Super Sweet Helicopter Rides

My boyfriend and his business partner, Mark, just started a helicopter tour company out of the Fullerton Airport (5 miles from Disneyland). Take a ride, its f-ing amazing!

http://anaheimhelicopters.com/

It's arrived!

Because this seems to be a favorite for a few people, I will let you all in on the story.

For those of you that haven’t been to Bara Bara, it’s the local watering hole for the younger crowd. It opens when all the other bars and restaurants are closing and it stays open until everyone leaves. On a weekend this might not be until 5a or so. Gabo owns it and is there 6 days out of the week, so I got to know him pretty well. The bar has a very artsy-fartsy dive bar feeling. Palapa style roof, with many much needed fans blowing downward for the dance parties.

I was Gabo’s early drinker. I would be in when he opened, have a glass or two and chat with him and his friend, Roberto, and then I was usually tuckered out by the time everyone started showing up. Not really normal behavior for me. Gabo is great and all, but I cannot stand his choice in music. I think I am the only one that carries this feeling so I choose to keep my mouth shut.

Now for the good stuff.

I had just gotten to Puerto Morelos, I had been there maybe two weeks.   As it seems to go for me, there was a hurricane on its way and it was going to pass right over Puerto Morelos. I am nervous as all get out. I have never been in a storm that could even be considered severe. There were a few dooseys in northern California, but nothing to these proportions. Before the storm even got close, you couldn’t go on the beach for too long because the wind was blowing so hard that the sand assaulted you, which did not make for a relaxing experience.

Naturally, I was really anxious about the impending storm so I would spend a good part of the evening asking Gabo and Roberto about the hurricanes, what I should do, where I should go, do I need any provisions? They were very calm about the whole ordeal and that did nothing to easy my worrying mind.

If the storm was going to hit, it was going to hit any day now. So, here I am, at the bar, standing next to Roberto asking him the same questions I’ve been asking for the past 3 days, it’s raining and windy, typical for a tropical storm. Then it happens. The wind picks up speed to epic proportions (at least to me). I grab the bar with both arms, brace myself, and look at Roberto. “Oh my god. It’s here!” My fear is not mirrored in Roberto’s face, what I am seeing from him is confusion. “Do you not feel the wind?!” He is looking at me with amazement and then slightly glances up. I follow his gaze. Gabo has turned on the fan above me.

Color me embarrassed.

This ranks right up there with drawing in Romanian. That’s a whole other story that is outranks this one, but not my much.

Ay! Gringas estúpidas!

We left off at the Great Flood of Palenque and now we move on to the “War” of San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico.

We survived the 7 hour bus ride through the curviest road I have ever come in contact with. This was by no means an amazing trip and I hope that it will one day soon make it back to the recesses of my mind, never to be thought of again. We had the privilege of riding with about 20 French kids that were not as wise as myself and possessed no knowledge of Dramamine and all of its wonderful powers. Lucky for us, we were positioned right next to the toilet, front row seats to the terrific things that were going on in the bathroom, smells and all.

Moving on from that, as I said, I would like to delete that memory from my mind. We arrive at San Cristobal. Thankful for fresh air and in need of a place to store our packs, we head for the massive, pink hotel on the mountain. Great views and according to Lonely Planet, cheap.  It was half right. We had a decent view, but it was a little more than we wanted to pay. We take it anyway. We had no idea what was in store for us.

A little sight-seeing, some food (I’m pretty sure where we ate was anti-gringa), a little more walking and back to the room to finish our bottle of wine from Palenque and sleep. Everything was going great. Good conversation, not too disgusting of wine, and finally, passed out. That is until about 4:30 in the morning when Kelly sits straight up in her bed “What was that?!” “What was what?” I answer her. And it happens again. It sounds very similar to a gun shot, but I try to brush it off as a back fire. It made sense, we are in the poorest part of Mexico and the cars are not in the greatest of conditions.

Just as she may be agreeing that it was probably a car, the noise happens again. This time though it’s different. There are many of these back firing cars at once. Panic sets in. Holy shit, they are f-ing guns.

Now, we are all well aware of the drug war that is happening in Mexico. I have been lucky enough to be in some very safe places, but I was unsure of what the situation in Chiapas was. I know that tourists are not usually a target, but we are 2 cute girls traveling through a very male dominated culture so you can imagine the images that were flying through my head. I was sure that there were going to be masked men breaking down our door at any second, but I couldn’t let this on to Kelly. What good is it if we lose our mind to fear?

Now the shots are going back and forth and they are sounding much closer. Is there seriously a gun battle happening outside our hotel? Now remember, we are up on the face of the mountain, close to town, but still in the trees.

We need a plan of attack. What are we going to do? My heart is racing a million miles a second and my legs are weak. I can’t know for sure, but I’m pretty sure Kelly was feeling the same. We wait for a break, in our minds thinking they are reloading and it would probably be the safest time to get the hell out of dodge. The break comes and we head for the door. “Grab your money!” Kelly yells just before we are out. Who knows, we may need it to get the F out of this country.

