The Quest for Clean Clothes...

Guayaquil, Ecuador

February 8, 2007
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We left the beautiful, relaxing beach at Montanita on Wednesday and headed back on the bus to the hustle and bustle of Guayaquil, Ecuador’s largest city.

First, I want to take a few paragraphs to give the beach at Montanita some justice. The beach in front of the place we stayed stretches to the South for at least 10km, all of which you can walk during low tide. The water isn’t the turquoise blue you see in postcard pictures, but it is a green-blue color. The beach is pretty clean thanks to an education program and the locals seem to take a lot of pride in keeping the white sands clean.

We swam/body surfed in the lukewarm, almost too warm, water during the day, mostly during low tide. When the tide started to come in, the water belonged to the surfers, who headed into the water in mass, and we promptly exited the water—you are only asking to get hurt if you stay in the water with the surfers. After we got out of the water we would play a little Frisbee to dry-off, and then head to the patio where we would watch the surfers, drink 750ml Brahma (a local beer) for a $1.50 each, and wait for the most beautiful sunsets we have ever seen to date. We repeated this “exhausting” exercise for five straight days…

Our time at the beach accomplished its goal—time to decompress after many months of getting ready for our trip—we were so relaxed, we didn’t want to leave. However, we realized it was only our first week of the trip and we have many more great things (and beaches) to see along the way.

We headed back to Guayaquil with enough time to accomplish one thing—do laundry. We had a couple of other small things we needed to do in the city such as drop some stuff in the mail and buy a new USB memory stick since Marc “decided” to go swimming with the last one, but our main goal was to wash the stinky, sandy clothes from the beach.

Our Lonely Planet guide (last updated in 2003) said most places specialize in dry cleaning, not laundry, except for one. The one was very close to our hotel—perfect! We wrote the address down and scoped the whole thing out after our arrival on Wednesday evening. We found the location, but it was closed, and a revolving metal door was pulled down in front of the business blocking access. The address didn’t have any signage on the outside, so we figured we would just come back the following morning.

We set out on our laundry quest on Thursday morning, with bags of stinky clothes in hand. The nondescript building we found the night before is now a small office space with about 20 computers and a guard armed with what appeared to be an automatic Uzi, wearing a bullet-proof vest, standing in front. (Don’t panic, most businesses have an armed guard protecting them from the city hoodlums). We decided it would probably be best not to ask the guard about what happened to the lavanderia and returned to our hotel, bags of soiled clothes in hand. We figured we would find another lavanderia while completing some of our other tasks for the day. We did check with the concierge in the hotel to see if they could help us with our bags of reeking clothes. The concierge pointed us to the ridiculously expensive hotel service ($2.50 per t-shirt) and advised us that there isn’t anyone in the area that does just laundry. There has to be someplace, we said to each other.

We walked around the city for at least two hours sightseeing, looking at USB sticks, mailing things, and we never found a single laundry facility. Defeated, we returned to our hotel, where it was nice and cool, and stayed out of the city for rest of the day.

Not too much else to say about Guayaquil… Of course we know there will be other nondescript cities like Guayaquil (hopefully with laundry facilities). We just hope we get the sense in advance to get in and out as quickly as possible.

Next stop… Chile.

First Culinary Delight

Montanita

February 5, 2007

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For several days now we have been approached on the beach by Ecuadorian vendors on bike carts selling cebiche oestra, or oyster ceviche. Well, they aren’t really bikes, but more of a three wheeled cart, the front of the cart is used as a traveling oyster bar and the back of the cart is used to maneuver the bike along the beach. We were a little hesitant to give the “fresh” ceviche a try since the vendors peddle up-and-down the steaming, hot beach all day and there’s literally no ice or refrigeration on the carts. Plus, we weren’t really sure where their product came from; we figured some type of Ecuadorian oyster farm. Is there such a thing?

This morning, during a long walk on the beach we decided to explore the tide pools located on The Point to the right of our place, and that is where we saw the ceviche guys stocking up for the day. They were actually pulling the oysters right out of the water as we approached. I decided this was as fresh as it was going to get—we had to try it!

Marc isn’t a big fan of oysters, so the guy offered us the especial mixto—fish, shrimp, and oysters. I walked away briefly and apparently the friendly vendor proudly pulled a sinewy 24 inch octopus out of a five gallon bucket of saltwater and asked Marc if he would like it included in the mixto… Marc politely declined; no gracias.

To start the dish, he shucks the oysters by placing a rock on the ground and gives them a few good whacks with a metal mallet. After opening the two oysters and removing them from their shells he cuts them up into chunks and tosses them into a bowl about 7 inches in diameter. He adds the shrimp and dorado (a white fish) that has been soaking in lime juice from a couple grimy looking Tupperware bowls. Then, he squeezed the first lime into the bowl, and added all of the ingredients from his cart including cilantro, red onions, jalapenos, salt, diced tomatoes and a couple quick shots of oil. He adds a second lime before asking us if we want some Tapatio like hot-sauce for a little extra heat. Of course we do! He gave us one squirt, and we encouraged him to keep going. Then he asked us if we want roasted corn nuts—sure, give us the works!

