While hiking the Ixil Triangle in Nebaj Guatemala we came across a bunch of inquisitive kids who wanted to have their picture taken. After a bit of conversation and some initial shyness they were very quick to come out of their shell and start fighting for front position. Guadalupe was busy washing the lunch dishes and didn’t participate as much, but I managed to capture this photo of her beautiful smile.
Haggling for prices in foreign countries isn’t just about savings a dollar, it’s a full blown tactical sport. Natural competitive instincts kick in, you size up your target and attack it with a well thought out game plan. Sometimes the shear thrill of the chase can take over and become the best part. But before you hit the local markets and souvenir stands to try your luck you’ve got to have a strategy. Going in unprepared is the fastest way to watch those precious travel savings disappear. If you’re a seasoned veteran then most of this stuff will be common knowledge, but for those new to the art of haggling this will give you a good grounding in a very vital skill. Like reading a chapter out of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, this article prepares you with an appropriate battle plan, because you’re going to need it!
Even a basic knowledge will get you started on the initial negotiation. If you can’t haggle in the language they’ll pin you for a sucker straight away, no matter how decent you are at getting the job done. You’d be surprised how far knowing the numbers and some really basic conversation skills will go. Vendors are used to foreigners having zero language skills, so you’ll impress them into some great travel souvenir bargains. If you’re cruising around Latin America be sure to check out some of the best choices for a Spanish school in Guatemala.
If you come into a negotiation with a rough idea of what you should pay it will make it a lot easier to whittle them down. Visit a few places selling the same things and practice before making a purchase. Work out an average estimate and start with that. Know how much you should paying and then work on it from there.
Never disregard the power of the walk away. If you find yourself in a little stand-off with someone over a price, try telling them politely ‘no thanks’ and walk away. 90% of the time you’ll get them down lower. Even if they decide not to budge on the price, you can always give in and go back if you really want the item. Don’t let pride get in the way of a decent travel memory.
Always pre-settle transport costs before getting in a taxi, bus, etc. Once on the road you’re in their world and abide by their prices. Don’t be surprised if it costs more than you thought when you ask them at the end of a trip. A lot of the time if you ask how much it is, chances are you’ll pay more. Be confident with your price knowledge and tell them how much it should be. Maybe even start lower just to rattle them.
If you’re interested in buying a few items never tell them straight away. Haggle your first item down, and then start round two on the next item. Ask them for a discount if you buy 2 or 3 and I guarantee they give you one. If you and a friend are thinking about buying some items be sure to shop together and bundle as much into the deal as possible. Any smart vendor will start dropping prices for the next few items if you’re interested in purchasing a new wardrobe.
Try your luck on different things and see what works for you. You’d be very surprised just how negotiable prices are. Ask for discounts or to round prices off with a friendly smile. I’ve managed discounts at pharmacies, set menu restaurants and even clothing stores. It’s not about being cheap, it’s just ensuring you get the best price available so you can travel longer.
Before they’ve even met you they’ve opportunistically pumped up the prices. As soon as you show your face they’ll ‘drop‘ it for you out of good fortune. Their salesmanship charm can be a little cheesy at times, but they’re only trying to turn a buck. The price that is special is usually the start of the negotiation process, so don’t think you’ve already got them down too much. There’s still a little juice to squeeze.
If you go in guns blazing they’ll see you as a walking cash machine right off the bat. Don’t walk into a store with wallet in hand and an eager look that says ‘I want to spend shit loads of money‘. Leisurely cruise in, ponder over items, hum and ahh and examine things you might not be interested in. If you act casual they’ll try harder to put the sale you on and start the bargains before you even ask.
At the end of the day there’s a definite line between haggling, and becoming the rip off artist yourself. Some people will drop their prices lower than they should because they’re desperate, and you shouldn’t take advantage of that. Haggling is a bit of fun, and in some cultures is part of the purchasing process. Next time you aim to pay record low prices, remember that a 50 cent savings for you won’t go as far as an extra 50c for them, especially in developing countries. You’re already traveling in their country for a fraction of the price, don’t be a tight ass on everything.
While I love surfing, sometimes I’ve got to know my limits. And as 12ft walls come surging towards coast I decided it was one of those times. Instead I popped the board away for an afternoon and took up a spot on the rocks to snap some pics of an epic swell that rolled through La Punta, Mexico.
When it’s not charging like a madman, La Punta is a pretty awesome spot to catch a wave. Just down the beach is the Mexican pipeline of Zicatela beach (which when pumping should only be for the experienced surfer), but chances are you’ll still grab a nice left at La Punta point if you can beat the locals.