We sprint down the cobblestone stairs and head to the reception. It’s locked. Awesome, they have barricaded themselves in the office and have left us to our own devices. We ring the door bell and wait as patiently as humanly possible for people in our situation. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a sleepy man comes to the door. It isn’t even 5 am yet, I’m terrified, tired and if I was hungover that had been cured. What I’m trying to say is that my limited Spanish was even more limited. I am trying my damnedest to ask this poor man that we just woke up what the hell that noise is. “It’s was the thunder” he tells me in sleepy Spanish. I try again. This goes on for about 3 minutes or so before he puts his head in his hands. “Fiesta.”

It was a party for one of the saints. And those gun shots. Fireworks.

Sleep was not an option, nor was staying there another night in hopes to save a iota of dignity.

It's an adventure alright.

We begin at the point where we actually made it onto a bus headed to Palenque, Chiapas. It was quite a hassle making it on. We hop on our moving hotel and hunker down for our 12 hour ride. Thankfully it was an over night so we popped a few dramamine and passed out. We arrive in Palenque and make our way to the hostel. Chiapas is f-ing cheap! Kelly and I got this beautiful cabaña with screens for windows and a view of the river. We didn't know that this great view of the river was going to make for a stressful evening.

If you haven't yet, I would suggest looking up the Palenque ruins. They are absolutely amazing. In the middle of the jungle and you get to climb all over them. Poor Kelly was suffering from a dramamine overdose, but powered through it like a champ. After exploring the ruins we headed back for a little rest and some food. Across the street from our hostel was a great restaurant and live music! Since we are on a hot date we pick the table closest to the river, romantic and all that stuff. After about a half hour of drinking wine and talking, it starts to storm. Thunder, lightning, rain, the works. I LOVE thunderstorms, so I was beyond happy.

Wine, salsa music, great food, and great company. I notice after about an hour that the river seems to be rising. Drunk on wine, I start to get a little worried. Kelly assures me that it is fine and to quit being such a baby. Maybe not so harsh, but I'm pretty sure she was thinking it. I relax and keep the level of the river in the corner of my eye. And what do you know, the water has made it to the edge of the parking lot. This is starting to worry me because the river has raised, at minimum, 8 feet in 2 hours. Kelly makes a deal with me, once it goes over the edge of the parking lot and the car tire is under water, we can head back. Fifteen minutes later we are walking out. It has reached the car.

Getting out of the restaurant was an adventure all in itself. If we were to leave the way we came, part of the way we would be in chest deep water. There was an alternate route that took us through the jungle with directions from that staff that consisted only of 'look for the small bridge'. Thanks. We make it safely to the road and over to the reception of our hostel only to find that the entire property is under water. What the hell?!

There are a series of small bridges that we have to cross to get to our cabaña. Cute by day, dangerous and terrifying by night. We made one attempt to cross one of the bridges that was under 6 inches of water before we aborted the idea realizing that one miss step will put us in the rushing river. We wake up the people at the hostel and try our best in broken Spanish to find out how to get to our room, which at this point I'm wondering if it is really the best idea. Offering just as much help as the people at the restaurant, he points us in the direction of another entrance. To the right is Kelly crossing one of the bridges. Three hours earlier that bridge went over a creek.

Once again we are trapsing through the jungle, not quite sure where we are, but kind of sure we are on track. At last! There it is!! We've made it! But its not that easy. We have another bridge to cross and we can see that our first step is almost completely under water. Thank the Mayan Gods for Kelly. She hopped right out on the bridge and scooted her way across it and then talked me through it. There is a bridge under all that.

Thankful that we made it and our beds weren't under water we sat ourselves on the porch and drank a bottle of wine and took some long exposure photos. After an hour or so the water started receding and we decided it was time for bed. Above is a before and after. The after is when the water started receding, so just imagine another foot of water. Tomorrow was going to be another long bus ride through the mountians of Chiapas to San Cristobal de las Casas and it could get messy.



Stay tuned for San Cristobal. That turned out to be another hair raising event.

Let the adventure begin! ......again

Well, I should be exploring the ruins of Palenque, but instead I am sitting on my bed in Puerto Morelos watching Rachel Ray. Why? Because it is Mexican vacation time. Kelly and I got ourselves all packed up and hopped on a bus to Playa del Carmen to catch the bus to Bacalar. Turns out that all the buses were over flowing with people. Attempt number two is scheduled for this evening. Luckily we are quick studies and bought our tickets so we are guaranteed a seat. Due to the Mexication, we have to alter our plans. Here is a quick run down of them...Chiapas, Guatemala and Belize

1. Tonight - 12 hour bus to Palenque, explore the ruins, explore the town and then head out
2. Bus it to San Cristobal de las Casas. Hang for a few days.
3. 8 hour bus to Lago de Atitlan. This I can not wait for. Volcano hiking, kayaking, horse riding, yoga! Heaven!
4. Bus to Volcan Pacaya. An active volcano and we will be roasting marshmallows in the lava.
5. Tikal!
6. Belize. Snorkeling on the second biggest reef, cave tours, and Mayan medicine trails.

