I was back from Jiu Gong Mountain, on the highway with my friend Freddy. I was impressed to admire such beautiful landscapes so close to Wuhan. It's weird that we are always drawn to faraway destinations, like Yunnnan, Guizhou or Sichuan provinces but ultimately, there are already plenty of places to explore near our home.

Besides, I will be moving to Guangzhou soon so I might as well explore the area before leaving. And then, starting a bike tour directly from home without the hassle of bringing your bike to a distant destination by train or bus or by mail is really much more convenient. Well, I'm already digressing...

At one point on the highway, then, an exit sign appeared with the name "Yinzu" written on it. I didn't know why, but I was immediately drawn to the name, maybe because it sounds good, I don't know. And then the obsession started: "I'll go by bike to Yinzu". I didn't even know what Yinzu was: a village? A town? Regardless, it seemed like a good pretext for an adventure.

Then Freddy, who speaks Chinese much better than me, managed to find the name in Chinese character. Yinzu was there, on my Baidu Map app (equivalent to Google Map in China), 90 kilometers away from Wuhan.  Ideas for routes were starting to take shape in my head for some time.

In the middle of June, I was having a three days weekend for the Dragon Boat Festival so I said to myself: "Yinzu, I'm coming"!

One day before leaving, I checked the weather forecast: they announced rain for 3 days and a very hot weather (33-35 degrees) ... Ouch ... But, if we are still waiting for the right moment to leave, we will never go on a tour right? “It's raining”, “it's too hot”, “it’s too humid”: these are no excuses! Especially in the Wuhan region, where there are only two seasons (very hot and humid or cold):  that doesn't leave many opportunities to ride if we wait for the perfect weather. So I decided to leave, raining or not.

The last time I rode my bike in bad weather, I wasn't prepared. I ended up with plastic bags around my shoes and a soaked underwear. After this experience, I had searched the internet for the perfect solution to ride in the rain. Overshoes? Good brand raincoat? 10 yuan plastic poncho from street grocery stores? The solution finally came from my British friend Jack: "You must embrace the rain ! Just remove your shirt and ride in sandals"! He was not wrong: in fact, why bother ? Especially with temperatures around 35 degrees, you are dry in 5 minutes ... So I grabbed a 15 Yuan rain shorts (a kind of ugly short made by trash bag material) because I don't like having my underwear wet - yes I know, I'm a little princess -, Decathlon sandals, and for the t-shirt, well… I'm really not a fan of riding with a cycling jersey, so a punk band tee-shirt will have to do !

The day before departure, I loaded my two bike rack bags, I took food (oatmeal and dried fruits for breakfast, and some dehydrated dishes), some clothes, a raincoat which in the end I didn’t use, an Italian coffee maker (instant coffee, no thanks), repairing tools, then equipment for camping (tent, sleeping bag, mattress etc.). Sleeping in a hotel is for a looser, I am a real adventurer... well that's what I thought before leaving…

Sunday 8 am, departure. It didn't seem to be raining, so now was a good time to go. The first 50 km were on a big dusty expressway, I could feel that I was in the suburbs of Wuhan: here and there, construction sites, bridges and roads under construction. I hadn't done 30 km before my bike was already very dusty. No problem, it gives me a feeling of adventure.

The Expressways in China are widely used by trucks… not necessarily super fun to ride, but it allows you to get out of town quickly. Well, positive note, the roads are often very wide here and you really have room to ride. I was trying not to think about the trucks and enjoy my trip, much like when your buddy is snoring next to you, if you start to think about it too much, you will go crazy and it will be impossible to think of anything else. But everything went very well and I never felt unsafe on the road during the whole trip.

The advantage of going on a short 3-day test trip is I learned a lot.

First lesson of this trip: do not trust the weather forecast. The rain they predicted? I hardly saw it…  In fact, it was under a blazing sun that I had to ride the entire trip. They have an easy job, those weather broadcasting guys! Basically they write that there's a 50% chance that it will rain… not a big risk-taking on their part…

So finally, I rode in the blazing sun, and on an express way, there wasn't a single patch of shade. The sun hit hard! As I had already tanned well on my previous bike trips, I figured that I was not too prone to sunburn.

Second lesson: always wear sunscreen, even if you already had sunburns before! And above all, do not wait until you are sweating to put it on, otherwise, it makes a kind of mixture between sticky perspiration, sunscreen and dust...

Well, the sun didn't worry me more than that, at worst a sunburn. ... it was more in terms of hydration that I had to be careful. So I decided to tape bottles on the frame of the bike.  DIY spirit! I also had with me some rehydrating powder to add to the water, since you lose a lot of salt with perspiration.

Anyway, I rode like that for quite a long time, and on the way, I passed a little hand-built house where people were selling water. Seeing me sweating heavily, they invited me to sit on a stool placed in front of a fan. So it was true: when people see a cyclist arriving on a trip, moreover a foreigner coming out of nowhere, smiles and kindness appear.

We talked a bit about the usual topics: Where are you from? What is your job? Are you married? What are you doing here? Then, after a few minutes, the father invited me to eat. At first I politely refused, but eventually I gave in. It is heartwarming to see the hospitality of the people especially at this time, when many Chinese people are scared to see a foreigner, thinking he may have brought covid-19 from abroad. It’s a bit tiring sometimes to see people pinch their noses when they see me on the street, I have to admit. But not at all here. They apologized for only offering me vegetable dishes, no meat, but in fact I was more than happy to eat fresh vegetables from their garden. We chatted about everything and nothing during the meal and it was already time to leave. I would have liked to drink beers longer, but I hadn't come to get drunk. I had a trip planned: Yinzu was waiting for me.

I got back on this big road but after a few kilometers I started to wonder. I hadn't come to go for kilometers on a boring road while being shaken by trucks ... Hence my third lesson of this trip: prepare your route well. Basically there are different types of roads in China that start with a letter: the S and G are the expressways where there are a lot of trucks, little shade, but that has the advantage of going straight and faster. Perfect for traveling for kilometers quickly and out of cities. But the X and Y are much more interesting country roads. Even if it takes detours, it is a change of scenery guaranteed. After these three days of biking, I learned that you have to know the right balance: ride the expressways to go quickly and far, especially when the landscapes are uninteresting. And take the small roads to ride peacefully, to discover rural life and be amazed by the landscapes.

So I changed my route on the GPS. Good decision: I crossed my first rice fields and I was finally over the moon.

Gradually, the landscape started to be really amazing and the colors of the landscapes became greener and greener.

Further on, I began to see mountains in the distance. It was my destination, it was these landscapes that made me want to go to Yinzu !!! The trip was finally starting to make sense. I was as excited as a kid over his Christmas present and all my doubts melted away

I rode like this all afternoon, with a smile on my face, despite the scorching heat.

Gradually, I began to wonder about where to sleep. I am always on the lookout when I ride, looking to see if there is a possibility of wild camping.

Lesson number 4: the rice fields are beautiful in photos but not ideal for camping ... It is not always easy to find a flat and, moreover, hidden place to have a good quiet night's sleep. The rural countryside is incredibly dense with crops and cultivated fields, so it's really not that easy to find a spot to camp. The solution might be to ask people in the area. Well anyway, I was heading to Yinzu and I could decide there.

I arrive near a pagoda and a temple in the middle of nowhere, on the way. What is that ? I asked a passerby, she reply "nothing". I thought she must have been surprised to find herself face to face with a smelly foreigner on a bicycle and told herself that I don't speak Chinese. In fact she was right: the buildings were completely empty, probably a future hotel still under construction.

Finally, a Yinzu sign. I was approaching my goal, but what exactly? I didn't even know what Yinzu was ...

So finally, Yinzu, is a small town which consists of a big main street with its restaurants, its stores. Everyone is surprised to see me there and I have fun seeing children speechless when they meet my eyes: "What can this foreigner on a bicycle be doing here?" I was so excited to have arrived at my destination that I didn't even take a photo of the city. I would also have liked to take pictures of people, but I didn't dare to do it.

I had to make a decision. Get out of Yinzu and find a place to sleep in the wild - I was still quite exhausted from the day's travel and the sunburns - or go and try to check in at the only hotel in the area. I say "try" because not many Chinese know it, but in China, many hotels do not accept foreigners. It is not really out of racism. No one really knows the reason: some say that cheap hotels do not have the computer system to register foreigners, others think that China wants to show only beautiful things to foreign tourists and they must therefore go to beautiful 4 star hotels. Well, I'm not criticizing, it's like that here and I accept it but it's still frustrating to live 15 years in a country, to work there, to be married there and to be refused in a hotel because you're a foreigner…

It makes it hard to plan a bike trip if you're not even sure you can find a place to sleep.