La Punta is located on the Pacific coast in the state of Oaxaca. If you’re budget backpacking like us, then you’ll bus it from either Mexico City or the south in Chiapas. Either way it’s a decent bus trip of 8-10 hours. But don’t let that put you off. Surfing La Punta Mexico is one spot not to miss!
Once you’ve made it to La Punta you’ll be glad you made the trip. This funky little beach town has all the makings of a summer surf retreat. Quiet beaches, beautiful sunsets, friendly locals and just enough expat/traveler life to keep you from getting bored. There’s only a couple of main streets, but each has enough bars, restaurants and hostels to keep this sleepy beach town interesting.
And if you do get bored and want to spread your wings, the vibrant coastal town of Puerto Escondido is a short moto ride away, or an even nicer half hour beach walk away.
Cartagena, a city rich in historical past and cultural beauties. It had been over 2 years since I last visited, but immediately I was brought back after seeing the hustle and bustle of downtown, the beautifully restored colonial building and the picturesque wall surrounding the old city that tells so many tales of pirating and pillaging.
My first time backpacking Cartagena was back in early 2010. I crossed from Panama City in a tiny propeller driven plane in the middle of the night. You can also cross by boat from Panama, or there are a lot of ways to travel to Cartagena from within Colombia. At the time I, like many travelers, had slightly bought into the hype of Colombia’s dangerous reputation. I’d heard about the sketchy past and was definitely hesitant at the beginning, but all that quickly dissolved when I was met by some warm Colombian hospitality.
On my first day I met a very friendly, and fidgety, guy on the street who introduced himself as Super Mario. He described himself in third person with a boastful tone. From the way he puffed out his chest and had an ever alert eye I could tell he had an air of confidence that matched his street experience. After a brief conversation the topic quickly turned to his local resourcefulness. He assured me there was nothing outside his reach, and I didn’t doubt him for a second. He proved pretty useful when he pointed out a cheap hostel and nice place to eat, but I gratefully declined his recommendation for a local whore house.
While this specific brand of Colombian hospitality is something I would encounter many more times throughout my travels, it is in by no means a reflection of Colombia as a whole. The people are extremely welcoming to change and are working hard to reestablish a positive reputation. Colombia is a country progressively moving away from it’s past and into the future.
And speaking of history, why not a little on Cartagena. Back in colonial times Cartagena was, for the Spanish conquistadors, the most accessible sea port established in South America. They relied heavily on the port for capturing and colonising the continent and also as a vital storage point for all the treasures they were acquiring before shipping them across the Atlantic. The protection of Cartagena was paramount for the Spanish in order to safeguard the masses of gold and jewels they had pillaged from ancient indigenous cultures throughout the continent. From huge Incan civilisations to smaller tribal groups, the Spanish were laying their claim to this literal goldmine for exportation.
For this reason the Spanish constructed a massive stone fortress wall that spans across the sea front to protect the inner city from opportunistic pirates. These days la muralla, the wall, is undoubtedly one of the cities main drawing attractions as visitors come from near and far to take a walk through history. You can walk on top of the wall, spanning several meters wide, and take a cruise around the water front. Fresh sea breeze blows over the wall and you get a taste of salt in the air. The uneven stones beneath your feet add not only to your precaution, but also to the wall’s architectural authenticity. Small weeds grow between the cracks before machete wielding men come to maintain the wall in pristine condition. It’s a perfect panoramic view of the old town that waits below the secure stone.
The wall isn’t the only historical link to the city. I didn’t need to go far to witness some of the other cultural insights of past to present. In the north of Colombia the Caribbean influence is strong. Mix that with the assimilation of African workers during the colonization times and it creates a rich diversity of multiculturalism. With these cultural infusions I got to experience an amazing array of new sights, sounds and smells.
For my first couple of days I ventured into the streets and got lost in the twisting and turning cobblestone alleys that make up Old Town. Days would be spent exploring interesting museums, architecture and cafes to pass the time. The sound of African drum beats echoed through the city walls as barefooted dancers performed for onlooking crowds. At night I would find hidden plazas amidst the maze of streets and sit among the crowds to watch people go about their business. Live music saturated the dim lit streets as old men gathered to play chess and chat about the latest football results. Local kids started a lively football match in the middle of the plaza, dodging and weaving the smaller niños eager to join in. The smell of marinated meat wafted through the plaza as street vendors barbecued from the nearest corner.
