Carolyn Barr

Last year we visited the middle east for a period, these are my sentiments on a portion of the trip.

For the past week we had been traipsing around the southern half of Jordan. Snorkeling in the Dead Sea, climbing up the red stones of Petra, and quenching our thirst with sweet Bedouin tea. It all sounds like a great, exotic time, but the Middle East is an exhausting country. It’s hot, as a female I had to be conscious of my outfits, and everything is dusty, sandy, and hot. While we’re very happy to have visited, we were pretty ready to leave.

Our last night was spent in a traditional tent in Wadi Rum. I have never seen more stars than I did that night and I’d say it was a highlight of the trip. We climbed into our Bedouin host’s SUV in the morning and we were on our way down the open highways to the Wadi Araba crossing. On the way we were pulled over and our driver ran into some issues with his registration. He argued for a good long while with the police, and finally got out of the car and paid the fine.

About 30 minutes later we arrived at the Wadia Araba border and paid our tab for our desert stay. We were a few dinar short, which was ok with our host. But that meant we had zero dinar left – which seemed perfect at the time since we had no intention of returning to Jordan in the near future.

We picked up our packs and hoofed it to the first step of the multi-step process to cross the sad, dusty Wadi Araba border. We could see Israel in the distance. Beautiful, air conditioned Israel.

And midway through the process we discovered that we owed 10 JD per person to leave the country. Cash only. No problem, we thought, surely there’s an ATM. Surely.

Clearly we’d learned nothing from our week in Jordan. We started looking around for an ATM. We asked a few guards. Nothing.

We started coming up with crazy ideas, like buying a doodad from the duty free shop (which took credit cards, which is a relevant point in a moment) and then returning it for cash. No dice. We started reasoning with two of the guards. We asked them why they don’t take credit cards at an international border crossing and they said because there’s no internet out there. Except the duty free shop took credit cards. I made the mistake of talking to them at all – they clearly were not going to listen to no woman. Eventually Caleb told me that it’s probably better if I just stay quiet.

The reason we were so insistent on finding a solution at the border was because the closest town, Aqaba, was an overpriced, unpleasant 10 minute taxi ride both ways. That doesn’t sound bad, but wait until my post about the Jordanian taxi mafia and you’ll understand.

We finally resigned ourselves to the taxi option, the only way to get to town. But first we were going to execute a last ditch effort and dig through our bags for money. Any kind of money. Euros, shekels, something at all. And lo, behold, a 20 Euro note emerged from a tiny pocket in my carry-on. I flashbacked to me taking this note from Caleb before I ventured out in Vienna for a walk. Goodness I am glad I didn’t spend that on coffee and sachertorte. Hallelujah!

We proudly took our 20 Euros to the currency exchange man, which obviously we also visited earlier in our roundabout search for an ATM. He understood our plight, and gave us a few extra dinar for our Euros as 20 Euros is about 15 JD and we needed 20 JD.

We were soon slugging our way over the 100 meters of No Man’s Land between these two sandy nations. It is an unpaved, barren bit of land, because Middle Eastern countries naturally need some buffer space. We easily went through our return process to Israel, working our way through the series of clean, air-conditioned buildings. Caleb’s passport proved to be interesting to them, as it always does – but soon enough we were waiting for a taxi on the other side to get to our hotel for in Eilat.

That was my hot, sweaty lesson to always research exit taxes before leaving a country. Usually I do, but I slipped up this time. Never again!

I’m telling you, I looked. There are no dragons. Except that red dragon icon they put on everything, but don’t let that fool you. The only fire breathing going on there is from old men eating mushy peas at 9am in the pub.

So no dragons, sorry to disappoint. But there are rolling green pastures, sheep, and castles, which is really what I was there for anyway. Particularly the latter.

Let me back up. Caleb and I had left London on a Sunday evening on a train out of Paddington Station. It took maybe three hours to get from there to Bridgend, our final destination. You have never heard of Bridgend, nor will you ever again after this post. It’s just a small town in South Wales. There’s nothing there. Oh sure, a couple castles and a river live there, but that’s like all of Wales.

Anyway, we arrived in Bridgend and made our way to the hotel that Caleb’s work was putting him up in. Pretty much the only hotel in town, above a pub. Naturally.

To set the scene, I’ll start with the main core of the town. Everything is old, as Europe does, and of course lots of stone. Cobblestones, stone houses, you get it. A few fine examples are in the slideshow below.

The one week that I spent there Caleb went to work every morning and I would see him at lunch time and again in the evening. I spent my days either in the hotel room, at a cafe, or wandering around.