Anyway, whoever tries nothing has nothing and finally, I walked to the hotel without really believing it. The owner who ran the establishment did not even ask a question. I told him that I am a foreigner (sometimes people think I am from Xinjiang Province) just in case. He asked me if I had a Chinese identity card, but I replied with a smile that I only have a passport, that I came from Wuhan by bicycle and that if he wants, I have a photo of my Chinese wife's ID card. But he was very nice and gives me the room card, chatted a bit and even offered me tea.

I went upstairs to take a well-deserved shower. I was really sticky ... I realized that the sun had scorched me today ...

Lesson number 5: apply sunscreen everywhere, including your feet!

I was still a little disappointed with myself. Watching videos of people cycling around the world and camping in nature every night, I told myself that going to sleep at a hotel is a bit cheating, isn't it? But after 5 minutes under the air conditioning, I told myself that it was not that bad in the end. I travel for myself, not for others, and after a little over 100 kilometers in the day, I admit that a shower and a good bed made me feel good. Too bad for my adventurous soul...

I went out to eat something. In the street, I had the impression to rediscover the feeling that I had had when I arrived in China in 2006. It is a felling rather hard to explain. Once again, may be the surprise of people who greeted me with a warm "hello" and wanted to take a photo with me, or the number of street foods vendors who are hard to find in big cities nowadays. I ate a bowl of Lanzhou noodles, returned to the hotel and quickly fell asleep.

 The next day, I woke up feeling very tired. It was undoubtedly linked to the heat stroke of the day before. My feet didn't hurt too much. I had few small blisters on my knees but it could have been worse. I told myself that I shouldn't hang around too much. Better ride early to avoid the heat of the day. By arranging my things scattered all over the place and loading the panniers on the bike, I was already sweating profusely… The day was going to be hot… I put on sunscreen (I had understood my mistake of the day before). I decided to go towards Wuhan but not by the same road because it is boring to take the same route as on the way there. There is a big lake 50 km south of Wuhan, which is perfect because I have never been there before.

The road to the lake was once again beautiful. I passed through villages and small towns, lakes, rice paddies, cornfields. Such a nice place to ride a bike.

Every now and then, I chatted with people at a gas station, or with a watermelon vendor who kindly offered me his stool to eat in the shade and chatted with me.

It was still very hot, but the sun was not too strong. In fact, I can handle the heat really well. I can ride in high temperatures with no problem but on the other hand, when the sun is burning my skin, it's really hard for me, especially from 10 am to 4 pm.

While riding under the sun, I was wondering about my next trips. Since I got back to cycling, I have dreamed of doing part of the Silk Road by bike from Lanzhou to Dunghung in Gansu Province, basically a road through the desert (with cities between). I was starting to realize that my dream was not going to be so easy to achieve. How to ride all day without shade? I guess someone should really be prepare for a trip like that.

I tell myself that in the end, I was smart enough not to jump straight into such a long adventure. Rather than directly embarking on a 20-day adventure and experiencing difficulties, I did things gradually: first short distances in Wuhan to get used to the bike, then trips of 100 kilometers in Wuhan, then a two-day trip, a mountain to climb to test my willpower and finally a slightly longer trip.

Around 11 am, the sun reappeared but I decided to go to the lake without taking too many breaks. I still should have left two hours earlier though (I left at 8 am) to avoid the strong sun radiation.

Gradually, the landscapes changed a little, the mountains in the distance disappeared and the vegetation changed. I would have liked to stay in the area longer but I had to go back to work. Next time I should ride longer.

When I got to the lake, I realized that in fact, I was not really in the place I hoped for. Make no mistake, it was very beautiful, but it wasn't really a big lake. Rather square ponds designed for fishermen.

But I was still super happy to find myself a little shade by the water with my friends the hens who came to visit me and sometimes fishermen who came to chat with me.

The place where I was, however, was not really ideal for camping because it was too close to a road. I didn't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by strangers. Besides, my mate Jack told me that while sleeping near this lake, a farmer kindly asked him to leave in the middle of the night few years before.

So after I had rested for an hour, I left to look for a more hidden place. The camp spot I found was not perfect - It wasn't by the water – but I could be invisible at night. I know that many travelers love to set out to find a place to camp. It’s like a game for them. Me, I always have a little apprehension of doing wild camp. This must be probably related to my inexperience in wild camping. But hey, after an hour of imagining the worst, I told myself that I was not risking much and I had to try to make the most of the present moment.

So I made a meal while waiting for night to fall to put my tent discreetly. I didn't want to attract the attention of the local fishermen either.

As I entered the tent, ready to sleep, I felt really stupid. The tent was like a real sauna!! In terms of insects, I was well protected by the mosquito net but the heat was really difficult to bear. I couldn't open the tent door or else I would be eaten alive by the bugs… I could hear them circling around the tent, attracted by a sweating smelly human and my phone light. So I had a hard time falling asleep. Usually, after a day of cycling like this, you can easily fall asleep around 9 p.m... I still told myself that the hotel in this season is nicer and that would save me from carrying a tent and sleeping gear (and a new lesson learned, a sleeping bag is useless in this season). The hammock could be the solution, I have one with an extra mosquito net, but I don't sleep very well in it... a new lesson learned on this trip !

Finally, I woke up at dawn. After packing all my mess, I had breakfast and a little coffee for the road.

I had around 50 kilometers to ride that day to get home and I had to work in the afternoon. The return went well, I followed a few roads lined with fields of tea and corn, but the landscapes were gradually less pleasant and more and more urban.

  I finally arrived around midday at home. I had ride 230 kilometers with 1200 meters of elevation gain. That was not bad in this heat.  At the end, I was super happy doing this trip: I had learn a lot for my future trips, I enjoyed the ride, saw beautiful landscapes, and met some nice people… I had beautiful memories in my head and only one desire: to leave again as soon as possible!!!

[aricg]

My First Week in India

October 12, 2017 marked my very first week in India. But before I go any further, please let me tell you guys about something that I have been feeling since I enrolled myself in this particular program. Honestly, I never expected that I would go this far in this Program Pemuda Magang Luar Negeri (PPMLN). For when I submitted the required documents for the application, I was full of doubt.

I wasn't so sure whether my medical checkup paper would meet the criteria of the committee or not. I also wasn't so sure whether they would accept the fact that I didn't have my student card, as I had given it to my department for the graduation requirement, nor that I had my diploma, because I hadn't had my graduation ceremony by the time the enrollment date was over. But hey, here I am!

Maybe I will tell you about my very first step in this journey up to the day where I and the other 136 participants were gathered at the Wisma Soegondo Djojopoespito, Cibubur. But not for now, of course.

My Indian journey started on October 4, 2017 where Eka, Wahid, and I had to fly from Soekarno-Hatta International Airport to the Singapore Changi Airport. There wasn't any non-stop flight from Jakarta to Lucknow, so we had to use the "shortest" flight possible there was, which was provided by Scoot Airlines. Despite being the shortest, we still had to transit for a long 17h 30m in Singapore before we could eventually fly to Lucknow.

So fly we did with the Scoot; and with only 1h 40m flight, we arrived at Singapore Changi Airport. We were planning to meet our friends, Darwin and Ocy, who would go to Delhi, and Fidel and Galuh, who would go to Mumbai, in Changi. However, as their flight was scheduled on 11.15 am in the morning, and at around 9 am, while we were still eating, they all had queued for the early boarding, we realised that we couldn't get the plan done.

We decided to join the Free Singapore Tour provided as the airport facility. The tour was scheduled from 11.30 am to 2.00 pm. Long short story, we went on the bus, visited the Esplanade, saw Marina Bay Sands and Merlion from far away, and went to Haji Lane. We didn't forget to take pictures, of course. After we went there, we decided to have lunch and then prepared before our departure to Lucknow.

Our boarding was delayed a little bit because some of the passengers were very stubborn. They insisted to take liquid–more than 100 mL–to the cabin. It made the flight security furious. But eventually they were all could be tamed. The 5h 25m flight was okay. Nothing really special. We finally arrived at the Chaudhary Charan Singh International Airport at around 7 pm local time.

