My backpacking years Archives

Live and love

Published: August 8, 2021 / Updated: August 16, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

Raise your hand if you are a little bit in love with Bruno Mars. I know, so am I! Great talent and a killer smile.

Not long after the start of our trip I heard his newest single at that time – Gorilla. I kept listening to that over and over again. Just like in the past months I had been listening to Usher’s Tell Me. I wonder why we do that – keep listening to the song over and over again till we eventually get tired of it and move on to the next one? Bruno Mars had accompanied me on my trip almost from the start, and we were in a good place, I was not even close to getting tired of his music.

You can imagine then how I felt, when Bruno Mars agreed to host me and my Peruvian in his house in Brazil. ‘For real?’ – you ask. Ok, he wasn’t the REAL Bruno Mars, but tell me they didn’t look like two pees in a pod!

Falling in love with this guy was unavoidable. I think I melted as soon as I stepped into the house and saw our host. He was extremely sweet, made damn good savory crepes and mean margaritas. Plus, he sang and played the guitar just like the star.

While I showered I dreamt of him walking in on me. While passing his kitten from my arms into his I dreamt of being the kitten. I dreamt of kissing the guy.

I did feel bad afterwards as I believe my feelings and my thoughts were clearly written on my forehead. After we had left, my Peruvian asked me if I had been flirting with Bruno. ‘Not that I care’, – he added. I told him no, as I was doing so much more than flirting.

That was the only time when I got head over heels over a guy I’d met during my 3.5 year long trip. I guess by then I was sure there could be nothing more between me and my Peruvian than the friendship and companionship while the trip lasted.

Moreover, the trip could have ended at any moment. Just like life in general can end in the blink of an eye and without a warning.

Today, my memory of Paraguay is a blur. I don’t remember the names, I don’t remember the places, I don’t remember the faces. But I know I almost died there.

Late at night we arrived to a town where we had a couch surfing host waiting for us. The ride over was uneventful, but I do remember munching on chipa while relaxing next to the truck driver. Food in Paraguay was not impressive, but the chipa I liked!

We were walking along the road in the rain, trying to reach the house of our new host. That was all I remembered until I woke up in the hospital 3 days later with the bandage on my head, not being able to stand on my own two feet, and tubes poking out of more places than I care to remember. I did have random flashes of me being taken to the x-ray room or seeing the face of our host (I later found out that was him) by my hospital bed.

I got hit by a bus. I spent 2 weeks in a private hospital and a week later at a hotel, all expenses paid. We didn’t have travel insurance (I believe very few, if any, backpackers do) and we didn’t have home in Paraguay to go back to and rest. We had been on the move for years and suddenly I couldn’t move. It took a lot of effort for my Peruvian to fight for me, and with the help of a couple of influential friends I received a pretty good care.

Just remembering chipa made me nauseous for the longest time as it was the last I had eaten. Slowly, my head wound started to heal (today the big scar is hidden by my hair) and my swollen legs started to recover.

However, being able to walk unsupported was not the same as carrying a 15 kg backpack on my back and a 6 kg backpack on my front. Even after 3 weeks of rest I was not ready for that. But the insurance was no longer covering our stay and, honestly, we wanted to get the hell out of the country. So we started moving again, my Peruvian dragging 2 fully loaded backpacks while I just about managed the small ones. I don’t know how he did it. But he did. He saved me.

The lows

Published: August 2, 2021 / Updated: August 2, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

The story of us crossing the Darien Gap simple deserves to be told.

Our boat had no motor, so we spent 7 days on the water, when the trip usually takes 3-5days. However, the crew was tight and we had lots of fun.

We were about to reach the San Blas islands, Panama. We had taken boxes of mangoes from Colombia with us and had been munching on them along the way. After a few days, however, the mangoes started to rot and it was impossible to escape the bad smell on the tiny boat. Remember, there were eleven of us and a dog. Before stepping on the boat, we had been eating the fruit for 3 days straight: mangoes for breakfast, mangoes for lunch and mangoes for dinner (the result of us running out of cash and not finding ATM machines in the small town of Capurgana, Colombia).