The hotel room was, how shall we say it, bland. It was fine enough. They gave Caleb a “family room” so it was bigger than the other rooms. But the place was definitely old. Single-paned windows, dingy carpet, and uninspired decor. However, they did provide a tea tray. Because any upstanding member of the U.K. provides tea trays, as far as I know. Pictures related to the hotel below, though of course I never took a picture of the room or the building. Really not much to see. At any rate, the place did the job. We could even get wifi from the pub.

Random comment about Wales: they love Welsh. Sorry, it appears that they do. I never found anyone who could understand Welsh, but every sign was translated into Welsh (and Welsh was often listed first). The announcements on trains were also in Welsh. It seems that someone somewhere is trying very hard not to let the language die.

The cafe that I went to every single day was about halfway between the hotel and Caleb’s office, really just a few blocks. It was called Bauhaus and it was run by a very kind Jamaican man who gave me a free bagel when I discovered that I didn’t have enough £. One of the best meals I had in all of Wales (well, Bridgend) was goat curry and an iced coffee at that cafe. It was just perfect.

After I spent the first half of the week on work, since I had a big project I needed to finish, I spent Thursday exploring the area. Which I will have to cover another day, but I promise there will be castles and sheep.

In April and May, the husband ditched me for Wales. He was on a work trip for a couple of weeks, which was much too long for us to be apart, so I decided to visit him.

Via my miles collecting ways, I had around 50k American Airlines miles, and the dates I was looking at going to visit him fell right before the off-season cut off. You see, during the off season you can fly to Europe roundtrip for 40k AA miles. That’s a ridiculous deal. I found an easy flight from Seattle to NYC, then from there to London Heathrow. My Heathrow flight was a red eye, naturally, but it was on an empty plane – one of AA’s newer remodeled ones. So I got a whole row (my choice of whole rows really) to myself to stretch out and nap. 40k miles! So cheap.

After I landed (at 6am no less), I took a 1.5 hour tube ride (the tube is so darn easy to navigate, about 10x better than the NYC subway) from the airport to my hotel waaaaaaaay across the city. But the hotel was free via my points-gathering ways. Mwahahahaha. And a free hotel in London is worth a lot, let me tell you. That is one spendy city.

Of course my room wasn’t ready when I got to the hotel at 9am, so I dropped my bags at the front desk and then spun myself around to head off to Westminster in my red-eyed daze. I hadn’t really done much planning for this trip. I mean, I bought my flight less than two weeks prior. So Westminster was about the only place on the map I could think of to go to in my bleary state.

Coming out of the tube at Westminster you’re greeted by Big Ben. It’s just right there. 

After recovering from the overwhelming British-ness of it all (including taxis, red telephone boxes and double decker buses), I meandered across the street to Westminster Abbey.

It’s so grand. 

Now, I don’t remember much else of this day. I know I saw those two things since I have pictures, but that’s about all I know. Oh, and I passed out when I got back to the hotel. I was absolutely exhausted.

BUT WAIT. THAT’S NOT ALL.

I just remembered (rather, found the photos) that I didn’t go back to the hotel yet. Oh no. I went to the Tower of London. Of course I did. I think it was only noon at this point and I couldn’t check in until 2.

So I paid the rather expensive entry/tour ticket ($30) and wandered right into a tour group hosted by a Yeoman Warder (A.K.A. “Beefeaters”, no one knows why…). I thoroughly enjoyed the tour as the Beefeaters are quite amusing. I’m not much of a tour girl, but this one is worth doing. I learned so very much about the Tower. It’s been kept in very good condition and apparently the Beefeaters and their families live inside the fortress. How. Cool. After the tour I wandered about and saw the crown jewels, of course. So shiny.

The next day I went to the Edelman London office for work, which was fairly close to Westminster. I believe I got off at the stop after it. The London office is quite large, and they have a bar in the office which is pretty cool. I spent the day frantically working on a project that I really wanted to finish and then afterwards I met up with Caleb back at the hotel. He trained (it’s a verb now) from Wales that evening for the weekend.

That weekend we went back to Westminster and a few other neighborhoods so Caleb could do the touristy things too.

We also visited this most wonderful wine bar that Saturday afternoon, the oldest wine bar in London. It was called Gordon’s Wine Bar and it was basically in a cave in the middle of the city. You can see pictures here. It was dark, very dark and rather dank. Also crowded. Apparently it’s always crowded and it’s near impossible to get a seat inside during peak times but somehow our fancy selves snagged a table and some wine. It was magical.