There was a memorable thing happened upon my arrival there. The custom security were trying to match my fingerprints with the data on the computer, but it kept saying unrecognisable, no matter which finger I put on the scanner. All of the security guards were surrounding me like I was a criminal, asking "Did you use your fingers for typing too much or did you put something on it?", which came to my refusal as didn't do any of that things.

Turned out, the fingerprint scanner was in the wrong direction. The tip of the finger should be put near the side that was connected to the cable. As it as "one-finger-only-scanner", we might get confused which side should be place where. So yeah. When the other guard found it out and the computer said "recognisable" or something, we all laughed together. Eka and Wahid had to wait me for 5 minutes before we could eventually get our luggage and went out from the airport.

Outside, we were waited by the AIESEC members of Lucknow. There were Manpreet, Apoorva, and Divanshi.

The first impression that I got after I arrived at Lucknow, or India in general, was the fact that it was sooo hot. It was night and autumn but we still can feel the heat. There was also this "habit" of Indian people who love to honk, no matter how the road situation is, which made me a shock for quite a while because the honk was so loud and it hurt my ears. It has been a week now that I am in India, but I still got surprised every time a car is honking, loudly. The other thing that I found was that the city, is not as clean as I had expected. Clearly we also had this trash-everywhere-issue in Indonesia, but here, it was, somehow, dirtier.

From the airport, we went to Masood and Amarah's home, where we would be spending the night. Wahid and I were staying at Masood's, while Eka was staying at Amarah's. We all had our first Indian food in India that night, on October 5, 2017. Wahid and I had chai (Indian tea), chakli, and aloo bhujia at Masood's home (above). Then Masood took us to eat parata and kebab at Tunday Kababi (below), while Eka had dinner with Amarah's family.

The next day, Wahid and I had our first Friday prayer at the mosque near Masood's home. The sermon was delivered in Arabic, which I didn't understand at all. After that, the three of us had the Incoming Preparatory Seminar, presented by Amarah. After that, we went to Bara Imambara (featured image), a famous palace unit in Lucknow. I will probably post pictures of our short visit to the site in the near future, we’ll see. After that, we went home to Masood's and Amarah's home and we prepared to go to Sampurna Nagar.

We were picked up by the school manager, Mr. Guramneet, who will be getting married on October 22, but still allocating his time to pick us up from Lucknow. We said goodbye and gave hugs to Manpreet and Amarah, Masood was going out somewhere so we couldn't say a proper goodbye, and then we hopped into the car. The trip took us about 5 hours from Lucknow to Sampurna Nagar.

On the way we were heading to Sampurna Nagar, we were surprised by so many things. First, the highway was not exclusively designed for cars. There were people, bikers, motorbikers, and even cows on it. I didn't see that coming. That was one of our shocking moment while we were here. On the road I also noticed that the railroad here is slightly wider than that of Indonesia.

After almost 5 hours of driving, we stopped at the pizzaria in Palia Kalan, the neighbouring city of Sampurna Nagar. We had pizza as our supper before we continued our tiring journey to the school.

We arrived at around 11 pm local time. Eka had her own room while Wahid and I had to share the room together. It was actually different from what was said on the interview that we would be getting one room for each, but they said that the new building is currently on the making, so for the time being, Wahid and I had to share the room. We slept and had some rests.

The next day, we had bread plus jam and another chai for breakfast (above). The chai was slightly different from that we had in Lucknow, but it was still delicious. After that, we had the our time of looking around the school. We went to each of the classes and the were introduced to all of the teachers there.

In the afternoon, we went shopping to Palia Kalan. Basically we bought toiletries and some stuffs (below). We were bought a stove by the school shopkeeper, Paramjeet Ma'am, and the school chairman, Mr. Gurkirpal. We also bought 3 SIM cards after previously we had to struggle without the internet connection for more than 24h. There were a lot of messages. We replied each one of them on our way home to the school.

But after a few hours, the balance was perished. We didn't buy the internet package because Paramjeet Ma'am said that the card would enable us to use the school WiFi, which it did. But as the WiFi only covered a small area of the school and the signal didn't reach our room. So for the first few days, we had to go near the front office only to be connected to the internet.

On Tuesday, eventually, Paramjeet Ma'am bought the three of us internet package. It offered 3GB/day for 56 days, but as the connection signal was and still is only the Edge, we couldn't do much with the amount of the quota. Well at least, we have had our own connection without have to go to the front office. But sometimes, if we wanted to have a better internet connection, we all sat together near the office and enjoyed the WiFi.

We are now passing our 8th day here and we are pretty sure that India still has a lot more things to be discovered. We had this plan, prior to the departure, of visiting some famous places here, like Taj Mahal, Kashmir, the Indonesian Embassy, etc. We also had the plan to join some of the celebrations here, like Diwali, that will be coming on October, 19, and Holi, in March 2018.

As our place is very near from the India-Nepal border, only 7 km away, we had also planned to visit the neighbouring country, should we have the opportunity. Those all are the plans we have had. Whether it will come to fruition or not, we still don't know. One thing for sure is, no matter how we feel and what we might encounter every day, we will always be there to support each other.

I think that would be enough for now. I'm sorry if the story is too scrambled somehow. But well, I finally manage to write them down, just as I promised. Hope you like it. Thank you!

[earlgreytea68]

Iceland, Day 2, Thursday, August 13, 2015

Once we landed and got through silly customs, we found ourselves waiting around for our luggage. To kill time, we went in the duty-free shop and bought Icelandic water in fabulous vodka-like bottles. And I stopped at the ATM to get money. It was amusing to take out 20,000. Although it was the beginning of us realizing that everything is super-expensive in Iceland. We also found a little heart-shaped charm on the floor and amused ourselves with thinking that it represented someone’s abandoned heart. Probably Sherlock’s. So then we wrote a sad AU where Sherlock and John were both abandoned pieces of luggage. 

Eventually it was time to go get the car. We were met by a man whose name was Gummi and who was singularly uninterested in the international driver’s license I’d procured. “That’s nice,” he said. “Can I see your regular license?” So I gave him my license, at which point he asked me my age, like maybe the ID was fake and he wanted to check. Or maybe he was flirting with me. Who knows? It will be a mystery forever. Gummi also gave us a series of weird instructions, like be careful of little stones, sheep, and monkey men. We saw little stones and sheep but we never saw a monkey man and frankly I was disappointed. 

Gummi then asked us if we were going off-roading and I laughed and said, “Of course not,” because I am the least likely person to off-road that I know. Then L got in the car and took my GPS and immediately programmed it to include unpaved roads and we basically spent 40% of our time in Iceland on unpaved roads and I hoe Gummi isn’t too disappointed I lied to him. (Frankly, he probably thought, “Aren’t these people going anywhere? More of Icelandic roads are unpaved.”)

It was still very early in the morning and nothing was open yet so our plan was basically to drive on a bunch of Icelandic unpaved roads and enjoy the scenery. This maybe sounds objectively a little sketchy but it was actually perfect. The sun was rising-ish, and the roads were basically deserted except for sheep (Iceland is a late-rising country). Our drive wound through black landscape that was littered with abandoned shipwrecks that apparently no one could be bothered to collect so instead they stuck informative plaques by them and tourists like us go by and take pictures. You couldn’t see the ocean from the “street” we were on but when we put the windows down (sealed tight against the freezing cold and sudden squalls and RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIN), we could hear it, and at one point we all scrambled to the top of a rise and we could see it, gray and angry, the waves crashing with enough violence that the shipwrecks made sense. Every once in a while, a particularly energetic spray of whitecap into the air reminded everyone who’s boss.

Eventually we reached a lighthouse that was positioned so far in on the spit of land that I was convinced its purpose was actually to lure in all of the area’s picturesque shipwrecks. L later told me that the lighthouses at home also used to be farther from shore but our coastline is eroding. ! Rocked my world. Spread out around the lighthouse, stretching down to the sea, was a series of stone foundations with some old footpaths. We decided this was an abandoned fishing village, because I’d heard there was one in this area and I desperately wanted to see it. We finished our loop and it was still too early to go to the Blue Lagoon (our first stop for the day), so we found yet another unpaved road. This one led to some hot springs. Hot springs in Iceland smell like sulfur and, in their natural state, are basically at boiling temperature. So Iceland helpfully put some fences up and basically said, “Please don’t be an idiot and get yourself killed.” It was so incredibly knock-you-down windy that I got out of the car, looked at the steam wisping up from the ground for a second, took a panorama, said, “That’s nice,” and got back in the car. 

