TheAdventuresOfDr

Quickly through Queretaro and Bernal

Driving into Queretaro I scanned the view through a weathered window seat on our bus and was awoken out of the dream I had of the city. The romantic vision of this old mining supply hub quickly disappeared like sunlight burning off the morning fog revealing the truth. The view coming out of the mountains and into the valley was sprawling outskirts of complex infrastructures and buildings. The bus station was gigantic and probably a hub for traveling all over the country. After becoming thoroughly confused finding local buses we wandered amongst a sea of taxi cabs waiting their turn and found what looked like an abandoned bus station of yesteryear. We took a stab at where the dozens of buses were going and wound up getting dropped off near the lushly landscaped Alemeda Park. Green grass, giant palm trees, and perfectly groomed hedges led us through the park and into a bustling intersection packed with vehicles and a sea of people. My first impression of this town was that the pulse of urban expansion was drowning out the heartbeat of it’s history. Downtown was covered in people, transportation, and shops with the echoes of capitalism bouncing off the historic churches and plazas that were sprinkled throughout. Don’t get me wrong and think that this place isn’t worth a visit because it definitely is. This is just a personal lesson I’d like to share about presumptions and expectations of a destination without any prior knowledge. It is almost a 100% certainty in life that if you go into a situation with expectations you will ultimately be disappointed. I’ve learned this before but for some reason it slipped past the guards and walked right into the corridors of my thoughts. The layout consisted of old, windy narrow roads intertwined with a grid-like system which probably came from Spanish influence. The churches and plazas visibly show Spanish influences as well but monuments of Indian legacy give the impression that cultures blended here.

Armed with our heavy backpacks we walked a healthy 15 blocks or so through the urban growth that swallowed this town until we came across Itza Hostel. Itza Hostel has a cute name, but it was run by some dude in his early 20’s and was sub-par for a hostel. After settling there we walked down through the historic streets and markets of Queretaro desperately keeping our eyes open for a different sleeping situation. We treated ourselves to our first authentic Gordita experience made fresh from a woman who had looked as if she had been cooking in that same 15×20 foot store front forever. She made us each a Gordita filled with cheese, pork (I think), salsa, and guacamole. We then ventured off for some beef tacos and capped off the meal with eating our first Mexican paletas (fresh ice cream and /or fruit bars). We have been seeing these things everywhere and had to try a fresh strawberry bar and an oreo cookie ice cream bar. Both were fantastic and I have been craving them ever since.

The layout consisted of old, windy narrow roads intertwined with a grid-like system which probably came from Spanish influence. The churches and plazas visibly show Spanish influences as well but monuments of Indian legacy give the impression that cultures blended here. There seems to be more of a city-backed market business here with designated metal pop-up vendor stations instead of the do-it-yourself tents seen almost everywhere else.

A slight mishap at the Templo de Santa Cruz had us on the bad side of the elder man that leads visitors to the gardens in the middle of the nunnery. We had been walking around for hours and just bought some desperately needed drinks with pocket change. One of the main attractions at this church are the trees growing in the gardens that the legend states a monk placed his walking stick in the soil and thorn trees bearing the sign of the cross. The entry was donation only and all I had were $3.50 pesos (roughly 30 cents) or a 50 peso bill (roughly dinner for the night). I placed the $3.50 money in the donation basket and was questioned as to why I didn’t give more money, in Spanish. After attempting to explain that’s all I could give (donations don’t feel like donations if they are forced or there is guilt involved) he eventually led us begrudgingly to the trees and led us straight out the side door 30 seconds later. We got to see the thorns more up close and personal in the plaza outside when a woman knocked over a whole box of the crosses and gave Elissa one for aiding the clean up. We then retired at the Itza and immediately located a much better hostel in the morning before leaving for Bernal.

Another confusing bus station scene later and we are off to Bernal on a cheap, low fare bus. These buses tend to make many stops along the way at little roadside corners that would have any outsider baffled as to how one would know it is a bus stop. When Bernal came into view I had one of those amazing and all too rare moments where I gasped involuntarily. Between two curtains on the bus I could see the entire monolith (Pena de Bernal) illuminated by the sun with a dark cloudy backdrop. Until that came into view I had felt awful about being so pushy to go hours out of the way to see a big rock. Elissa was being a trooper for supporting the geologist in me but it was worthwhile in the end. The small and dusty town of Bernal had one main street on the outer perimeter and dropped us off accordingly at an abandoned looking building. We immediately wandered into the heart of the town and headed towards the giant rock that brought us here. We hiked up hills, stumbled into a field trip, and saw some breathtaking views. We then wandered about looking at some churches, artisanal shops, and storefronts getting ready for the big weekend rush. On the equinox this tiny town gets inundated with pilgrims who believe the rock has special energy and powers. Thousands would climb up Bernal to get close to the rock just a few days after we visited.

After a long day we got back to the bus station and on another crazy local bus that got pulled over on the way to the city by a cop. After boarding another bus we had our first Mexican Chinese Food experience (not bad, not good) and settled into the hostel for a low-key movie night. It was Friday night and I took a small stroll around to get some drinks and took in the scene as youngsters were out and about dressed to impress for a night of clubs and bars. A theatre show just got out and I was in the middle of very well dressed Mexicans and felt at peace with the city and our decision to stay here. Next stop, Mexico City.