Mangoes gave me a rash and I couldn’t even look at the big beautiful fruit for 2 years after this trip, but trust me, the worst was yet to come.

I was going strong. Despite the never ending mangoes, despite the rash they gave me and despite the motion sickness that I had felt since the first night I spent on the boat. As I child, I suffered from that a lot (my mom would always have an extra bag with her whenever we went on a bus or stepped into a car). I couldn’t sleep inside the boat, that made me even more nauseous. I preferred to sleep outside breathing in the salty air, feeling the fresh wind, and looking at amazing night sky before closing my eyes. But then along came tuna.

Our captain, bless him, was as gorgeous as he liked to drink. He did take care of us: gave us food (the mangoes!) and water (sat inside plastic containers for days and looked questionable for sure). The captain did try, I have to say. One day he pulled out two beautiful tuna fish and made us all a huge bowl of ceviche right there and right then. It was awesome.

The second tuna was left on the side of the boat for a couple of days. We cooked it on the fire as we reached the first San Blas island. Yummy! We were finally on the ground after a few days at sea and we managed to put together a proper meal. The tuna with potatoes was just what we needed.

Back then I wasn’t keen on potatoes. Please, I had eaten them in every shape and form know to the human kind. In my country you eat potatoes for breakfast, lunch and dinner (so a bit like you do mangoes before you go on a sailing boat from Colombia to Panama) and for a snack in between. So it was just fish for me at that time in San Blas…

I was lying on the sand after a delicious meal, feet in the water, smiling to myself, when my Peruvian pointed out I had a big rash on my belly. I suddenly started to feel my cheeks burning and had to run to the bathroom (not an easy task when there were no real bathrooms on the small island). Then I needed to run again and again. Lord help me. My Peruvian reported that a few others were not feeling well either. The only girl who didn’t get food poisoning was the one who didn’t eat fish. She only had the potatoes. The first one to get sick was the one who skipped them.

Now let me remind you that we are talking about the same tiny boat with eleven of us and a dog. We had to get moving and could not stay on the island any longer. I don’t think you need much imagination to see us sharing the tiny claustrophobic bathroom amongst us. It was a disaster. It needed a lot of cleaning after.

And who cleaned after me? My Peruvian did.

My Peruvian was a hard core travel companion, and he didn’t think twice for the sake of everyone’s wellbeing. And for that am I grateful. We had each other, even at the worst of times.

The highs

Published: July 11, 2021 / Updated: July 19, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

Not having blond hair and blue eyes, as is typical in my country, helped me blend in with locals in pretty much all the countries we visited. Even my name is quite popular in Latin America.

My Peruvian, even more so, could have easily been mistaken for an Argentinian or Mexican. And that helped us a lot, especially trying to get the local prices. In some places, however, being overcharged was unavoidable. I remember in Haiti I was asked to pay 24 times more (I calculated!) for a pineapple in the market. Sure, I definitely didn’t look like a local there, but luckily I had some local friends with me who talked the old man into giving me the fair price.

This is how I wanted to start writing this time. And only at that point it dawned on me that I did have blue eyes!!!

So scratch that! Let me start over.

I bet my Peruvian didn’t expect to carry two fully loaded backpacks at some point during this trip. And he didn’t think he’d have to clean the terrible looking bathroom after me (I’m so so sorry!) Or maybe he did. That’s what an adventure and being on the road is all about, right?

So before we jump to the bad, let’s start with the good. I can’t count how many amazing things I experienced during this trip, but I will mention a few highlights:

Hiking up and down the canyon. The trek took us 4 days in total as we wanted to visit the ruins off the beaten track. Every mosquito bite was worth seeing the Choquequirao in Peru, but ,damn it, the trek was so hard (and it was my first time, too) I cried. The flip flops I was wearing didn’t help, nor did my Converse.

