Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.......

2014 Playa Makaja Shred-Fest

I'm in Lima hydrating like a bastard and trying to recuperate from the 16-hour Peruvian coastal bus marathon I just disembarked from. Now, I'm no stranger to long-haul bus rides, my longest still being a 27-hour hell-fest from Arica, Northern Chile, to Valparaiso, in which 30 minutes into the ride I went to the out-of-order bathroom and accidentally flushed shit water all over myself.  The main things I've basically found are A) Never look at the clock, ever.  B) Don't drink alcohol either before or during (go nuts afterward) the journey and C) Limit fluid intake, limit food intake, and try to basically be as inert as possible.  You want to be in a coma-like state throughout the majority of the ride, and any kind of digestion your body has to do will detract from that.  Plus sitting there thinking about how bad you have to pee really sucks.

But this is not an article on how to succeed on long bus journeys (that comes later).  This an article to exalt the wonders of stepping off a bus after 16 hours, the wonders of going surfing in a strange city and not knowing where you're going to sleep that night.  The wonders of papas guacaninas and leading a healthy life that involves great deals of water consumption and laying off the beer, cigarettes, and chocolate cookies.

But article is also over.  Time to shred!!!!!

--Wetzler

Relájate

In less than one hour, I'll be in the water. In the Pacific ocean, paddling. What the hell happened. I'll tell you want happened: I quit my job in Bogota. Quitting jobs might be the best decision anyone can make. Quit your job! Drop out of school! Find yourself. But try not to become a huge hippy asshole in the process. Try not to accidentally grow dreads and start using pichuli oil. Try not to start using the word "mellow". Less than one hour and I'll be in the water. One of the longest lefts in the world. Lobitos! Aaaaaaaaaaa......

Home Sweet Northern Peru

I am now in a town called Tumbes in Northern Peru.  Last night I went out by myself and drank a half a liter of beer and ate chicken and french fries smothered in ketchup and mayonnaise and generally reveled in not being on a bus and being able to walk around and sleep in a bed. Thirty six hours is a long time to be in buses.  But I'm in Peru now and everything is great.  It's hot (see: omg) and today I'm going to the beach!  I'm going to a place called Lobitos which supposedly has "long, mechanical peelers" and where hopefully I'll be able to rent a board and wetsuit for relatively cheap and have a sunset surf tonight.

The money situation is not wonderful.  I have about 225 USD.  Which means I've spent about 100 bucks so far.  In a couple days.  But I've come far, so I'm trying not to despair.  At this rate I could easily make it to Chile, though I could also just as easily find myself living out of a dumpster in Lima.  The good thing is I can always get a job teaching English.  If you're remotely qualified and are in South America English teaching jobs are more or less a dime a dozen.  They also pay about a dime per hour.  

Looking back on my life in Bogota, it feels a little bit like I've left home.  I feel like I'm on vacation, but in a few weeks I'll be back in Bogota teaching English to executives who care much more about texting their girlfriends than about adverbs of frecuency.  South America almost feels like home.  I feel like I'm in an exotic place (Northern Peru is a vast wasteland of desert and Cusqueña beer) but at the same time I feel like I'm taking a road trip through Eastern Washington or down to California.  In other words, I feel like I'm just on a short trip.  On  a little jaunt.  And not several thousand miles away from all that I love and cherish*.  

Today the plan is to go to Mancora, and then Talara, and then a little town called Lobitos where there is a hostel and supposedly the perfect waves I mentioned before.  Part of me wants to start another marathon trip, to go hard for another day and make it to Lima, or go hard for another two days and make it to Arequipa.  Or go hard for another week, light my hair on fire, and make it to Ushuaia.  But I need the ocean, and that is where I'm going.   Because as the honorable Arthur C. Clarke said, "How inappropriate to call this planet Earth when it is quite clearly Ocean." 

Too true Arthur, too true.  

*It occurs to me that this is one of the worst paragraphs I have ever written.  So I will try to make up for it by leaving you with some quotes from Kevin, a kid sitting next to me on the bus yesterday from Guayaquil to Machala.  

(to no one in particualar) "It must be hot over there." -- Kevin looking at the setting sun

"You know about the dollar?" -- Kevin asking me if I was familiar with American currency

"People speak Spanish in Bogota?"  -- Kevin on the linguistic tendencies of the Colombian capital

Two Images That Hopefully Sum Up the Trip So Far

A Year of Wandering

A year ago to this day I was kneeling in the garden of a woman named Amy on Bainbridge Island who was paying me $15/hr to weed her garden.  I think it took something like 18 hours total to weed.  I had just gotten back from Chile, was underemployed, and trying to feel productive and be a contributing member of society.  Now, a year later, I am in Bogota, Colombia, and about to start wandering all over again.  Except this time it's for real.  I don't know exactly what's different about it, but something is.  Tomorrow I will board a plane for Cali, a city in Southern Colombia, and from there I will commence a series of bus journeys and hitchhiking which hopefully -- hopefully -- will take me all the way to Southern Chile.

I have $300.  

Now, someone quite famous once said that not all who wander are lost, and I believe this is true.  I feel most at ease when I am wandering, most like I have a purpose.  So to commemorate the wanderings that commence tomorrow I would like to take you on brief tour of some photos taken from wanderings in the past year or so.  They were all taken on my cell phone so quality is slightly low.  Hopefully the pictures from the new wanderings will be better.  But anyway....

Carelmapu, Chile.  

"Beach not suitable for bathing."

Rest stop near Osorno, Chile

The night shift at Hostal Benavente.  

The other night shift worker.  

Some guy named Kristoff and some girl whose name I don't remember, walking to the beautiful, deserted beach which you will see.....

...here.  Carelmapu.  Paradise.  

My old wetsuit.

First day (first minutes, actually) of work at Da Alessandro.  Puerto Varas, Chile. 

Pablo.

Coco-mat where are you now?

Magda. 

On the way to Cole Cole.  

Trevor's most prized possessions.  

Dougs.

Camp Doug.

Camp sunsest. La Push, WA.

Supermarket. China.  

Petronas Towers.  

Fay.  Elm Lodge Hostel, Dunedin, NZ.  Fay!!!

Sea Lion.  Stewart Island, NZ.

Doug.

American School Way.

Stay tuned for more!

--Wetzler

Wait, Wha....?

Coming soon..... (in about four hours)  Where's Wetzler like you've never seen it before (aka exactly like you've seen it before).  NEW PHOTOS!  NEW POSTS!  NEW RADNESS!  And.....A new template!

Where's Wetzler will be relaunched today for about the sixth time in wake of my upcoming "We poor" trip through Ecuador, Peru, and hopefully Chile.  Stay extremely tuned.

--Wetzler