Tags: Backpacking, Bernal, Black and White, cityscapes, Landscape photography, Mexico, Nikon D7000, Photography, Queretaro, Queretaro State, Travel

San Miguel de Allende (and the surrounding area)

After a hot and sweaty ride on the 2^nd class bus (cheaper, less comfortable) from Guanajuato we arrived in San Miguel. We’ve seen nothing but warm, sunny days since arriving in central Mexico and this day decided it was not going to break that streak. In times like these I go through my belongings in my head and casually toss items into a metaphorical trash can to lighten the load. Backpacking can be quite tiring, and our routine of city shuffling is proving to be exhausting without a break in the sunny weather. This is the dry season in part of Mexico and rain is missed dearly. The hike up to the reservoir in Guanajauto exhumed an old leg injury of mine that feels like a pinched nerve running from the top of my right leg down to my ankle. I believe it’s all muscular and will work itself out, but after several restless nights I can’t help but wonder.

San Miguel is another iconic city along the freedom trail in the central part of Mexico. The streets here are very colorful and noticeably wider than Guanajuato and have that historic sense engrained within their flat rock and round cobblestone streets built by hand. We stumbled across some construction projects on our travels around town and witnessed the painstakingly slow process of placing the final cobbles back into place, making the street look as if nothing happened. The city also keeps its streets preserved historically by prohibiting signage from protruding perpendicular from the exterior walls of it’s buildings. This creates a very aesthetically pleasing look when gazing down any of it’s long, straight streets- but can also be slightly confusing when trying to locate something. San Miguel has also kept it’s religious history very conspicuous with its vast array of beautiful churches and plazas. The doors always seem to be open and you can respectfully pop in to see all of the ornately depicted religious scenes. Jesus is everywhere here and you quite often see locals making the sign of the cross as they enter, walk, or drive by a church. The Plaza Central is squared up in front of the enormous Parroquia de San Miguel Arcangel, a landmark of San Miguel. On our first night here we discovered that this week was dedicated to Cuba Fest and had a Cuban themed outdoor exhibit each night in the Plaza Principal. We listened to a Cuban performance and watched breakdancers perform impromptu in a gazebo nearby.

In dire need of some relaxation, we set off the following morning for some natural hot springs just outside of town. The local bus system in Mexico is quite perplexing, even with decent instructions. The Lonely Planet section of San Miguel seems to be written very obscurely and had us waiting at the wrong bus stop for about 45 minutes. After failing to find the right bus we changed plans and sought out the Sancturio de Atotonilco, a preserved historical church where local artist Miguel Antonio Martinez spent 30 years painting the frescos for the complex. The church was astonishing and the town was barren. After leaving we bumped into an American who led us to the hot springs we were seeking on foot. This place was a great example of how to commercialize a geothermal anomaly without making it feel like a dirty theme park. It was quite a spread of lush green plans, cacti, and ponds with a covered grotto fed by hot spring water. A nice Mexican couple that were at the springs gave us a ride back to town when they saw we were walking towards the highway to flag down a bus. We went back to San Miguel to check out some more churches and had some margaritas with some fellow hostelers at an ex-pat bar.

The only qualm I have about this pretty town is the influx of ex-pats who have retired here without a noticeable attempt of integration with the Mexican culture. It seems they have set up a separate subculture of businesses, galleries, bars, and educational lectures all geared for English speaking tourists and retirees. In my head it felt as if a memo leaked and stated that this town was a safe paradise to invest in causing a slew of people to start buying out haciendas, developing property, and setting up shop in this historic city. I don’t want to sound hypocritical (because I am a tourist and visitor as well) but when I see very little attempt to speak the language it irritates me. I’m noticing Americans tend to carry themselves in a different manner now that I find myself outside of the states. It’s becoming increasingly apparent, especially compared to the polite and humble culture that Mexico has created. Apologies for the pontification.

Our last morning here we took a hike to the northeast part of town to check out the botanical gardens. Succulents of all shapes and sizes were found in this preservation. A donkey found its way inside the conservation and it’s frustration could be heard booming from the canyon as it tried to figure out how it got there in the first place. This large canyon dominated the lower half of the preservation was believed to house the first water mill for San Miguel primarily for wool treatment. The water supposedly changes color based on the seasons.

Overall, San Miguel is a great place to visit and was a very warm, friendly place for turistas like us. The street food was cheap and great but the restaurants seemed trendier and priced accordingly. And lastly notable was San Miguel’s amazing outdoor public library where we would find ourselves doing research amongst a lush outdoor courtyard complete with big green leafy plants and a tranquil fountain. If all libraries were set up like this I would find myself reading a lot more.

Tags: arts, Black and White, cultural, Landscape photography, Mexico, Nikon D7000, Photography, San Miguel de Allende, Street Photography, Travel, travel photography

Guanajauto

I feel that a short preface prior to this post is necessary, although it has nothing to do with the actual post itself. Hence the following.