We debated whether to keep driving along the unpaved roads or to get to the Blue Lagoon right as it was opening. Because it was freezing and we wanted to warm up, we decided on the Blue Lagoon, which was good, because apparently you’re supposed to make reservations at the Blue Lagoon and we hadn’t and we only got in because we were there so early. As I maneuvered myself off the unpaved road, I was marveling at the fact that the official Icelandic speed limit on unpaved roads is 70 km/hr. I was going, like, 15. I eventually figured out how to turn on the four-wheel drive in the car, and that made the ride less bumpy, but I still didn’t go anywhere close to 70 km/hr. I had remembered the Blue Lagoon as being awesome, and it was. It’s just so amazing to dash through frigidly unpleasant air to sink into hot water. It was, however, just so windy. It was so windy that the RELENTLESS ICELAND WIND TM literally blew the iPad out of the attendant’s hand and into the water while she was trying to take a picture of us. We had to help her find it (the water is this milky blue color, opaque, so you can’t see the bottom) and we had to feel around with our feet for the tablet. It was so windy that my hair, which I’d just had done, was immediately destroyed. It was so windy we stayed crouched down to our necks, and near the wooden boxes where the hot water was gushing out so we could get it before it cooled off any. The weather was so unpleasant that I have to admit I’m not sure if Iceland ever gets weather I would consider bearable. There wasn’t really an appreciable difference between visiting in the winter and the summer, honestly. It was green instead of white, I suppose. Theoretically there was supposed to be a lot of daylight hours but it rained almost the whole time we were there so it’s not like we saw the sun a whole lot. We did the skin treatment with the Blue Lagoon sand, administered by a woman whose entire job was apparently to stand in hot water all day putting mud on people’s faces. Our entrance came with a free drink and L got prosecco but I was too jetlagged to trust myself to drive after a glass of prosecco so I just got water. Eventually we got out of the Blue Lagoon because we were starving. I was so hungry I could have eaten anything. I ended up with ham and cheese on a croissant. After eating, we decided to go into Reykjavik. It was pretty clear we needed heavier clothing than we had brought, and we also wanted to go to the Penis Museum. We left the warm confines of the Blue Lagoon and were immediately beset by the RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM. I was in a foul mood anyway because some tall person had made some comment about my height in the bathroom. As we struggled against the RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM back to the car, I dramatically announced that this was basically the equivalent of my Fury Road. Once we got to Reykjavik and figured out where to park the car, we walked down to the shops. We started by all of us making the all-important purchase of gloves. Then we commenced to walk basically the entire length of the city of Reykjavik. Reykjavik is not a big city, but that walk is pretty lengthy when you are doing it in driving rain and RELENTLESS ICELANDIC WIND TM. Honestly, you reach a point where you’re so cold and miserable you barely notice how cold and miserable you are. But as we kept trudging forward, I just kept asking, “We’re not there yet?” because honestly, we had walked to basically the end of the city. Highlights from the walk were a wine and tea shop, which I am the demographic for, clearly, and a Dunkin’ Donuts! Eventually, we reached the Penis Museum. Yes, you read that correctly: Iceland has a penis museum. It’s basically a split between a bunch of preserved animal penes (including human) and a bunch of things that Gareth on the UK Office would have on his desk. My two main observations are: (1) Men will look for any excuse to show off their own penis. And (2) Everything looks like a penis once you’ve been to the Penis Museum.

We perused a bunch of postcards that we’re pretty sure could only be sent to countries less Puritanical than the U.S. and then we took a deep breath and plunged back out into the storm. It was still raining, and we decided not to go on the multi-hour pony ride we’d had booked that afternoon, because there’s wet and cold and then there’s hypothermic because you’re not dressed for the weather. Our decision not to go horseback riding left us with a free afternoon. We spent it wandering into shops. I wanted Dunkin’ Donuts but there was literally a line out the door. We killed some time by ducking into a Christmas shop, where I bought a “surprise.” When I opened it, it was a lavender sachet and the label read “Providence, RI.” Illuminati, you guys. Illuminati. When we got out of the Christmas shop, there was still a line at the Dunkin’ Donuts, but at least it wasn’t out the door. Although it was busy enough that there was a guy directing traffic. “Why is it so busy here?” asked S. “Bostonians,” I replied. Here are the things that happened at the Dunkin’ Donuts: #1 – They tried to give me two donuts when I’d ordered three. #2 – I asked for tea with milk; they gave me black tea. #3 – They rejected my credit card, which I’d been using without issue. So basically it was a quintessential Dunkin’ Donuts experience, only in Iceland. It was actually really hard getting donuts in Iceland because most of the types were filled, which I don’t like. I ended up with a lemon meringue donut, which proved to be delicious when I had it for breakfast the next morning. I also had to have a hot tea because it was just too cold for iced tea. We decided to head to the house early because we were tired and we’d seen basically all of Reykjavik. I had to stop to get gas first, which proved confusing and at one point I ended up driving on the sidewalk. But why wouldn’t the sidewalk have a curb so you’d know your car wasn’t supposed to be there?? After the gas, I embarked on my first Long Icelandic Drive. Things I learned on Long Icelandic Drives: (1) Bad drivers are everywhere. They are a worldwide epidemic. (2) Everything you need to know about driving in Iceland you can learn from playing MarioKart. (3) Lots of cars in Iceland have broken tail lights and that is not at all alarming at night on their super-dark roads.

Eventually we reached the area of the house, so we stopped at a grocery store to buy a ton of food we would never have time to eat. When I was checking out, she asked if I wanted a bag, and I said yes without thinking, and then realized later that I’d been charged for it. Oops. Freshly equipped with groceries, we went to the house. Only the house didn’t have an address, so we pulled into the wrong driveway first before literally piecing together where we needed to go using a series of Google Earth satellite images. The house was down a long road that ended in a golf course on the left and our driveway on the right that I missed every single time I drove us home. The house itself was beautiful, with a modern open living area and a wall of windows looking out over some water and basically nothing else because we were in the middle of nowhere. It also had a hot tub out on the wraparound porch, which was fantastic. The first night L and I sat in it for an hour. I would say we were looking at stars but it was simultaneously too light out and too cloudy. Anyway, we were early to the house, so we had to sit in the driveway while they cleaned it, which was a little awkward, but at least we knew we were at the right house. They let us in but said they had to get toilet paper. I thought they said this would them 15 minutes but instead they said it would take them 50, so we took 20-minute power naps. Then we made ourselves a dinner of cheese and meat and crackers. Then I realized that Bank of America had been calling me about suspicious activity on my card. I was annoyed because I had alerted them of my travel plans. When I went online to fix it, I realized that it had indeed been the Dunkin’ Donuts charge that had raised the flag. “Do they not know you at all?” marveled S. And then L and I went in the hot tub and then we all called it a night.

[topicprinter]