Whether it’s fine dining at expensive Spanish influenced restaurants, or a quick hotdog on the corner, there is always something delicious to find when backpacking Cartagena on a budget. Before my recent switch to vegetarianism my go to snacks were anticuchos, marinated beef heart skewers, that you could taste from a mile away. Those days might be over, but its still a flavor that is deeply rooted in my taste buds. Even thinking about it now takes me back to those sultry nights, drinking a beer in the plaza, chatting the night away with people from all walks of life and munching on a bit of beef.
Lucha libre in Mexico isn’t just a sport, it’s a full on family outing of action and excitement. Wrestling is one of Mexico’s favourite past time activities, and everywhere you go you’ll find references to it’s popularity. The levels of production range from elaborately lit up stadiums in Mexico City, to dingy community halls in tiny towns. Either way, when an event is announced, people flock to the arena to see their favourite wrestlers battle it out. Today’s special event was in honor of el dia del niño, the day of the child, so it was very fitting to get into the action.
In the lead up to the entrance you see fathers wearing faded vintage wrestler t-shirts, walking hand in hand with their sons to the stadium, just like their fathers would have done in years past. Kids wear tattered hand me down masks that show signs of passionate wrestling matches. And for people new to lucha libre in Mexico, you don’t need to go far to start your very own collection of memorabilia.
Before walking through the gates I find vendors hawking rip off masks, poorly printed t-shirts and small plastic figurines. An array of brightly coloured masks laid out on the ground twinkle beneath the afternoon sun. Sparkling sequences of pink and turquoise catch my eye from a mask in the corner; this is supposed to be a display of masculinity right? After much deliberation I fork out the cash for a mask in order to fit the part. I go the old favourite and opt for an el Santo mask, a timeless classic of silver and white, that is beloved throughout Mexico.
Inside the show people provide to-your-seat delivery service on everything from chilly nuts to 1.2L cups of beer. The smell of pop-corn wafts past and before I know it I’m chowing down on a fresh batch. They really aim to cater for the experience. The only time you need to leave your seat is to use the bathroom between matches, and judging by some of the half full cups you see at the end of the night, some people don’t even do that.
In typical Latin America fashion the show is running half an hour later than advertised. After getting impatient I wander off to investigate. I hop over the VIP section without problems and make a bee line for the wrestlers prep-tent. No one stops me along the way and before i know it I’m backstage and watching middle aged men in their underwear apply baby oil and stretch into tights. It’s a relaxed feeling in the tent and I don’t want to disrupt their preparation, so I say g’day and take a couple of pictures with them before heading out.
After another half hour the crowds impatience grows even further and some kids decide to enter the ring for a bit of pre-match entertainment. Slowly more kids join in and within 10mins it a royal rumble arena with tiny arms and legs flying every which way. Never one to shy away from a bit of childly fun, I slip on my famous el Santo wrestling mask, secure the back and once again pop over the VIP fence. It’s time for some action!
I jump into the dirty ring and enter with a sudden burst of flare, but unfortunately with none of the associated fanfare. The kids look up from their wrestling matches to anticipate my next move. Before i get the chance to react a sneaky niño slide tackles me from behind, buckles my legs and sends me to my knees. Ohh it’s on now!
I grab the closest kid, who’s totally caught off guard, and lift him onto my shoulder. I spin him round a few times before dumping him carefully onto the ground. Out of the corner of my ear i spy a kid ascending the corner buckles and making his way onto the top rope. Next thing i know he launches himself off the ropes and onto my back. Wish ease I flip him round a few times before dropping him on his friends.
More kids get involved as their confidence grows. A tiny kid, no older than 4 and wearing a loose fitting mask, comes up and begins to chop me in the stomach. I fall to the ground and do my best wrestlers acting to show my pain. I flip around on the ground holding my stomach to his delight. All around me kids are lining up to take me on next.
After 15mins of non-stop wretling I’m spent. I can feel sweat building up in the mask, but the polyester restricts any form of air flow. I want to rip off the mask and let my face breath, but that would ruin my masked identity. As it is, I barely manage to keep my identity safe as the scrawny fingers clutch to my face and try to unmask me. Suddenly some music starts in the background and it appears the show is going to start. Kids leave the ring to get ready for the show as I soak in the local applause for my valiant efforts.
I return to my seat with high fives all round and settle in for the show. Over the next 2 hours we bare witness to some of the most ridiculously foolish wrestling/acting I’ve ever seen. It made Peruvian soaps look like the latest Dicaprio performance in comparison. First there was the extremely flamboyant wrestler who’s secret weapon was kissing his opponents into submission. For a strict Catholic society, they were loving the gay wrestling. Besale besale, shouts the crowd, showing their desire for another kiss.