I am astonished and completely floored by the attention that my last post received. I never anticipated, although it has always been a goal for this blog, that I would actually get the spotlight and become freshly pressed. Shortly after it was published I checked my email from my cozy hostel in the heart of Guanajuato and noticed that I had almost 100 new messages in my inbox. I figured something was awry and was in complete disbelief when I checked wordpress’s homepage. In regards to the old adage about setting the bar high I think I’ll need a combination of a trampoline and a grappling hook to get back to where it was raised . I jokingly told myself and Elissa (my sweet and dedicated girlfriend/travel guru) that I have to really keep up my game now that people are watching. But that attitude and line of thinking will ultimately push myself to creating an artificial experience based on what I think will be better received rather than keeping my perspective. I chose plan B. I want to thank everyone who took the time to read and enjoy life as I see it. That’s it that’s all.

Guanajuato

I’m not sure that my words could ever really express the beauty that is buried deep within Guanajuato. It’s almost a proven theory in my head that I could tell a much better story through photographs than my vernacular limits will allow. This place is truly a diamond in the rough with a deep history full of Mexican pride that matches the charming tune it hums throughout the sunshine kissed days and almost overly romantic nights. A slight breeze accompanied us almost every day we spent here roaming the hand-laid brick and cobblestone streets and plazas that had the feeling of an old-world European town imbedded with Mexico’s culture. Each plaza seemed to house a picturesque fountain (with or without water), vendors cooking up sizzling snacks, and plenty of people taking a break from the chores and deliberations of the slow pace of the day. Street vendors selling donuts are just about everywhere here, tempting you with their take on these delicious treats usually set up on small tables that have you craving donuts like you never had before. The chorus line of “Take it Easy” reminds me of the ubiquitous lifestyle that everyone seems to embrace here. I realize this is coming from a travelers perspective and that there are very hardworking people here but it seemed like every night a different celebration of some sort was going on and everyone was out enjoying it. I fully approve of all forms of public celebrations and this town was chock-full of them.

Guanajauto takes pride in their city and this can easily be seen in the clean streets of this old mining town. A silver vein found in the mid 1500’s brought this area to life and it later became the site of the first victory for the rebels under the leadership of Miguel Hidalgo. A larger than life statue of El Pipila carved in stone looks down upon the city and serves as a permanent reminder to Mexicans that they took back their land from Spanish rule. This is also home to the world’s smallest mummy and the Pope will be here next week. Not bad for a little town in the mountains.

This UNESCO World Heritage city’s age can be seen (thankfully) everywhere you roam. Each building has a story written in it’s walls and ancient doors that any preservation society would tip their hat to. It looks as if nothing has changed (although it clearly has) since the mining days with underground tunnels through the rock and below the city’s streets and buildings. The streets are just barely wide enough for a car and somehow buses manage to take the hairpin corners coming uncomfortably close to contact with people on the sidewalks (I haven’t figured out sidewalk etiquette here yet but I always seem to be the one moving out of the way). Elissa captured the magic of this city the best (she is one of the greatest observers I have ever met) as ¨a perfect blend of the old with the new¨. It does have the ammeneties of a modern day city but everything is contained within these beautifully preserved historic buildings, stucco houses, and plazas that could never be recreated or duplicated elsewhere with the same effect.

The town has an orchestra of church bells, barking dogs, and roosters that seem to crow all through the night conversing with each other. Earplugs are advised for sleeping. Our first night we decided to go super budget on our hostel and wound up in a room that would make the bulb from a black light cringe. We met an insanely drunk Mexican named Poncho who spoke some English and acted out his conversation for us in a delightfully animated manner. I was dubbed “Danny boy” somehow over a few 40 oz Coronas. After a full night of restless sleep we awoke to the charming sound of about a dozen roosters announcing their love for the sun in close proximity. A bad food decision on the way out of Guadalajara added to my insomnia. We promptly set out to find a different place to stay and on the recommendations of a fellow traveler from Guadalajara stumbled into Casa Bertha (http://www.casabertha.com/) and settled down like we were living there. By the way, the only place to stay in Guanajuato is Casa Bertha in my opinion. The owners are charming, the accommodations are wonderful, and the terrace with the outdoor kitchen is heavenly. We wound up buying groceries in this town to cut back on the eating budget but did manage to go out and get some local fare too. The food in Guanajuato ranged from authentic Mexican to bagel cafes, pizza joints, and even Japanese cuisine. It had a great mix for a city in my opinion.

Students and artists showcased their honed talents in the Jardin de la Union adjacent to the Teatro Juarez just about every single night. It became a routine to swing by just to see what was in store. Beautifully skilled mariachi’s played loudly and sang softly to diners at the outdoor cafes while street performers captured the attention of crowds. Our trip coincided with a GTO rally race and we got to enjoy pedestrians dashing out of the way as cars whizzed around the narrow streets and tunnels.