The SetupIt was 2006 I was in Germany and I was all of 17 yrs old when one night my friend and I went to an event at a night club. I ended up talking to the club owner late at night and he had a problem.His club wasn't in a main area of town and he needed to get people into his great club, but taxis were expensive, and he wanted to control the experience.In my drunken state I knew I had a few thingsTechnological savyMy friend was the manager of a rental car agencyI said "What if I could make an exclusive VIP transport service from people's homes to your club and back for say...10 euro round trip within 20 KM of here"We agreed to meet up in a few days to discuss the details...when were both sober.The PlanI went home and hashed out a plan. He's have a big event at his club, I would rent out vans hire drivers have people RSVP to the event each person pays 10 Euro and that covers transportation to the club and from the club. In return the club will also pay me a commission on drink sales (Idea came from my friend who is a DJ) in addition the club will provide us with bottles of Champagne and Wine to provide to the customers as we drive them to the club.Idea being people say "Yes we want to go to this event at this club, pick us up here" when we pick them up we offer them wine or champagne we drop them off at the club they party, have fun, what not when they are done we drive them back home. We help solve his logistical issue, we get people in the club he pays us a commission on drink sales, we take 10 euro from everyone.Present plan & NegotiateWe meet up I present my plan...he fucking loves it. I asked for 2.5% commission he bulked...he countered me at a 500 euro flat rate we agreed on .75%LogisticsI head over to my friend who is a manager at a rental car place that doesn't mind cash and he says he can supply me with up to 10 vans. They can fit 8 passengers plus the driver pretty comfortably along with a cooler for the wine/champangeClub plans on having a small time boxing match, along with a few popular DJs from the year, hourly drink specials, etc. Plus 10 euro round trip transport to and from the club.Club starts promoing it...579 people RSVP saying they want to use the transport service to get to the club and back.O boy o boy I'm starting to feel like I'm kinda fucked didn't expect this many people...and i'm 17 (I lied and told the club manager I was 23)579 * 10 is 5,790 euros at 8 passengers per van times two trips I'm going need to plan to conduct 146 trips...that's a lot of trips. Start doing the math,4 vans 4 drivers 37 trips...that's alot5 vans 5 drivers 30 trips...that's alot6 vans 6 drivers 24 trips...that's alot7 vans 7 drivers 21 trips...getting better8 Vans 8 drivers 18 trips...ok...9 vans 9 drivers 16 trips...ok this is maybe doable?10 vans 10 drivers 15 trips....ok lets do this.So some vans will be doing 2 trips, some vans will be doing 1 trip. But lets be real I'm not actually going be able to get 8 people in each van, on each trip, at the same time...so I'm going need to plan for more. Goal...20 trips 10 each way to get all 579 people in, and 579 people out.OkQue many, many, many, many, many, many, hours and days of painstakingly going through addresses and scheduling/communicating our most efficient routes. I was doing everything VIA excel and google maps. Goal was to have a few vans do 2-3 trips and then for people further out have those vans do one trip.Lets take a break and talk money579 people times 10 euro is 5,790 euro. 10 vans at 90 euro a van is going run me 900 euros leaves me with 4,890 euro. I got 10 drivers...I got gas to pay...I also got a friend whose going be at the club coordinating this massive fuck twat of a operation I got myself in. That's 11 people to pay. Talk to the club, he agrees to provide food and non-alcoholic drinks free of charge to my drivers. So that's a bonus, ok lets pay each of my drivers 120 euros each.That's 1,200 euro, lets offer my friend 150 euros plus I gave him another 300 euro for helping me through the many hours of logistics. thats 1,650 euros. I now got 3,240 euros.Ok gas...I budgeted 60 euro per van. So thats 600 euro. Now i'm at 2640Club owner tells me my guys need high vis vests plus some kind of uniform...find out that's going run me 30 euros a guy. So 330 euros. 2,310 euros left.I'm feeling alright3 Nights Before The EventMy friend and I spent 4 hours each night trying to get ahold of all the party goers confirming their pick up times.Bad news plans don't go to plan.93 people opted out of our service...I had already agreed to hire the drivers, I had already arranged for the vans and I had already bought all the stuff. Sunk cost business time. 93 people is 930 euros. Still got 1,380 left over. Plus whatever the club ends up paying me.D DayEvent starts at 7:30 PM...we all meet up at the rental car agency at 3 PM I fork over 900 euros surprise surprise insurance isn't included in the 90 euros. Come to find out its 15 euros a van. I decide that 15 euros a van is worth not getting fucked. There goes another 150 euros. Ok I'm currently out of pocket 1,380 euros. (Shirts/Vests/Vans/Insurance) that was basically all the money my 17 yr old self had at the time. I had yet to collect a dime in revenue (drivers collected money when we arrived, we also had a plan B with the club if the passengers wanted to pay on card they'd pay 10 euros to the club and the club would pay me my 10 euros)We get to the club at 5:30 PM my friend (god I should have paid this dude more, honestly without him I'd have been fucked) hand out sheets of paper with addresses, names, phone numbers, and routes (drivers would use a GPS to get to the houses) to pick up our guests.6:30 PM first van leaves the club...to say my heart was pounding was an under statement.Some words of cautionAt this point none of my drivers have professional drivers licenses, we had no business license to be operating this service, and we had no business insurance of any kindFirst vanFirst van comes lands at 6:55 as scheduled and heads out for its 2nd pick up.Shockingly...pick up went surprisingly uncomplicatedHowever we did have 36 people not show up/cancel last minute with us. Doing the math in my head thats minus 360 euros. I'm sitting at 1,020 euros...(I had a spread sheet on the laptop)All the vans made it back to the club in time, with the last one unloading at 7:50. To say like my 17 yr old self felt like a fucking bad ass would be an understatement.Also all 450 people had paid us! Well about 25% of them paid the club, but the club owner quickly came out and paid me.RestFrom about 8 to 11 PM was a down period for us. People were having fun, we chilled out had dinner, I snuck in some shots...I was shaking. In my 17 yr old self head I had a 1,000 euros in my pocket before I got my commission.Lessons are going to be learnedTurns out just because people come together to the club, doesn't mean they leave together. Starting around 11 we had the first set of club goers wanting to go home. I tried to hold them in the hopes of getting 2-3 more people into one van and they lived really far out...After about 15 minutes of stalling club owner came to me and told me if I pissed off his guests he wasn't going pay me my commission...club was full lots of drinks were being sold that .75% was going be a heft chunk of change...ok fuck it send em out.Clock strikes midnightFrom about midnight onwards it become hectic with the hours of 2-3 AM being fucking insane. We were sending out vans, waiting for vans to come back. Our entire schedules had been missed up because our vans weren't dropping off the same people they had picked up. Which sometimes meant we had vans dropping off one couple at their house and then having to drive 40 minutes across the area to the next couples home. Customers weren't happy, I told my drivers to explain its part of the negative of having such an affordable transportation option. A few customers threatened to complain to the club...I didn't wanna lose my commission all in all I ended up refunding about 350 euros.I'm sitting at 670 euros.The sun risesMy last van pulled into the club at 5 AM. Only 2 vans had vomit in them (hell yea only two 150 euro clean up fees!) I tell all the drivers to rest as I close up with the club owner. After that we head to the gas station fill up, then to the rental car shop, drop off the cars, and go to McDonalds and we all go home.Club owner congratulates me on a job well done. Tells me he brought in 19,985 euros on drinks and pays me 150 euros. Fuck I wish I hadn't refunded that 350.Leave the club with a planned income of 520-15 euros.The Dust SettlesTake my guys to gas station, we spent 150 euros more on gas then I expected... Take my guys to McDonalds and pay the biggest single McDonalds bill I've ever paid of 142 euros.I'm left with 78 euros at the end of the night.Yes..I'm sitting at the table...realizing my friend...he got 150 euros for that night plus 300 for helping me he walks away with 450 euros in his pocket. Most of my drivers after tips earned somewhere around 200 euros. I spent 6 weeks busting my ass...and I'm neting 78 euros.Cops Show Up At my HouseIts a few days later I'm at home, door bell rings. Open the door and its our local police they ask me "Are you PJExpat" I go "yes" they go "Did you run a driver service for this club?" I go "yes" they go "Did you have the proper license to do so?" I go quite.I hadn't paid taxes, I hadn't arranged for any sort of insurance outside of the rental car insurance, and I was pretty sure I was in violation of multiple laws...the cop looks at me and goes "How old are you" I meek out "17" he goes "what the hell"Long story short the two cops ask to come inside, we sit down and they basically give me the riot act. Saying that several taxis noticed us operating and called us in. And they did some investigation and tracked everything back to me. They advise me of a high level over view of what I need to do in the future. They also advise me what I did was incredibly fucking stupid and that had something gone wrong like a car accident I could be in a load of shit...they then ask me how much I made...and I told them 78 euros.They laugh and go really? I pull out my spread sheet that shows how much I brought in, how much I spent, and what I had left over.The cop sighned and said "So I guess you can now understand why taxis charge what they do...all that work for 78 euros" I go "yes" and he goes "and had one major thing gone wrong...you'd have lost...a lot of money" I go "I understand" older cop looks at me, compliments me, tells me if I want to do this business go do it the right way, and they will let this slide2 weeks laterRental car company calls me, explains that I have 9 speeding tickets to pay and owe 270 euros.GreatI have now lost 192 euros3 weeks laterClub owner calls me and asks me if I'm willing to do this again I lay the truth I made minus 192 euros plus I'm 17 yrs old and don't have a legal business. He cusses me out, then tells me I have massive balls, and then gives me massive props for actually pulling it off and says he wont' do business with me again.

[adventuras-de-nicaragua]

Esteli Año Nuevo

The morning we were set to ride out of Leon and to Esteli was a sad morning. We enjoyed Leon a lot and wished we had more time there, however we already booked our place in Esteli. We woke to sore heads, thanks to our tour guide from the previous night and the Canadian couple we made. We ate breakfast at the hotel and enjoyed the rooftop balcony one more time before hitting the road.