Then there was a guy dressed like the gimp from Pulp Fiction, although try to imagine a pirate twist as he was sporting an eye patch. We enjoyed making up nicknames for all the wrestlers based on their costumes. Other honourable mentions are; The Predator, for his sex-predatorish trench coat; and The Bee, for his uninventive costume of a yellow Quiksilver t-shirt with black marker for stripes.
As the show came to a close we were left thinking that the worse it got, the better it got. It was hilarious. Half backyard wrestling and half improv comedy. More importantly than the cheers and claps were the ear to ear smiles on every one of the kids faces as they cheered on their favorites and booed the bad guys. And on a day like el dia del niño it only seemed fitting.
If you want to see lucha libre events in Mexico City, be sure to check out regular shows on Friday nights for a couple of dollars!
You’ve all heard the horror stories in the past about taking an overnight bus in Latin America. Whether it be in Murderous Mexico, Cut-Throat Colombia or Gruesome Guatemala. Back home your country’s travel advice warns against even visiting these countries, let alone get on a bus in the middle of the night. Stories of kidnappings, robberies and crashes play havoc on your mind.
But is there anything to really be scared of? Media beat up is prominent around the world, but nevertheless there are still some precautions to take. Taking over night buses on a budget not only saves you on a nights accommodation, but it also means you get to see more during the day. Plus they can be a lot of fun. Where else would you get to watch poorly dubbed and ridiculously inappropriate movies shown to young children, like Crank 2 or Machete?
After countless overnight buses in the last few years I can tell you it doesn’t get less worrisome. But it’s not about being paranoid, it’s just about being prepared. While I can’t guarantee you won’t be robbed, take note of these tips to best prepare yourself for the ride.
Travel safe amigos!
My hammock rocks and sways as we make our way down the Amazon River in Peru. It’s been a few restless nights to say the least. The top deck becomes freezing, as the evening breeze creeps in through the holes of the protective canvas. Now I see why the locals don’t go for the open air view at the top.
The hammock is too small, and I’ve already put a rip in it. I should have known better when I purchased it for $7, somethings just aren’t worth the bargain. I’ve done a quick repair job, but now I fear it’ll snap at any moment in the middle of the night. I suggest forking out a couple of extra bucks if you’re going to be using it more often, especially in South America. A decent double sized hammock
We’re waiting for dinner when some young kid comes up up to chat. I don’t mind, but he’s fascinated by my blonde leg hair and keeps trying to stroke my legs. He’s a nice kid, but after seeing all the preventative sex predator posters I get the feeling this kid is working undercover. ‘Wooh wooh wooh’, I shout loud enough for people around me to hear, as I detach his inquisitive hand from my ankle. I have to shoo him away politely before I’m caught on some secret camera and extorted by the authorities.
The bell rings for dinner and everybody rushes down to form the line for gruel. Christine doesn’t join me after she had a little run in with the kitchen staff. I’ve got no problems though, I can even get extras. For some reason all the kitchen staff are cross-dressers and I seem to have caught their eye. I feel slightly exploited as I bat my eyelids and make small talk for an extra piece of bread, but hey, free is free.
Up at the deck we pick through our meal and determine what is edible. We try to eat as much as possible because it’s a long time between meals. It’s now dark and there isn’t much to do but read. After a few hours we try to nestle in for a sleep, but you don’t really sleep on this boat, more like a long disrupted nap.
At the back of the boat a drunk game of cards continues late into the night, making it even harder to drift off, but eventually even they get bored. The night is a mixture of weird dreams, midnight stops with lots of shouting and gathering of items and then eventually the morning breakfast bell rings at 5:30am.
Now here’s the good part, and no it’s definitely not the breakfast soup. We’re up early because there isn’t anything else to do, but as a result we get to watch as the sun rises over the Amazon River. The morning sun busts out of the darkness to warm the frigid air. The bright rays dance on ripples of the water and brighten the murky morning. Lush trees of the jungle around us light up and the calls of the waking animals echo across the water. We climb up on top of the roof to let the sun defrost us and take in a new day.
A new day, a new adventure! Even though the nights are tough, it shouldn’t be any deterrent for the days that follow. Get yourself on board the boat, string up a hammock and leave the rest to the unknown. And while you’re there say g’day to Roberto for me, or is it Roberta?
The first time I went to the Islas Ballestas Peru I was decently hungover after a massive night on the Pisco. At $2 a litre, and rumoured to make you go blind, it certainly gets the job done. I had planned the trip with a bunch of friends, and not wanting to disappoint, I reluctantly dragged my still drunk ass out of bed at 7am. As a result I spent most of the time with my head over the edge of the boat waiting to bring up breakfast.