We capped off our stay with a hike to one of the reservoirs that feeds Guanajuato and am paying for it currently with some severely sore legs. It was kind of scary to see how low the Presa de Mata was with the high water mark about 30 feet lower than stands currently. I spoke with George (manager of Casa Bertha) about the water in my best broken Spanish and he said it has been a very dry year and the water is dangerously low. I had to memorize what I wanted to say for a solid 5 minutes beforehand so it came out right instead of “Agua es no bueno” (my vocabulary is slowing increasing). I’m finding that I am uncomfortable with the amount of Spanish that I know and it is more of a hurdle to jump than I had in my head before arriving. I don’t like feeling like a typical tourist, and an important element of traveling for me is communication. And at the moment, it feels like a huge barrier to cross with native speakers. Practica, practica, practica.

We slowed our pace a lot in this town and stayed an extra night or two cooking up meals for ourselves and taking everything in. We both wished we had found this beautiful city later on in the trip, as we would have loved to spent more time here. But we had to move along.

I’ve also realized I have to stop taking so many damn pictures. This pace can’t go on and will ultimately slow down to a reasonable amount.

-Dr.

Tags: Backpacking, cityscapes, Guanajuato, Landscapes, Mexico, Nikon D7000, Photography, Street Photography, Travel, Unesco

Guadalajara, Tlaquepaque, and Tonala

the approach

Guadalajara is Mexico’s second largest city and deemed one of the safest in Mexico, so it seemed like a great place to get comfortable with the country on our new adventure. The night before our departure was its own adventure, spent clearing out the apartment and leaving us with 1 hour of sleep, severely exhausted and slightly delirious. After landing we grabbed a cab to our hostel in an older part of historic Guadalajara. Our itchy feet had us roaming the streets and I was pleasantly surprised at how relaxing the atmosphere was. We stumbled upon a plaza dedicated to the artist Pablo Neruda filled with street vendors offering tacos, fresh fruit bags, fresh potato chips with salsa and lime, clothing, toys, you name it. The warm breeze brushed our weary faces as we watched kids playing soccer next to fountains and heard Spanish chatter everywhere. I could recognize that this historic city was going to be a great place to explore and immediately regretted not having my camera at my side when everything was so new and fresh in my eyes. I shot almost everything with my new 35mm prime lens, and I think this might be my go-to for street photography.

Exploring Guadalajara proved to be an exhausting and worthwhile experience. Using the Lonely Planet’s Guide to Mexico we quickly started seeing the traditional and exciting sides of the city. Buildings showed their age with hand carved facades and small balconies at almost every door sized window with full wooden shutters. There were beautiful churches surrounding plazas teeming with Mexican citizens wandering about their daily routines and vendors with tables around almost every corner. We found ourselves on the outskirts of the city one day in a slum of sorts with tiny little shops offering specialized crafts in areas that I bet most would find a little uncomforting. But those areas seemed a little more authentic just a few blocks away from the cultural attractions. The massive wooden doors of the cathedral were opened up one day and we found ourselves in a cavernous church watching a couple tie-the-knot. 2 lb bags of fresh cut watermelon, pineapple, mango, papaya, and cucumber (about $1.75) became an everyday mid morning staple. With fresh torta ahogadas (drowned pork sandwiches with spicy chili sauce), huevos al gusto con chorizo with freshly squeezed jugo najarana (the best orange juice I’ve ever had for about $3.00) my stomach quickly became fond of Mexico. Most meals run us about 6 bucks for two and they are a treat for the taste buds. Just tonight we enjoyed two quesadilla gringos (lengua y bistek) and a grande horchata at a roadside taco stand. We then walked over toward the cathedral plaza and watched a Bruce Springsteen documentary while eating a freshly steamed corn on the cob with mayonnaise, cheese, and chili sauce with a backdrop of horse drawn carriages, children playing with bubbles, and a newlywed bride and groom enjoying the same treat.

On Saturday we found ourselves in Tlaquepaque, an up and coming artisanal suburb of Guadalajara. The upscale interior decorating stores lined walking streets and led to a carnival-like setting in the central plaza with, again, food everywhere. Leafy green plants, palm trees, and flowers were set with the background hum of music and children running about. A slowly drawn out Mexican sunset left peach colored light on two ornate churches while families strolled around enjoying a lazy weekend night.

Tonala offered the best street market that I have been to. The bus ride there felt like we were really in Mexico as streets disappeared into dusty untamed side roads with rocks, broken down vehicles, and buildings that looked like they gave up on life years ago. Closer to town the area started to take shape with artisan shops everywhere showcasing the talents of the craftsmen and what they deem as art. Unique large pieces of pottery, metal work, wooden transportation vessels turned into large scale ornaments, and galvanized stars filled the sides of the narrow streets. After getting dropped off in the city center we immediately were swallowed up into tents and shacks that were teeming with shoppers. This market was not for those with any level of claustrophobia as foot traffic bottlenecks for minutes at a time when a craft catches a shopper’s eye. Getting out of the tented area brought us through the side streets of the suburb with even more tables and workshops with open doors in every direction. After wandering around the side streets for a while we had to give our legs a break and sat under a straw hut with wooden benches that were more than inviting. A separate part of the market had even more Mexican crafts to offer on dusty streets on this hot afternoon. I think it impossible to see everything the market had to offer in one day. After nearly passing out we had the best burrito I’ve ever tasted cooked in front of us for next to nothing. The bus ride made me wonder how these metal tanks stay put together on some of the roughest roads I’ve ever experienced. Some bumps literally had us airborne off our seats while those around us barely even blinked an eye.