The journey to Esteli was a long one, 140 km with 1,600 meters of elevation and a fierce headwind. The first half was relatively flat and we got to enjoy the views of the volcanoes as we exited the Leon region. Next section was a bit harder with the wind and a slow drag up. Alex and I kept switching who was in front to give the other shelter. Alex very quickly started feeling ill which made for a long day out. After a bit of a nasty climb, approx 1/3 of the climbing done for the day, we started to wonder if we were going to make it before sunset. The last bit of the journey was stepper and the headwind was not easing up.

After a couple more hours we came to the conclusion that we might run out of daylight and is it really worth it to cycle when we both really didn't want to? The answer of course was no, no need to kill ourselves on this vacation. I had read about the chicken buses in Nicaragua and have already seen several go past. A chicken bus is a school bus in the USA that is deemed no longer safe for the roads, so instead they get sent to Nicaragua and repainted bright colors. These buses are the local transports that cost locals about 30 cents and us non locals about a dollar per ride. There are no buses stops, instead you flag down the bus as you see it coming and a man who is in charge of looking after the people wanting to get on and get off signals the driver. The buses comes equipped with a fence around the roof allowing you to put your luggage or larger objects on the roof of the bus.

At about 95 km in we saw a chicken bus and flagged it down. I asked if this was going to Esteli and I must have not said it the local way and the guy in charge said no and the bus started going again. Just as they were pulling away another guy asked if I was going to Esteli, pronouncing it the local way, and I said yes! The bus slowed down again and two guys carried our bikes up a ladder to place our bicycles on the roof of the bus. We quickly got on and was on our way. The chicken buses were made for school children and def not Alex sized, he had to sit sideways and keep moving if the people needed to get past.

Only a 15 minutes later the bus stopped and told us everyone off, it was the end of the line. Our bikes were handed down to us and happy to see nothing terrible has happened to them. I asked a local and they told me if we wait another bus will come to take us the rest of the way to Esteli. Not more than 5 minutes and another colorful bus came with a big sign reading Esteli. We went through the process of getting our bikes on the roof of the bus and headed inside. This bus was packed and there was no where to sit and almost no where to stand. I sat near the door on the floor and Alex resorted to crouching over the luggage rack, mostly because he was unable to stand in the bus as it was only 6 ft tall. The ride was uncomfortable to say the least and at times so over packed with people the main guy had to ride on the outside of the bus. Seems to me these buses run just fine.

Once in Esteli we found our hotel and were sad to find out the water would be turned off for many hours, no showers for us. We weren't feeling overly great and decided to go out for a bite to eat and hopefully by the time we would come back the water would be on. Our inability to think kicked in and we ended up at Tip Top Pollo, a chicken fast food joint of which the owner owned the island we stopped off on our Isleta tour in Granada. The food wasn't overly great but did the trick. We headed back to our hotel and happy to find the water was turned on. After showers it was only 5 pm and we thought of taking a nap and next thing we knew it was the next morning. Apparently, we really needed sleep.

The next morning we woke feeling much more refreshed. We walked to find "treehuggers' the local tour company and see what we could do. It was very surprising to find that the tour company spoke no English and I had to rely on my Spanish to plan out what we wanted to do. The guy booked us to go into the Miraflor the next day, which we heard was a very scenic mountain protected area. A local family would cook us breakfast and lunch and we had to take the chicken bus there and back. Once he booked that, and filled out a million papers, I asked if it was possible to go see the Tisey reserve. He explained in Spanish that no more buses go there today and only way to go is by private truck. We said that was okay and he was able to arrange a truck and a guide to take us into the Tisey Reserve for the afternoon. However, none of the guides would speak any English so for the next two days we got by with my limited Spanish.

The Tisey Reserve was only about 15 km outside of town, but was up some massive climbs on very poor road conditions. Our driver had to make some 4 wheel drive or suspension adjustment half way up to get his truck to make the journey upwards. We first stopped by the side of the road and would have a bit of a hike to go see Alberto, described as a hermit who carves pictures into the rock faces. We were not sure what to expect and paid our one dollar each to see these carvings. This man has spent his whole life carving into the rocks and lives in a tiny very basic house right there in the country side. The carvings were impressive and very unique to see. We had the chance to meet Alberto and kindly asked in Spanish to take his picture. Our guide brought him some cigarettes as he was quite the smoker.

After seeing the carving we took oranges from the trees and enjoyed those on our hike back to the truck. A Holland couple were on the side of the road, the girl had injured her leg and wondering if they could get a ride back to Esteli. We told them that we rented the truck and guide and would be happy to, however we still were going to stop and see a waterfall. They said this was okay and while we went to the waterfall they would wait in the truck. Now this truck only had seats for 4 people and now we were a group of 6, so the obvious conclusion was for Alex and I to sit in the truck bed. Little did we know we should have been doing this from the start as it provided the best views.

The waterfall was okay, nothing overly special. The drive back to Esteli was scenic as we stood in the truck bed and plummeted out of the mountains. Back in Esteli we decided to take a long route back to our hotel and see what was around us. We found a taco place and must have been hungry already as we took a seat outside and got a couple beers and tacos. It was still very early so we wondered some more, Alex grabbing a slice of pizza before ended up sat in the center park watching the world go back.

People watching in Esteli was unique. It was a town with very few tourist and the park was filled with locals. Quickly you noticed the locals here had a different style from the rest of the Nicaraguan people we saw thus far. Esteli was in the mountains so more people wore jeans and lots of leather jackets and shoes. The young men in particularly were sharply dressed in leather shoes, good fitting jeans, long sleeve fitted shirt and sharp hair cuts with a bit of gel in it. Oh and you can't forget the strong cologne the men used as well. The funny thing was you would see plenty of very dapper men, but I struggled to spot the young females dressed so nicely. The young generation, teens to late 20's, walked with swagger as well. These were people you did not want to mess with. We would have taken a photo, but were afraid of getting punched.

The next day was an early start with a 5:30 bus ride out to the Miraflor from a pulpuria located about 1 mile away. When leaving our hotel to walk we noticed another tourist couple from our hotel getting into a cab, we had a feeling we were going to the same place. After we walked there we were unsure where this bus was suppose to pick us up as we saw no bus and we were just at a gas station. We indeed were correct and saw the other couple from our hotel, learned they were from Switzerland, and they showed us where the bus stop was.

When the bus came all four of us got on and luckily found seats for the nearly two hour journey into the mountains. I didn't know what to expect from the bus ride, but def didn't expect what we got. These buses, not good enough for the USA, snaked through the mountains on dirt roads that went straight up or straight down. Half the time during a steep uphill I was sure the bus was going to fail and we be falling backwards down the hill to our doom. Somehow this bus made it through and props to that bus driver for doing this every day. I not only wouldn't ever want to cycle this route, but also drive any vehicle on the road surface.

After a very loud bus ride, the chicken bus also blasted local Nicaraguan music, we arrived to our host family. They lived in a very basic house with an outhouse around back. The family spoke no English and we sat as the mother cooked us breakfast. The family had three small kittens that provided me with plenty entertainment, as well as many chickens. The breakfast was a traditional Nica breakfast and fueled us well for our start to the day. Our tour guide was the mother's 20 year old son. We picked the medium to high mountain region and started out on our hike.

The middle region was filled with these trees with old man beards, that we later learned were orchids. We saw a couple coffee plants and really just hiked around the countryside. Once we got to the high region we saw a game of baseball being played by the locals and sat down to watch it for awhile. Our hike lead us to another waterfall, not the highest but nestled away in some quiet countryside that was peaceful.

After our hike we arrived back to the house and was served lunch. After eating we still had nearly 2 hours before the bus back to Esteli and was unsure what we were going to do, turns out is not much at all. One of us would lie in the hammock another in the chair and we watched the world go by. It was New Years Eve and our host family was a popular place for the village people to stop by at and get ready. All the young men came over and spent longer than the females getting ready. Before no time we were slowly winding our way back on the chicken bus to Esteli.

When the crazy bus dropped us back off at the gas station we quickly found our Switzerland friends we made and walked back to our hotel together. We found they were a good couple to chat with and agreed to go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate the new year together. Alex and I happily had a quarto of Ron with Pepsi to start the evening out with while our friends had a cocktail. After some drinks it was already 9:30 and thought it best to find a restaurant. Being New Years Eve not much was open and ended up at probably the poshest restaurants in town, a steak house. Alex and I looked at each other than realized its New Year's Eve and steak did sound really good. The steak was bigger than I could eat and I had a side of veggies that really was a dish on its own!