Freediving in Utila, Honduras. It felt good to learn something new. It felt even better to stop for a while and sleep in the same bed for a couple of weeks.

Teaching English in a small town of San Pedro by Lago Peten Itza in Guatemala. I enjoyed it so much that it inspired me to get my TEFL certificate later on, which eventually brought me back to Latin America a few years later. Plus, I made good friends with a really lovely girl from Australia.

Camping in Atacama Desert, Chile. Everything about that place was magnificent.

Reaching the top of the world in Parque Nacional Huascaran, Peru. Freezing cold. Freaking beautiful.

Being one of the two temporary inhabitants on one of the islands in San Blas, Panama

Having a $1 lobster in Cuba. The first time at the restaurant we paid $10 USD. The second time in the less fancy restaurant it cost us $5 USD. Then finally we got freshly caught lobster for $1 USD. Delicious.

Fighting dinosaurs in Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia. Who would have thought, eh?

Trying out the famous sopa de caracol. We liked the soup and the restaurant so much, that we went out of our way to come back there the second time.

Thanks to all the wonderful places I got to see, now I’ve got my list of the three most beautiful beaches in the world:

Port Salut, Haiti

2. Playa Bahia de las Aguilas, Dominican Republic

3. Beach strip in Zona Hotelera in Cancun, Mexico

Where there is good, there’s bad, and where there are highs, there are lows. The trip didn’t lack the latter, which only made it more memorable – looking back, not at that precise moment! It’s hard to see the beauty of the place when you are lying on the bottom of the boat and praying for it to stop moving as the contents of your stomach move just at much…

The road

Published: July 5, 2021 / Updated: July 5, 2021 Vilma My backpacking years

‘The furthest distance in life is between what it is and what you thought it would be’

– The Only Living Boy in New York.

I couldn’t agree more, especially when it comes to relationships.

I don’t fly across the world just for anybody. I do that when there’s a connection, when we have chemistry, when I believe we’ll get along better than fine and when I see myself in a long white dress saying ‘I do’ and actually liking my new last name.

Some guys are very straightforward, painstakingly so, and they shatter my dreams in a blink of an eye. ‘If you think I’ll marry you one day or have family with you, you are wrong’ – announced one boyfriend after a few months of being in a relationship with me. ‘You will never be enough for me’ – blurted out the other one after a couple of months of being together. Ouch! Talk about being honest…

So you can see now that taking that flight to Lima, Peru, was the natural step my universe. Did I think the guy was gorgeous? Yes. Was I head over heels in love with him already? Yes!

I told you once this will not be a travel blog. And right now I wish it was. Because I have so much to say, so much to share and so much to be grateful for. For once, I never imagined that I’d be backpacking through 15 plus countries in Latin America. What a mind blowing experience that was!.. I never expected to see so much kindness in this world, to meet so many beautiful souls. The trip made me rich in a way no money ever could. And for that I will forever be grateful to my Peruvian (I would have not done this without him), his family and every single person that I met on the way).

What happened during the 3.5 years is a treasure. Of course, not all of it was roses. Far from it. The beginning was tough. We were very different, we came from different cultures. Things got better along the way as we got to know each other better, but we had many misunderstandings turning into fights. Had we been living in our own places and dating, it would have been a very different story. Spending 3.5 years with another person, when the furthest he gets from you is the other side of the tent, is no joke. Even when we were fighting we couldn’t run away and hide. ‘At least we have each other’ became both our blessing and our curse.

Hitchhiking was no walk in the park either. Those days when nobody stopped (and I mean nobody) was a torture.

But the smile on my face rarely faded.

The drivers that did pick us up were not all sweet as honey. One tried to put his hand on my knee, the other tried to kiss me. I said: ‘No, dude, get off me’, and still took the ride, but let the Peruvian sit next to the driver.

Besides the few above mentioned episodes, we were lucky to encounter a great deal of amazing people, probably as eager for a company on the long road as we were eager for a ride on that same long road.

And riding like this