We are wrapping up our stay in Guadalajara and moving along tomorrow. We’ve met some very inspirational travelers the past few nights that have shed light on some fears and have spilled their views on the world to us in ways that I can carry with me forever. An older chap from England started his trip in the Northern border and is doing an entire loop ending up in Tijuana. He’s traveled the world mostly by himself, seen all but 3 countries in South America, and believes that traveling is the best way to connect with people and the world. A younger man from Ecuador gave us all his opinions and inside information on the best places to see from his journeys through Central America and Mexico. He speaks about 4 languages fluently and did so with others staying at the hostel while we sat in awe, somewhat ashamed by our limited internal dictionary of languages. He believes traveling is the best investment anyone can make in this world and I agree whole-heartedly. Two Aussies just got in tonight without learning a lick of Spanish and plan on conquering the coastlines flying by the seat of their pants. After about 15 hours of flying they dropped off their bags and went looking for beer and food. They know some places they want to go and the kinds of things they want to see. The Australian way always gives me a great laugh and awesome travel inspiration. Traveling brings about an odd group of characters in a play that is too often missed out by the masses. Guadalajara was a great place to start in Mexico but it’s time to move along.

-Dr.

Tags: Architecture, Backpacking, Cityscape, Culture, Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico, Nikon D7000, Photography, Street Photography, Tlaquepaque, Tonala, Travel

Upstate to say goodbye and prime lens testing

I have felt a little polarized about heading home for the last time before the big adventure. I am always excited to go home and see my family but I also knew this time was going to be it for a while. That was both a high and a low at the same time and it felt in the middle. I was also growing more excited about leaving this culture for ones that are completely foreign to me while at the same time being worn down by checking things off the list up to the very last minute. But anyway, I got to go home and spend time with my family for a little bit and took that opportunity to test out my new nikkor F/1.8G DX lens, my first prime. I got to hang out with the my mom, my dad, and my two living grandparents, some friends, and my upstate landscapes and towns. I don’t know how I’ve ever lived without one in my bag.

dad's concerned

Some highlights include:

Watching my grandpa, who worked his whole life as a laborer, get up and help clean up the garage we were arranging to fit my truck in for storage. Dementia is setting in but he swept the floor better than I was doing and didn’t leave a speck of dust behind. He did this for about 15 minutes and sat down with a smile.

Hanging with my mom and grandma. My mom made some more great food and I got to reassure them both that I’ll be safe abroad. I’m going to miss the hell out of them both, and especially miss my mom’s voice.

my mom and her shop

intense cards

Seeing a few friends. I didn’t have time to say goodbye to everyone but I did manage to squeeze in a few short visits to say adios. To those that I didn’t get to see personally I apologize and wish time allowed me to hang for a while.

Sully, Dre, and Les

Vince

Spending time with my dad. Like old times, we puttered around his garage and cleaned out places for our vehicles to be tucked away till we get back. He’s been watching my grandpa pretty much alone for about 5 months now and it’s no easy task. I’m not sure how I’m going to fare without hearing him on the other line all the time cracking bad jokes.

The Garage

Goodbyes are incredibly tough this circumstance. This is my adios. Later today I land in Guadalajara. Here goes nothing.

-Dr.

a snowy goodbye with love

me and my dad looking right

Tags: Backpacking, Black and White, Family, goodbyes, Nikon D7000, Photography, Prime lens, Travel

Leaving the country is tough

My new reality

There have been many hurdles jumped in the past 3 weeks since I “left” work. Left it quoted because I picked up two shifts for some extra spending money. I felt I had to in order to balance out all that had been purchased for departure into 3rd world countries for an 8-9 month hiatus from the good old USA. I remember feeling restless about the credit card bill, and that carried over into small problems and made them feel bigger. But as the departure creeps closer and the checklist is getting smaller the feeling of excitement and anticipation of what our new reality is going to be is growing. Everyone who goes out on long backpacking journeys has their own trial-and-error memories of what to bring and how to plan the next large chunk of a year out of your bag. It can be pretty intense.