After dinner we walked around looking for a bar to ring in the New Year. Unfortunately everywhere was closed. We walked past one we thought had a chance of being open and were sad to see it was closed as well. A man next door called us over and asked us what we were looking for. We asked him if he knew any bars that would be open. He explained that he owned the bar next door that was now closed, however we would be happy to join his family's celebration. We all looked at each other and quickly accepted. We sat in high bar stools and chatted for awhile before the main event got set up. It is custom to burn a man made of straw and fireworks on the streets. This symbolizes burning away the bad from the previous year and starting a new for the new year. We have seen several of this scarecrow man around town and now understood the significance.

At midnight one of the guys dripped oil all over the man and set him on fire. We were only 10 meters across the street as the fireworks went off and pure chaos. Alex ended up getting burned by a piece of plastic the man was sat in when they burned him, but besides that shocked no other accidents occurred. The Nica family told us tomorrow there will be many reports of accidents due to this tradition, but its a tradition. The man guy also gave us a brief history of Nicaragua pointing out to me specifically all the times the US tried to take over and how the locals won the wars.

[travelling-trooper-blog]

Today was the day I’d been looking forward to the most in all of our time in Norway. Today, we would be climbing Trolltunga. The name translates to Troll Tongue. (I told you they have a weird troll obsession here in Norway.)

Just getting to the start of the hike was no easy feat. First we had to catch the 8:20 bus from Bergen to Odda. The bus then had to drive on to a ferry before dropping us off at the Odda bus station.

Once there, there was a taxi van taking people up to the start of the trail.

Unfortunately, first Trevor and I had to drop off two of our three bags at a nearby hotel so that we just had to carry the essentials. By the time we got back, though, the taxi van had gone, and there were only six people from our bus left–two Polish girls and four French friends. We called a taxi together, and they said they’d be by shortly.

It turned out, though, that there were only two taxi cars in all of the tiny town of Odda, and one of them had to always be within the town; that meant that only one car would be able to go up to Trolltunga at a time.

The four French people got in the first taxi, and the Polish girls and I had to wait for him to wait for the next one. We got to talking while we waited, and I found out that Kasia is a Law student in her final year, and Eliza is a Business student of some kind, if I’m not mistaken.

By the time we arrived at the start of the trail, we’d already lost a good 50 minutes. To my surprise, the French people were still there waiting for us. Apparently while I’d gone to the hotel, the six of them had agreed to hike together. Eliza and Kasia asked me if I wanted to join their group, and I agreed.

The first four kilometres of the fourteen kilometre hike are pretty brutal. There’s a car park at the top, so you could potentially drive up there and start at the four km mark, but it cost a pretty penny, so we opted not to. Those four kilometres were hard on the knees, but I managed.

We quickly realized, though, that the four French friends were going to slow us down. I wasn’t too keen on this, since my plan was to actually hike back halfway down the mountain and camp for the night; that wouldn’t be possible if we didn’t get to the top until close to sunset. Nonetheless, we continued as a group of seven, Kasia, Eliza, and I waiting periodically for the others to catch up.

Close to the 6 km mark, we took a break. Up until this point, the weather had been beautiful. Then the clouds arrived.

And they never left.

Not long after our lunch break, Kasia, Eliza, and I lost our French compatriots. They were simply too slow. We continued on as a trio.

The hike actually got significantly easier at that point, too, which is why it was so weird that they fell so far behind. The further and further up we went, the more beautiful the view became.

When we hit the 11 km mark, I got excited. Only three kilometres left! By that time, it seemed like an eternity between each kilometre mark.

Then we hit two km.

Then one more.

And we did it!

It was raining, it was cold, my jacket was drenched…but none of that mattered anymore! Just look at that view!

After taking pictures, it was time for us to part ways. The girls were going to camp up at the top, while I needed to make my way back down as soon as possible. We’d made it up in 5.5 hours, and there were just two hours left until sunset at quarter past eight. I needed to make the most of that time. We hugged farewell, and I was off.

Maybe the beauty of the view at the top re-energized me, but I was suddenly sprinting down the mountain. I felt great. I managed to make it to the 7 kilometre mark just as the sun was setting, and I set up the tent for the night.

This is where things turned ugly.

1) It was raining and seven degrees that night.

2) My jacket and basically everything I was wearing was drenched, so I had to change into a dry set of clothes–but with no jacket.

3) My cheap Tokmanni tent I got in Finland was letting in rain from somewhere. I couldn’t figure out where. The top of the tent was perfectly covered. It almost seemed like it was just coming through the sides of the tent.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep very well that night. I probably got about a solid hour of sleep.

I woke up at 4:15 to give myself enough time to have a quick breakfast, pack everything up, and hit the road. I was good to go by 5:00, and armed with just my phone flashlight, I ventured off into the dark.

One thing hadn’t occurred to me about this plan. For most of the hike, you had a clear set path to follow; however, there were times where you were out in the open, and you had to rely on rocks as your navigators. They usually had a red T painted on them to point the way. This wasn’t so easy in the dark, and I ended up getting really, really lost. I was walking around in circles like an idiot. I knew I’d taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque when I realized I was no longer walking on any sort of a rock path. I was walking on wet grass and bushes. By then, I’d made quite a long descent, and I really didn’t want to have to start walking back up again. I started walking in circles, looking for hints of a trail. I walked back up for a while. I walked to the right. I walked to the left. There was no trail to be found. All I found was extremely slippery wet rocks that caused me to tumble a few times.

Eventually, I gave up, and just took a seat on a rock. I had to accept that I was lost, and that I wouldn’t be able to do anything until the sun came up.

Then I saw it.

I saw a bright light way off in the distance, close to what had to be the Skjeggedal parking lot. It had to be. Or at least, it had to be in that genera direction. And when I kept looking, I saw what had to be a trail. My eyes followed the trail, and I thought I saw a way back up. Huzzah!

I’d probably lost 30-40 minutes during this little detour, but I’d made it back. The rest of the walk was a breeze. I have to admit, though, there was a while there where I thought to myself, “This is officially the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” It probably is. I was worried I’d either drop and break my phone while trying not to slip on the rocks, or that I’d tumble and hurt myself.

In the end, everything worked out perfectly, though, because I made it back to the first 4 kilometres of the hike just as a taxi driver was driving some hikers up to the car park. When the cabby came back down, I hailed him down, and asked him to take me to the bus station. Thanks to him, I was able to make it in time to catch the first bus back to Bergen.

And so, I’m writing this from the warm confines of the Bergen airport, phone intact, and Uri intact.

I bow my head in respect to the almighty Trolltunga. You certainly whopped my ass.

The Travelling Trooper Climbs Trolltunga Today was the day I'd been looking forward to the most in all of our time in Norway.

[britttracey]