Sunday afternoon we left Paddington Station to go to Wales, but that’s a story for another day.

The best hotel in El Salvador is La Joya del Golfo. You’ll never find it. You could never happen up on it. And that’s what makes it absolutely blissful.

Last January we spent three quiet days lounging in hammocks, glued to our kindles and feasting on spiny lobster and watermelon frescas. Even during the holidays the place was quiet. It was like we had the whole place to ourselves most of the time; there are only four rooms.

The location was a little three story house with a wide deck area, owned by an El Salvadoran and American expat with their older children. The house is on a sizeable, remote island off of the southern coast of El Salvador, about two hours from the airport if I remember correctly. You can see Nicaragua and Honduras from the island, it’s that far south. The island is circled in red below.

We got there via panga boat from La Union. La Union is no destination at all and is a bit…smelly. Imagine the scent of sewer, salt water and rotting fish. Add in some diesel for good measure. Despite the smell, as you pull out of the harbor and weave your way through the islands, the air transforms from into a fresh breeze and signs of life become fewer and fewer.

After 40 minutes on an exhilarating and bumpy boat ride, you arrive to this exact view.

Photo Source

The palm frond covered deck is where we spent 90% of our waking hours. The afternoon siestas in our air conditioned room interrupted our leisurely time spent swinging in the locally crocheted hammocks. The cool air from the water tempered the 90 degree heat, making the weather quite bearable. Not moving a muscle for days also helped. I love vacation.

We did so little that it made our hosts uncomfortable. We just wanted to lounge in the swinging hammocks and devour the countless books on our Kindles. Followed by a fresh catch lunch and a pina colada. Rinse and repeat.

In the distance to the left you can see a little uninhabited island, called Bird Island. Swaths of birds live there, mostly pelicans and a few types I can’t identify. On one part of the island, when you look up, the sky is so covered in circling birds in dims the bright white sun.

We spent about an hour one day kayaking around the island with the sit-on-top kayaks they provided. Once you get to the other side of the island, you don’t see any signs of life except for a boat or two off in the distance. As we reclined in our kayaks, we saw a strange marine animal poke its head up and break the surface. It’s head was a strange shape, quite round and large. We came to the conclusion that it was either a very large turtle or a dolphin.

Those little buoys in the background are an oyster farm.

Back at our little house on stilts we wined and dined on seafood every day. Caleb always selected the lobster, prepared a different way each day. They were massive with spiny shells, and only $15 each! They were markedly different than Maine lobster, in taste and look. Here’s one decimated by Caleb.

On one glorious, sunny afternoon the family’s older son made us sushi out of a local fish caught that day. I wouldn’t say that the fish was particularly best suited for sushi, but we were impressed that he knew how to make it and serve it on this remote island. Besides seafood they  kept us well supplied with cheap pina coladas. Because what is vacation without pina coladas?

If you have the itch to visit El Salvador, I can’t recommend this hotel enough. Amazing, friendly and down-to-earth service. Nicely appointed rooms with TV, AC and comfortable beds make the indoor stay pleasant. Great food and even greater prices across the board. Not to mention the hammocks, the kayaks, and boat rides to secluded sandy beaches. I left my sandals on one of those beaches if anyone finds them. They were great sandals. I’m sure they were swallowed by the Pacific by now.

Everyone should go there. We spent our time there relaxing for several days, but you can even take a boat out there and have dinner, then boat back to fragrant La Union. I don’t recommend doing it that way as I think you need at least three nights at La Joya to completely wind down. Now go, feast on lobster and while away your days in handmade white hammocks and enjoy the fresh sea breeze. With a pina colada in hand. Obviously.

Gordo, the resident bulldog, and his coconut.

As you know, we have a plethora of fauna in our front yard. There’s Potter the otter (and Sons, his baby otters), Scooter the sea lion, Scampers the harbor seal, and the newest member of the cast – Gertrude the elephant seal!

She’s big, she’s clumsy, and she huffs and puffs back and forth in the water. She’s a real character, and the largest pinniped we’ve ever seen in the wild (I may or may not like to pretend that it’s a walrus). I don’t have any photos of her, but here’s one I found on the interwebs of a female elephant seal.

Photo by kevincole

Isn’t she pretty? The boys are the ones with the big, ugly elephanty noses.

The other day while Caleb and I were watching some boats go by, none other but Gertrude popped up and started huffing and puffing on by. Then naught but a moment later we saw Scampers poke his little head up! He just hung out, staring at us. The pinnipeds seem to like to come out when the water is especially choppy.