The travel clinic:
My trip to the travel clinic was interesting to say the least. I got to deal with the fact that my insurance coverage in Rhode Island was non-existent because it was a Massachusetts insurance plan. I went to a travel clinic in Worcester and the nurse practitioner was not impressed. When asked to list what countries I was potentially going to be in my answer was met with confusion. “What do you mean Central and South America, I need specific countries.” So we looked at a map and I started naming all of them as potential areas. Four shots were administered into my arms to get immunized for the trip. A tetanus and typhoid fever vaccine in my left shoulder area and a yellow fever and hepatitis vaccine in my right arm. I almost passed out upon receiving the immunizations for no reason. I’m not scared of needles or have a weak stomach. This happened whenever I gave blood or had blood drawn but for different reasons. I think my body doesn’t like things injected in or taken out. After juice (not kidding) I couldn’t give a choice on the antimalarial prophylaxis because the drugs sounded either too expensive or the side effects were the exact opposite of what the trip was supposed to be about. Take these, but stay the hell away from the sun because some chemical in the drug reacts with sunlight. And all of the intense do’s and dont’s for health risks had me wondering what people who live there do and don’t do. Don’t drink the water (obvious). Don’t swim in it either. Wash your hands before handing any food. Don’t eat salads. Don’t eat food off a cart on the street. Avoid pork. Don’t eat anything that isn’t heated until hot. That’s cool, we’ll just be hanging around the equator indoors with the blinds shut from the outside world scared of getting sick for your entire trip. I chose the cheap antibiotics and plan on seeing how bad the side effects are. If they are too much for me I’ll figure out something else. Eh.

Things to buy/sell on ebay:
So I started selling off all my things I could think of that had some sort of monetary value and I could live without. I also had to purchase some important items that were unavailable in stores for reasons I’ll explain soon. This was both favorable at times and frustrating as hell. I wound up letting go of my old video camera and it’s top of the line fisheye lens, my truck, my rugs, my chairs, my projector, and anything else that was deemed unnecessary. I had to buy a D7000 on ebay because they were sold out everywhere. Their Thailand plant was shut down by a huge flood and the supply was gone. On ebay people were selling the just the body’s at a $300-400 markup . It took several weeks but I locked in a mint condition one at a bargain of 100$ above MSRP. I wouldn’t have done this had I been told I could pre-order and have it before March 1st (departure). The next shipment comes in this Friday (found out yesterday). Oh well. Then lenses, battery cards, and a new holster for slightly discrete handling.

Backpack: you’re newest travel companion.
My backpack choice was narrowed to two so I naturally bought both and will decide upon seeing the 2nd one. It was hard choosing the right pack for the trip because this choice was going to be a very intimate part of this experience. Living out of a backpack is something I’ve done before for a few weeks. This choice caused probably the most anxiety. I wanted something that was big but small enough to carry-on a plane. It also needed a detachable day pack. It should also need a rain cover. I found two that fit these criteria at a reachable price. I practiced filling my pack up with what I think I might need to bring. This is a process that seems will take a few tries to not regret bringing too much stuff. After packing and repacking and packing I think that I am finally settled on what I’m bringing. Tip: get compression sacks. They are amazing and should be used in every bag. It’s extremely hard to imagine what you will need for a big trip like this and I’m just flat out guessing but I believe I have the necessities. Headlamps, clothes for a week, boots, shoes, eyeglasses, pack towel, toiletries, camera with accessories, hat, sunblock, drugs, compass, bouncy ball, journal, band aids, wool socks, documents, and no job. Check.

Working randomly:
Since I left things with my company as an “I’ll work if there is something for me to bill” basis I was pleased to hear I could pick up 2 extra days. Although it doesn’t seem like much it came at a somewhat crucial part of the planning and researching crunch-time that it really took a lot out of me. That and the 5:15 alarm was not met with a smile.

Canceling shit:
You would be surprised at just how many different facets of your real world and digital life that you would have to contact to cancel or put something on hold. I unsubscribed to about 10-15 junk email subscriptions that I’ve been getting for years. Not sure why I kept them but still. Had to switch banks to a more reasonable one concerning international exchange rates and fees. I had to call my car insurance 3 times to get my storage insurance past the management (progressive insurance… progressing backwards). Bye netflix. See ya short term investments. Cell phones, change of addresses, anything with an automatic payment… It’s crazy how raveled into the digital world you can become in this day and age.

Packing up your apartment:
This is never usually greeted with open arms and I can say that it’s especially hard when you try and just have what you need to go traveling after it’s done. It’s hard to think about dropping all the conveniences of life and crunching them into a 55L bag.

I can tell you what a surreal feeling it is to being in such a familiar place as home and all of the sudden a factual thought stops you when your mid-reach into the fridge. In just a few days I’ll be in a completely different world. I will be roaming in a new and uncharted territory in a place very far from home. A smirk and an internal “oh yeah” usually follows. The excitement floods in and it’s something that can honestly be felt. Fear and apprehension can also be found here. I’ve made some contacts down south and I’ve been getting some warnings that can make you feel a little queasy. But all in all I know that keeping a good head on my shoulders and being aware is a great start. Learning spanish is another.

The closer the departure gets and the more goodbye’s that pass have drawn a polarizing feeling about the adventure that lies ahead. It’s truly hard to wrap your mind around something like living out of a backpack for the better part of year before you are actually doing it. My heart and my mind knows that once the starting gun goes off and I’m in the race that I will fall into the comfortable wandering version of myself that I have been keeping fenced in the backyard for the past few years will shine. But seriously, in the moment it can truly be very hectic to think about leaving your comfortable surroundings, everyday comforts, and familiar faces and landing in a country that doesn’t speak your native tongue. This plays into fears and your mind and ultimately convinces you that you are crazy. But once you see through all of the unknown and therefore scary parts of the mission ahead you can see that you are taking a trip of a lifetime. There will be bumps along the road, but they are nothing compared to the potholes I’ve been bouncing over before. The adventure awaits, and I’m ready.