Determined to give it another go, a few years later I found myself in Pisco again and able to go round two with the islands. Ballestas might not have anything on the famous Galapagos islands, but for the price, duration and ease of access there’s no wonder they’ve been nicknamed The Poor Man’s Galapagos. All up the trip to the islands cost about $15 and takes 2 hours. What I discovered this time was a set of islands much more enjoyable when you’re not slouching in your seat with your head between your knees.
We boarded the boats at Paracas Pier early in the morning, and while they didn’t make a stop on the islands, at least this time I got close enough to enjoy the marine wildlife. First stop on the trip was a visit to the island shores, where thousands of sea lions lazily lounge about. Maybe it was mating season, or maybe they’re just massive players, but the papa sea lions seemed to be pimping out at least 4-5 lioness at a time. You get to hear the grunting and barking of orders as they kick it like kings on their rocky thrones. We also saw seals, Humboldt penguins and I swear I got a glimpse of a whale.
After bearing witness to the voyeuristic sea lions we made our way round to check out the local colonies of birds that call this place home. On the way there I literally had to duck and weave like a boxer to avoid the white droplets raining from the sky, as what felt like a million birds flew above me. The birds, who nest in the rocky crevasses of the islands, are also responsible for covering the islands with a snow like layer of bird poop called guano. They produce so much or this stuff that it’s harvested yearly like crops and sold off as boutique fertiliser. I’m talking hundreds of tons of the stuff a year. It’s certainly puts a new spin on the phrase ain’t worth shit!
After the birds we headed back to shore with a trip past an ancient inscription which has been carved into a mountain side that shoulders the Paracas bay. It’s shaped like a giant trident, and has some old historical links to the ancient Paracas culture. It’s just a preview if you’re headed down to Nazca check out the lines, but cool all the same.
With feet on dry land again I can definitely say that Isla de Ballestas is worth the time and money if something like the Galapagos isn’t on your itinerary or in your budget. My only word of advice, save the Pisco for after the boat trip!
It’s 2pm and we’ve hit the end of the road in northern Peru. Actually it’s the end of the river, and by this stage it has taken us 4 idle days of slow boats to arrive in the middle of nowhere; a town called Santa Rosa. A grass trodden path leads us to a thin wooden plank bridge that we must cross before getting into town. The wood bends and bows under the weight of our heavy backpacks and we’re cautious of falling into the murky waters. After 10 shaky minutes we step off intact and still dry. In the midst of our celebration we turn back to witness an older lady, who appears to be pushing 80, cross carrying a basket of clothes on her head with ease. We tell ourselves she’s obviously had a lot more practice and shrug off the spectators giggles from afar.
We’re on the Peruvian side of the Amazon River and are looking for the immigration office to stamp out, not an easy task. There are barely any signs to show it’s location and we manage to walk past it a number of times before finally discovering it. From the outside it simply looks like a residential house, with pealing paint on the weatherboard from a blistering sun. There is an instant presence of lethargy in the building and from behind the desk a man raises one eye from a magazine, clearly bothered by us interrupting his “work”.
This tri-border is home to all the dark and dangerous things that you associate with the depths of the Amazon jungle. Sex trafficking, the trade of endangered species, black markets and all the other mysterious activities that come with a city on the edge of the unknown. If you’re on the run or looking for those less conventional market items, you’re come to the right place. It’s no wonder this has a reputation as one of the dodgiest places in South America.
In the morning we leave Peru and take a rickety old boat across the narrow river and enter Colombia territory for the first time at Leticia. Across the main highway we can walk into Brazil at Tabatinga. 3 different currencies circulate the area, making conversions a nightmare. We have 24 hours to officially check in, but nobody seems too rushed in the suffocating heat of a city surrounded by dense jungle.
At the airport we see faded posters warning travellers of the penalties for partaking in any of the illegal activities that make this region infamous. Somehow I feel these warnings aren’t very usefully positioned. It’s hard to imagine a man trying to check a baby tiger into his hand luggage and then being surprised once he spots these preventative posters. However, as a man at the airport tells us, stupider people have been caught.
After a few days we were ready to get a move on. The opportunistic temptations of the dark jungle don’t entice us to stick around and we’re over the heat. We’d already completed a jungle trip, so there really isn’t too much to see except the inner workings of a multicultural city that trades in much more than an assortment of currencies . We board our flight to the north of Colombia and farewell The Amazon from the clouds.