I learned through the grapevine that there have been quite a few transient orca whale sightings around the island, but Caleb and I haven’t seen anything. Though my tally of seeing whales from the water taxi is now up to two! And I haven’t even been riding the boat for a year.

Not to brag or anything, but the Puget Sound is awesome.

For Christmas this year Caleb and I decided we needed to get some sun, seeing as how the sun cruelly abandoned us to the clouds, rain and darkness for the winter. Thanks Mr. Sun, thanks.

So right before Christmas we fled south to Panama.

Christmas day we spent at someone’s house we found through AirBnB.com, which is my most favorite site when looking for places to stay. Usually much cheaper than a hotel, and nicer too.

The house we stayed at belonged to an expat couple from California. They actually bought the land and had the house built there overlooking a big valley. It was in the mountains of Panama, which means that it’s not too hot there, it hovers around the 70s most of the year. What I really loved about this house is that the terrace was very much a part of the house. Almost all of the terrace-facing doors were always open 24/7.

Onwards we went from there to Playa Venao. This was the only part of the trip where we took a bus, and that’s only because the bus system in Panama is probably the best in all of Central America. However, it all went awry in the trashy town of Penonome. Eeeeeeevil Penonome (read pen-oh-no-may).

We had to take two buses for this trip. One from the mountains to Penonome and then from there to the beach. Well, the first bus driver told us to wait at the wrong spot for the Playa Venao bus. So we waited for three hours. Three I say. On the side of a horribly hot, dusty highway with not bathroom and little water. Staring at the crest of a hill about a half mile away, watching for the coming of the bus we needed. Of which three drove by and didn’t stop. WOE.

So eventually we did end up at the right place and got on the right bus. We also arrived at our destination about 5-6 hours later than I had hoped. Oh well.

Fun fact: The buses pretty much in every Central and South American country play loud mariachi music and the like. For hours. Thank goodness for headphones.

Anyway, we made it to the beach after dark. We checked in to our $30/night room and headed to the restaurant and got some fried fish and ahi tuna steak.

Our room was worth exactly $30/night I think. It was just a double bed with a rough sheet and a fan in a claustrophobic room. The lock was a chain through the door with a padlock. Cute.

But this place was totally worth it, mosquitoes and all. We ate amazing seafood every day, lazed in hammocks by the beach for hours and Caleb took a couple of surfing lessons.

This was also a place where we basically didn’t sleep hardly at all. The howler monkeys started yelling, “THAT THE SUN WAS UP! THERE IT IS! EVERYONE GET UP NOW!” at about 5 or 6am every day. And of course it took awhile to fall asleep because we didn’t have air conditioning here, so it was humid and hot.

One morning we just got up right when we heard the monkeys start rustling about and went and found them. It was a nice little hike and Caleb got to see monkeys in the wild.

Another fun fact: we could drink the water there. Yep, in the middle-of-nowhere Panama. In fact, we could drink the water almost everywhere in Panama. Apparently this has something to do with the Americans putting in the water system in lot of places. Though this place on the beach had clean water because they had their own well and filtering system.

So that was Panama! It was hot and lovely, and we’d recommend it to anyone. We probably won’t go out of our way to go back, but it’s still a beautiful country. Though the people were rather rude in my opinion, but that’s besides the point.

Next time I’ll talk about a few of the pictures from El Salvador below…

Lately I’ve been planning a trip to Panama, and have been asked several times, “Why Panama?”

Well I’ll tell you why. Panama is much more than a canal, it is a tropical, jungley country full of two-toed sloths, vibrant birds and toasty warm waters good for snorkeling or surfing, depending on the beach.

The real kicker is that Panama is often overlooked as a vacation spot, it’s really quite similar to any other tropical country along the Ring of Fire. Jungle + Volcanoes + Pretty Water = Vacation, right? It’s just like Hawaii, just cheaper and less English.

Anywhoo, hubs and I won’t have long in Panama before we plan to move on to El Salvador. Island hopping, as it were. Or isn’t. Whatever.

We’ll be using our time wisely: efficiently and cheaply. I did have grand plans to somehow make it to Bocas del Toro, arguably one of the most beautiful parts of the country, attributed to its clear blue waters. But it’s expensive both in time and money to get there, as well as one of the most popular tourist destinations. I may be a gringo, but I plan on avoiding tourists.

So I hunted down other (clear) waters, found off the coast of Las Tablas, a 4 hour bus ride (and $10-$15) from Panama City. The actual Pacific coast of Panama is generally not-clear, but near Pedasi in Las Tablas – just a 30 minute boat ride – will bring you to Isla Iguana.