Boat town, MA

I recently took a little stroll through New Bedford, MA. I never really heard anything about the town and I noticed it had some contact with the ocean so I just figured there might be something to see in this old New England city. I’m glad I went. Here’s some photos of what New Bedford looks like to me.

-Dr.

Walking home

sunlight on iron

White and Green

Compact

Weathered Metal

Santa

Tied up

rip rap

dockside

Empty park

summertime retreat

The Club

Tags: Massachusetts, New Bedford, New England, Photography, Sea, Ships, Street Photography, Winter

A month from today I’ll be in Mexico

last sunset at my bachelor pad

I’ve always wanted to say something of that nature. And now I can. March 1st I’ll be landing in Guadalajara, Mexico on a one-way flight from Boston. I’m nervous. I’m excited. I’m tired. If you find yourself wondering how you would go about setting this up, just follow these easy steps!

1) Save some money.
2) Quit your job.
3) Get rid of your apartment and sell unnecessary belongings
4) Leave.

please buy this chair

I’m thinking that people believe this is a lot harder than it sounds. I’m not naive and I know that every circumstance is different and that this idea is heavily dependent on where you are in life. It doesn’t seem possible for a full-out purge of selling off a house and toting your kids around 3rd world countries, but people out there have done that in the past and are doing it in the present (check out travel blogs, these nuts exist). But when you think about it at it’s simplest, it’s just 4 steps right? You just have to be willing to give up the lifestyle you created and take a big leap. It’s definitely not for everyone, admittedly. But I think the rewards are going to be far greater than the losses. But I also like to look at rewards from a non-monetary point of view and instead through experiences, and this will be chock-full of those.

ambitious field engineer

Sure this doesn’t sound like the best career move. But I’m not going to worry about that. I’m 28 and there is plenty of time left in life to make better career-oriented decisions. I just put in my last time sheet for work (unless I can get some part time shifts here and there for extra dough). 128.5 hours billed in the past 2 week period. This is not abnormal. In fact, this has been a normalcy for me for just about my entire tenure as a field engineer. I never did the whole backpacking through Europe after graduation thing that a lot of people around me experienced. I went pretty much straight from graduation to the work force. I was more than a little jealous of the idea of wandering around blissfully putting life experiences under my belt. Instead I worked my ass off with a focused and unforgiving goal of debt repayment. After 4.5 years of paying every extra dime I had at my student loans I got rid of my 6 figure school debt and find myself in the green… for now.

hanging steel in Rutland

The act of leaving my position was much harder than I could have imagined. My tightly-knit company has become more than just a job throughout the years, as I’ve been with them through some tough times and even seen their kids grow up. I’ve enjoyed Easter dinner at my boss’s house, been to their kid’s birthday parties, and was treated as part of a family member rather than just as an employee. It’s going to be a weird feeling not calling my boss and getting into 20 minute hilariously inappropriate conversations about life, construction bloopers, real estate, married life, etc… you name it and we’ve been there! I’m also going to miss waking up at the crack of dawn and starting my day to the white noise of construction equipment banging around, digging through the earth, and breaking apart rocks. Those are memories I’m going to latch onto. I’m going to miss the hell out of all of them, but I’ve known my departure was imminent sooner or later. Now’s the time.

hanging my boots up for now

I’m glad I saved this trip until now. I would have more than likely had an amazing and life changing experience if I did the backpack post-college trip, but I know it would probably be peppered with lots of late night binge drinking (what me and most others did at that age) and following the herd to touristy destinations with touristy things to see. I’m not putting down a trip like this by any means, it’s probably a thought born more out of jealousy than anything else. But now that I’m older I know I’ll be able to immerse myself in a more mature travel experience and mesh with the culture in a way that I think will mean more to me.

My mind is full of wonder of what I’m going to see. My stomach is giddy thinking about all the different kinds of local dishes it’s going to tackle. My stomach is also relieved that I’ll be bringing Imodium in case things go awry. My feet are weary from work but are beyond ready to carry me through the depths of Mexico, (hopefully, and I don’t see why not) through the streets of Cuba, around the Mayan Ruins of Guatemala, along the Panama canal, trekking to the lost city of The Ciudad Perdido in Colombia, climbing stairs of Machu Pichu in Peru, getting up close and personal to volcanoes in Chile, strolling the gorgeous coastline of Brazil, and find myself eventually walking the busy streets of Buenos Aires in Argentina. All of these are entirely possible and on my to-do list. I don’t have a set itinerary, so it’s kind of an open one. The only limit is just time and hopefully enough saved up to get me there.

So for now I’ve packed up my apartment and said goodbye to that pretty little spot on the cobblestones of Thames Street. It was my first apartment and it saw a ton of changes in me take place. If walls could talk. This next month is going to be spent preparing for the voyage, which has a multitude of to-do lists in accordance with a smooth departure.

my "cash for trucks" campaign

I have to mention that I won’t be on this trip alone. My girlfriend and I got this plan in our heads from pretty much the moment we met and are southbound together. This trip would seem rather crazy and impossible to tackle alone mentally. We both were at the same stage in life and ready to get our feet off US soil and do some exploration. Here goes nothing.