EVU DNF : six letters, so much disappointment

**Elk Valley Ultra** How was I supposed to pass up a chance to run an ultra 20 minutes from my house? I just couldn't. I knew the trails-ish, it was relatively cheap, and it was the inaugural running. There was no way I was passing it up. Elk Valley Ultra is a 50k race through the mountains of Fernie, BC, boasting 2800m of elevation gain and the ability to run it as a relay team split into three legs. There are no on course aid stations, only a small selection of things at the transition areas between legs. It's hosted by the local trail running club, Stag Leap Running Co. My training for this has been mediocre at best, for whatever reason I decided subconsciously that I would just run whatever I felt like running as long as I was gradually increasing my distances. Ugh. I only got in 3 32km runs (20 miles). My training is all on strava. It's nothing impressive. With the lack of on course aid and no one crewing me, I had to put together two drop bags and rely on that and what I could carry. I gave myself only one goal: finish the fucker, even DFL is better than DNF. With a 13 hour cutoff I figured I could manage. Why do I keep signing up for things like this? Who the fuck knows. **Friday July 28, 2017** I had an epically good sleep and woke up to promptly drive to the running store and purchase everything in there. I then fumbled around my house frantically putting together my drop bags. I've never put together drop bags before and just kinda winged it, thinking of the things I might need at km 20.5 and 37. I opted not to do a shakeout run as I spent most of the day pacing back and forth. At 4 pm I drove the 20 minutes into Fernie to register and pick up my race package. The thing I like most about doing these races are the people. You start to see the same people around at races and on social media and strava, and then it's like a fun little reunion at package pickup. All my friends are faster than me so the chances of seeing them on course are very slim haha. I headed home, had dinner and went to bed as early as possible after drinking all the water I possibly could. **Saturday July 29, 2017** **Pre race** My alarm went off at 4 am and I whispered to myself: "You could just not show up... DNS." I shook it off. No way, I was nervous but it was going to be one hell of an adventure and there was no way I was going to back out of it. I put together the last of my gear, ate breakfast and loaded up to make the 20min drive to the start line. I was starting to get zen. **Leg one** "Don't trust any thoughts you have while climbing" *20.5km, 1,480m vertical gain.* The race started at 6 am, I lined up at the back, wished my friends good luck and off we went. The group took off at a blazing pace for whatever reason, the first two Kms were relatively flat but Jesus had no one ever heard of Ultra pace? I tried to remember to run my own race. We came onto the trail head for Mt. Fernie and the climb began. "Jesus this is just the first climb, I can't do this." The negative thoughts started early on in this race and honestly surprised me. But I just kept telling myself not to trust any thoughts you have while climbing a mountain. I hit the top relatively unscathed at about km 7 and felt a million times better. The trail off the other side of the mountain is called "Rocky Road" and for good reason, it's steep and narrow and full of rocks and boulders and completely unrunnable in places. I held on to a fast walk Pace through here, and felt pretty great, the scenery was fucking insanely beautiful. It was in here I started taking salt pills, my friends swear by them and I have used them a couple of times. I started taking them every hour to hour and a half. We hit the second climb into Windy Pass which was much shorter but steeper than the first climb and my legs said nope. I maintained a slow shuffle to the top, and passed a guy who was puking into the bushes. This was an omen for my later race. After the climb the rest of the leg was pretty uneventful. I managed a good little trot for most of it, spent some time with a couple really awesome folks from the prairies and worked my way back down to transition area one where my drop bag was waiting, the only thing that seemed to be the same for everyone I spoke with was the fact that the aid stations were way off. The first was supposed to be at 20.5, so I started sucking my water back around 19.5. I didn't hit the AS until km 22.1. So I spent longer than I would've liked without water as the temps started to climb. *Drop bag at end of leg one* Smaller pre-filled (water/infinit) race vest, change of clothes, jacket and gloves, k tape and mile skin, cooling towel, sunscreen, body glide,turkey jerky, boost, dried apricots, pretzels and skratch gummies. I changed my pack, sunscreened up and soaked my cooling towel before heading off into leg 2. **Leg two** "Screaming and crying" *16.5km, 720m of vertical gain.* My notes for the first section of leg two simply say: "hot stumble food", which basically sums it up. The trail leading out of the AS was flat and hot, I figured it would be a good time to play nutrition catch up as I was having a hard time eating with all the climbing. I stumbled over roots while sucking the salt off of pretzels in the hot open sun. I hit the 25km mark at 6 hours into the race and cringed as I sent out a text saying I was going to be looking at a 12 hour finish. I crossed over the road and onto the trail for the first climb. I was firmly holding up the rear with maybe a handful of people behind me and I remember clearly thinking, "I am the caboose", this may have been the last rational thought I had. The climb started and it opened right up to the blaring sun, in km 28 I found the two best little streams ever though and got everything as wet as I could both times, I honestly contemplated drinking from the second one. The project 9 climb was where things started to go wrong, I found myself stopping periodically to catch my breath, there were hot spots growing on my feet, a big horse fly wouldn't leave me alone. I stopped and screamed at the fly "Fuck off just fuck off!!" While swinging wildly at it, I was starting to lose my shit. I sat down to dump my shoes out and contemplated not getting back up, but I did. I threw up. I threw up again. And then we started down hill. "Huh? That climb was shorter than I remembered?" I pondered. It wasn't, they just had us drop down to climb back up again. I threw up some more, took a salt pill, drank some water and sat down. I cried on a log in the middle of the trail. I got back up and kept going. I kept stopping. I couldn't eat. I'd never felt so bad in my entire life. I got up the climb and stumbled the traverse across the side of the mountain in the sun so I could get back into the trees. Finally some shade and downhill, I tried to pick it up into a light jog but the motion just made me sick again. I looked at my watch, cutoff for ta2 was so close. So fucking close. I aimed for a fast walk and shut off my brain. I finally hit the part of the trail where I had picked huckleberries with my friend and our kids on a recon mission the week before, I grabbed a couple as I went by and ate them, they were so good. I washed them down with a bit of hot water from my pack and promptly threw them up. Ate a few more. They stayed down. Huh? Maybe I'd be okay. (My notes here say "huckleberry revival" haha) My watch said the AS was only a km away at km 37 and I had 30 minutes to get there! Maybe I'd be okay. "Where the fuck is the aid station?" My watch rolled over to km 38 and I still had a long way to go. The cutoff clicked closer. I fought off tears as I realized at my current pace I'd need at least 3.5 hours to get through the last section which was open and hot for one of the climbs and still another 600m of climbing. I didn't roll into to AS 2 until km 40.5. With 2,230m of climbing. With 8 minutes left before cut off. I sat down in the medic tent and let the nice volunteers hose me down with a spritzer while the doctor put ice on my neck. I was advised that the leg was at least a km longer than advertised which meant at km 40 I still had another 14-15 km to go. I made the choice to drop. DNF'ing for the first time ever. At my second ultra. I waited for a friend to come and pick me up, defeated and still unable to eat anything. **Post race** As I sat with my friends who had finished listening to war stories and being told I did really well despite the circumstances I couldn't help but feel defeated and disappointed in myself. I should've kept going and tried. Even crossing the line past cutoff was better than DNFing, surely. I could've stumble/puke/cried my way up two more hills and back down, right? I'm not a fucking quitter, this isn't me. Did I just drop? Fuck. My awesome friends reassured me and told me not to be hard on myself, and I suppose I'll feel better once I get some distance from the whole ordeal, but DNFing fucking sucks. Sometimes shit just doesn't go to plan. **Final Thoughts** I wish I knew what happened so I could fix it for next time. I have another chance at 50k in a few weeks. I'm contemplating pulling out but I shouldn't make any big decisions right now. It's hotter and more exposed, but I've finished it before. I'm coming back better next year though for sure to take this race down. It was a hard event. Very self reliant. But the volunteers were fucking amazing and the scenery made every torturous step worth while. I might even go try it solo when the weather calms the fuck down.

[birthday2birthday]

Day 41: Tuesday, May 30, 2017

so soccer was wild lol actually it wasn’t wild but it was pretty nice tbh I was so excited it’s just the fact that its so early in the morning and makes me wanna die bc im just too tired lmao kms I came home and tatyana was still asleep so I took a shower and fell asleep on the couch. Tatyana left at around 11 and then I basically did nothing for a while.

I texted q and asked if he still wanted to meet up at like 4 but he took forever to reply. It was like 7:30 and we were supposed to meet up at 8, and he still hadn’t replied back so I was kinda just like??? I was gonna wait until it turned 8 to tell him to just forget about meeting up but then he texted me and I couldn’t, not text back omg. So I left the house at around 8:30 and then I was waiting for him to text back so I just drove around until he texted me. I sound so dumb but man I wanted to see him lol… he texted me where to meet him at around like 9 and by then, I was pretty far away but anyways, I met him and we went somewhere and made out lol… we tried to French kiss but that is obviously a skill far too advanced for me lmaoooo he had asked if I wanted to try and I just shrugged and went make to making out and then all of sudden he stuck his tongue in his mouth and I was hella surprised and stratred laughing…

idk it was overall v good, but I checked my phone and only had like 10 minutes until I had to be home so we left where we were so we could go back to my car. And he got out of his car to say goodbye, and we started making out again and he had his hands all on my ass im into it lololol and then I was about to leave and I was like “ya know, I didn’t get them 3 spankings on Friday and I didn’t expect him to do anything, but he fr bent me over and gave me 3 spankings I was fucking dead omgggg but yeah OH FUVK I JUST REMEMBERED A VERY MAJOR PART OMG I CANT BELIEVE I AALMOST FORGOT

okay so like when we were driving back to go to my car, I was lying down in the passenger seat, holding his hand, my feet out the window.. and in my head I was like its now or ever so I better just do it so I was like “so are you planning on asking me out ever or are we just gonna keep making out?” but he didn’t hear me and he asked for what I was saying and I was like “no nvm forget it” but he kept bugging me so i just asked again, and I forgot what he said but yeah

so when I got home, I got a text from him, and he said “bf gf?” and that was his way of asking me out so I was like “yeah is that really how you wanna ask me out?” He took a while to text back so I sent another message and said “im going to sleep so you can try again tomorrow” and he said alright. So yeah lol, that’s what happened