Photo by Vladimer Shioshvili

Am I right or am I right? That’s worth a trip. This is the site of future snorkeling and gallivanting with the native iguanas, the island’s namesake.

Since we can’t spend all of our limited time in paradise (well we could…but I like variety), we’ll also be visiting El Valle – a little town in a dormant crater in inner Panama. It’s jungley and lush.

Photo by Nathan 2009

Photo by fveronesi1

Did I mention the birds? Apparently there’s great bird watching in Panama. I sound old. But look at the pretty bird!

So that’s why one wants to visit Panama. You can drive from the Pacific to Atlantic Oceans in 1.5 hours, snorkel in pretty turquoise waters and hike through the jungle. Es bueno!

I’ve hardly even mentioned the canal, which I am looking forward to seeing. Have I told you that in college I wrote a very loooooong opinion/research paper arguing that the Panama Canal should be expanded to fit the new and larger ships of today (which by the way, it did end up getting expanded…or rather…it’s in the process of being expanded). Anyway, I called it. Let it be recorded.

As of yesterday, the new privatization of liquor law in Washington went into effect. Cue crazy long lines and empty liquor shelves at every 10,000+ sq. ft. grocery store carrying liquor as Washington gets its drink on sans-government control.

Personally, I don’t really drink liquor. It’s place in my kitchen is in travel-sized bottles meant for baking. Alright, peppermint schnapps in the winter for my hot chocolate too. But that’s it.

Even though I’m not exactly the prize purchaser of vodka (…have I ever bought  vodka?), I still voted for the freedom of liquor. I don’t exactly care for the state to be in charge of the distribution of any product. Most people I know voted yes on the initiative, but now many of them are showing their ignorance by complaining about the increase in cost of of their favorite booze.

Guys. Get a grip. How did you not know this when you voted? Besides that, I would much rather pay the tax on a product than have to go to a state-controlled venue. Think of it as a convenience tax, which it basically is.

Maryland is also hung up on some liquor laws, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to fix it anytime soon. In Maryland you can’t buy any alcohol except from a designated private (non-government) liquor store. Ridiculous. Alcohol there is also much more expensive. Cheap wine in Washington is roughly $5. In Maryland it was twice that for the exact same bottle. How on earth does not carrying wine in a grocery store help the consumer? Or even the state? Their liquor stores were also disgusting, all of them. Always really cramped. I think I only saw one specialty store that wasn’t so bad.

Anyway, that’s my rant of the day. Time to go back outside and enjoy that sunshine!

Oh hey guys, I’m Walrus.

I’m the glorified stuffed animal that lives here. I have the best life. Free food, free lodging, plush blankets on which to nap upon and a waterfront view to gaze at.

Sometimes I even see otter families!

Alright, not the best picture ever of Potter & Sons. But I’m telling you, that’s a family of otters.

I see really big boats too.

Yeah, I live the life. Let’s go outside and watch the sunset…

So beautiful! Even as a cat, I can appreciate beauty.

Really, I watch the sunset nearly every day. Sometimes I sleep through it though, post-dinner nap.

Alright, that’s all from me today, I’ll relinquish control to Carolyn again. Time to go nap…

I really like making pizza. I like experimenting with different, unconventional toppings, like raspberry jam and date nugget pieces. Pizza is just one of those versatile foods that loves some creative experimenting.

The other day, during a rare May sunny week on the island, I made the best pizza yet. I’d give you the recipe, but there are no measurements for anything. I will, however, tell you all of the toppings I used.

First off, the crust. It was none other than a ball of the Pioneer Woman’s perfect pizza dough that I pulled out of the freezer the night before. This is the best pizza dough, especially aged. I made a double batch (netting me 4 balls of dough) a couple of weeks prior and stuck them in the freezer.

Secondly, the toppings. Oh the toppings. I must credit Caleb, he’s the one that was inspired to use some date nugget pieces I had. Genius, this man.

These are the ingredients, in the order I layered them on the pizza:

• Mozzarella (lots and lots of it)
• Lightly fried minced garlic (lots and lots of that too)
• Chopped, pre-cooked bacon
• Date nuggets (next time I’ll add more, this time it was just a sprinkle)
• Goat cheese
• Basil from my front porch
• A light sprinkling of onion salt and oregano

500 degrees for 10-12 minutes.

Perfection.

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Kudos to Caleb for taking such lovely photos of the pizza, he takes the best photos.