Anyone have any contacts down south?? It would be awesome to meet new people and get the low-down on new areas. I’ll keep this blog updated for those that want to follow the trip!

-Dr.

Tags: Backpacking, leaving the country, life experience, Long term traveling, Mexico, Photography, quitting your job, Travel, travel abroad

2011: A year in the making

soundtrack: “Down in the Valley” by The Head and the Heart

When I run through 2011 in my head I see a very definitive year in my life. 2011 was like a teacher to me and indeed schooled me through many life lessons. I admit all of these lessons were not welcome at the time, but I truly appreciate what was gained. I wouldn’t doubt it if I look back one day and see it as a turning point in my life. The beginning of the year was rough to say the very least and transitioned into something wonderful. I compare it to a childhood memory of mine when one day I became fascinated watching what happens when you throw a rock in a puddle. I was mesmerized watching waves burst from the entry point in all directions colliding with parts of other waves bouncing around from all directions. Eventually the waves lost their energy, blended in with each other, and things returned to equilibrium revealing my face looking down from above. I think it’s a Taoist Proverb that says, “No one can see their reflection in running water. It is only in still water that we can see”.

2011 started out with losses.

I lost a significant relationship and my best friend at the same time.

I had to say goodbye to my two pups (I miss you and your courage Beau, and Ruby the rescue dog will always be my little girl) as a by-product.

2011 had me say fare well to Boston, the city I had grown to know and love over the past 8 years. I bowed out leaving behind my home, neighborhood, and friends. I apologize for disappearing, but I felt I needed to.

2011 taught me how to let go.

2011 brought me a new place to settle into. My new home felt like a sanctuary to me.

I had my first solo apartment in 2011. I don’t know If I could ever have roommates again as a result.

I reconnected with an old acquaintance and met some new people in town. Love found me along the way.

2011 reminded me that I had confidence.

I made my final student loan payment this past year. I paid off 100K in about 4 1/2 years.

2011 taught me that I was stronger than I thought.

At one point this summer I could look back a year and list 5 apartments that I lived in. I was all over the place.

2011 taught me how to be alone with my thoughts. It did this physically by sending me to Van Buren, Maine for a company project. For those that don’t know where it is, look at the top of Maine. All the way up. Isolation at it’s finest.

2011 reminded me how beautiful this world truly is. It also showed me how amazing life can be when you get back in tune with it.

2011 showed me how rough things can be when you are approaching them erratically, and how easy they can be if you change your perspective on them.

2011 reminded me that I am a serial wanderer and I have been rooted a bit too long.

This past year I became closer to my camera than ever before. I took lots of pictures. I made a slideshow.

I’m ready to say goodbye to 2011. I’ve been ready. Nothing against you, it’s just time to part ways. I see big changes this year.

Sorry this is a month late. I’ve been busy lately.

-Dr.

Tags: 2011, Landscapes, Photography, Stop Motion, Street Photography, The Head and The Heart, Travel, Video

I (still) love NY

The stage from a car

New York City will always amaze me. It’s absolutely gigantic. I can’t believe how many people are living and breathing there all at the same time.

There’s millions of souls bouncing around in that bubble chasing some dream of theirs. This might be the same dream as the year before. Or not. There are those that have already reached them. There are far more that never will. But everyone is connected by at least the basic and ubiquitous idea of that dream about how they see things panning out. That’s a sense that you can honestly feel when you walk around it’s omnipresent streets.

Buildings rise up like monstrous fingers out of the concrete. Windows light up the night in these soft spoken homes and let your imagination wander.

There is an endless variety of food here. There are secret little restaurants, events, and places that New Yorkers know about that they want you to see too. Just ask.

New York has some of the best street photography settings. The bridges have so much character. The buildings are a time stamp and tell a history of the city. You can almost imagine what someone’s story is by their appearance alone. You can also (as I often do) create one with how you capture them.

New York is the pinnacle of messages. Spray painted statements about life, murals on the sides of buildings, and some of the coolest advertising that actually grabs your attention instead of blending into the background can be seen here.

New York has been the home of some of the greatest music, actors, and comedians in America. Thousands have packed up their instruments, clothes, and ideas and sought out the city that inspired so many before them. It has made superstars and has a constant stream of dreamers chasing that train to fame.

New York has smells and sounds that can only be found here. Where else can you get New York pizza? Where else is the warm stench of subway air so accepted as normal? It becomes part of the memory of the city experience engrained by your senses. Horns are part of everyone’s soundtrack and hawkers trying to sell you their goods on the street become a daily conversation.

New York has history that it loves to preserve. Everyone knows some story of someone who lived here, who owned this building over there, who knows that person who started that company in the fifties. I love how everybody seems to know somebody who knows somebody. These stories give off that feeling that life here is happening and you can be a part of it too.

New York is venerable.

I still love New York. I hope someday that I can manage to live there for a year or so. For now I’ll visit.