There may be a few more stops in the Chiapas section. Big thanks to Gabo who planned that part of it.

Hold on tight!

Back in action

I had a rough week of it. I glutened myself and that sent my world it to a tailspin. Thankfully, I have regained control. Lesson learned and it will not be repeated.

Now that I'm back in shape to do some traveling I am heading to Isla Mujeres for a few days. Hopefully my 6 Spanish lessons will do me good with the locals. I will return back to Puerto Morelos just in time for Kelly's arrival!! Finally a friend! She is coming to take some photos for the property and then we are going adventuring! Who knows what kind of mess we will end up in, but I'm sure it will end in a good story and a few bruises.

Let the games begin!

Could the world get any smaller?

A few weeks before I am due to head for Mexico I was on Facebook doing all the extremely important things you do on there and found that a girl that I was in high school band with and played second chair to on the french horn, Rachel, was going to be in Merida. Merida isn't too far away from the PM (Puerto Morelos) so I shot her a message letting her know that I'd be down there and it would be pretty rad if we were able to meet up. She agreed. It turned out that she would only be there for a week after I arrived so I hurried my ass over there.

I learned a few things on this mini trip of mine to Merida.

1. If you plan your trip right and you aren't cheap you can make it there from Cancun in about 4 hours. But if you are like me and don't do any planning and just show up at the bus station and decide that you don't need the first class bus that is only 5 dollars more it ends up taking you 7 and a half hours. Turns out, if you decided to go the cheaper route it is the locals bus and we stopped at least 5 times in every town we went through.

2. Take into account that you will be on a bus for many hours, so do not drink that massive bottle of water and large box of OJ you have on your person, as the second class bus doesn't have a bathroom and though it makes many stops, none of them are long enough to step out side and relieve yourself. When I finally couldn't stand it anymore, I used my small amount of Spanish to find out when we were stopping because I was about to make a mess all over his bus. Medio hora. Awesome, thirty minutes. That is about 28 minutes longer than I can last. Thankfully, the older lady sitting across from me can see how much pain I am in and makes the bus driver pull over in the middle of the road so I can run out and pee in the jungle. I have never loved anyone more than I did at that moment.

We'll fast forward 4 hours. I make it to Merida and find my way to Rachel and Luke. We have a great dinner and I buy my ticket to the opera that Rachel is playing in. I don't think I mentioned the reason she is in Merida. Rachel is now a professional horn player and had been called to play in their orchestra for 6 weeks. Which leads me to my next lesson learned.

3. Any expectations of the acting level at a Mexican opera should be checked at the boarder. I'll give them credit since they were singing in French, but smiling throughout is not forgivable.

The opera left a little to be desired, but the music was great! After that we headed to the cafe they frequent. Rachel and Luke (the fiancé) took off a little early so I was left with Charlie which was fortunate since I was staying at his place. This takes me to 4 and 5.

4. Charlie likes to stay up and he doesn't pick up on subtle hints. Late. We were there so late that the early morning cleaning lady pretty much had to throw us out physically.

5. Mexico is hot. Really hot. So hot that I had to sleep in the hammock because the bed was too warm. Luckily, I am a huge fan of hammocks.

The next morning we took off for some Mayan ruins. On our way out of town, we got pulled over and he was threatening to take the car.

6. It is illegal to have a car with illegal plates that is not registered in Mexico. It doesn't matter if you have a FM3. They can take your car. The only way around this is to drive to the border every 6 months and get a stamp.

Super rad. It's about 95 degrees with a million percent humidity, which takes it to about 300 degrees and we have no idea where we are. Thankfully, he was really stocked to the brim with patience and let us call everyone we knew and spoke to all of them. He eventually got sick of us and let us go with the understanding that we had to drive the car to Belize tomorrow. We didn't.

The rest of the day was up from there. We went to some small Mayan ruins, Kabah, and wandered around and even got to climb to the top of a huge one that hadn't been remade.

Now that we have adventured, it was time to eat. There was one place along the road that looked open, so we stopped. Best decision ever! The lady that ran it was really sweet and while we were waiting for our food she let us swim in her pool!!! It was an amazing meal with amazing company. After we had stuffed ourselves we headed back to Merida for some French horn playing and BBQ.

Unfortunately, I could only remember about 6 notes on the horn, so I didn't play, but I did listen to the 4 professional horn players that I was with. Beautiful. What a way to end the day. After the playing, we headed to the pool and start the BBQing. The BBQing didn't start until about 11:30p so we didn't eat until 2:30a, but it was wonderful and they were hilarious!

I wised up on the way home and shelled out the 5 bucks and took the fast bus. And I didn't have to make the bus driver pull over since there was a bathroom!

What a wonderful trip. I am now in the beginnings of my first tropical storm (TS ALEX), so I'm going to shut this thing down and enjoy it!

Hasta luego!