We sat down on the closest rock in the tide-pool and shared the $3 bowl of delight as the guy stayed close and waited for his bowl and spoon to be returned. The blend of flavors was perfect, titillating all of the senses—sour, sweet, spicy and salty. We alternated bites, passing the spoon back and forth. Marc stuck with the fish and shrimp (he did try a couple pieces of oyster since they were hard to miss). After the majority of the seafood was gone, we still took turns slurping up the lime juice with all of its wonderful flavors. With the bowl empty, immediately craving more, we handed “our” bowl and spoon back to our ceviche chef. While he washed the bowl and spoon in what appeared to be a soapy solution on his cart we told him we might see him again tomorrow for another especial mixto! He suggested again that we try the octopus—we will see.

I look forward to more culinary experiences like this one on the trip. Unfortunately, this is the only one worth talking about to date.

Super Bowl Sunday at the Point...

Montanita, Ecuador

Super Bowl Sunday
February 4th, 2007
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After our move to The Point yesterday, we immediately scouted out a place to watch the Super Bowl. The place we found is actually connected to our new hostel, Casa del Sol, and has breathtaking views of the beach from the bar, where you can actually walk right into the ocean (see pic).

The owner of the bar is a burly guy from Philadelphia named Mike. He owns the bar with his Ecuadorian wife who is at least 15 years his junior. Mike is probably 6’ tall, weighing in at close to 225, which might have been muscle at some point in his life, back in the football playing days. Mike and his wife permanently relocated from Philadelphia to Ecuador in November after the loss of his father. At least this is what we gathered from our conversations with Mike.

We started the pre-game festivities by watching “Invincible” with Mike. He was really pumped up since the story is about a guy, played by Marky Mark, who tried out for the Philadelphia Eagles in an open tryout and made the team. Mike made it clear he is a die hard Philly fan since that is the way he was born. He didn’t really care who won the Super Bowl, as long as it was a good game.

We quickly slipped from the movie to the pre-game show which was all in Spanish. We had a few minutes of hysteria until the game came on and we determined it was in English. Others trickled into the bar, mostly Americans, but nobody really cared about the outcome. Everyone was just looking for something to do until it was time to surf again.

We had the standard football pool where everyone picked their squares. We weren’t big winners there, but we did enjoy watching the game. We have only been gone one week, but it was nice to have something familiar on a Sunday night. There is nothing more familiar than good old fashioned football, hot dogs, beer and potato chips.

Surfs Up and All is Groovy...

February 3rd, 2007

Montanita, Ecuador
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After two nights in the party environment within the village of Montanita, we decided to head to the North End of town, also known as The Point, in search of sleep. The music boomed well into the wee hours of the morning, causing us to stay up late and wake up late. Each morning we woke up and there were new tents, almost as if they had been breeding, just to the left of our place in an open area of sand. As we walked by the tents, towards the beach, the smell of strong weed permeated from the tents. I am positive we would have found at least a half a dozen sleeping bodies on the beach at 8a, if we were up that early. We gravitated towards our room each night a little after 11p where I wrote and Marc read. Two nights of this was enough.

We made the one mile trek, fully loaded with our packs, along the beach at low tide to The Point, a place that was supposedly discovered by a California surfer 25 years ago, and found a new place to stay, La Casa del Sol. The place costs more than our last place; however, how much are you willing to pay for sleep, air conditioning and an overall better environment?

The two places, the village and The Point, are as different as oil and water, one chaotic and crazy with signs that say, “drogas prohibidad” the other calm and peaceful with people here just to surf and enjoy the ocean. The people from The Point do go to party in the village, but when they are tired they can come back to the peaceful, calm Point for a nice evening of rest and relaxation. The main focus of the clientele is to catch the waves morning, noon, and night.

The Manager of the place we are staying, Greg, is an American from D.C. currently living part time in Ecuador and the other part of the time in Indonesia. Basically, he follows the surf, and when the surf is flat, as he calls it, he manages hotels and has other things to do such as varnish doors, fix the cleaning process, and build out a real kitchen with a chef that puts out the quality food his clientele is looking for. Greg appears to be in his mid-to-late 30s, about 6’1” and 165, with a shaved head, he is a lean, mean surfing machine. Greg’s passion for surfing, and the obsession expressed by others we met, makes us want to go out tomorrow morning and catch some waves. Who knows, maybe we will!

People are Strange

February 1st, 2007
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We finally got off of the bus in Montenita at about 5:45p from Guayaquil after the marathon bus ride. Marc tossed his nicely sealed emergency Ziploc bag of stomach bile to the side of the road in a pile of plastic bottles, bags and other garbage. It was extremely hot and he was simply over-heated. Our goal was to get off the bus and find a place to stay as quickly as possible and begin the recovery process with lots of water. The temperature is now about 103 and the humidity is at least 70%.

We got our packs on our back, I grabbed the rest of our stuff, and we walked across the street to the entrance of Montenita. I wasn’t able to take in everything on our first walk through town; I wanted to get Marc taken care of first. I figured we had a few days to explore. We were looking for a place called, La Casa Blanca, since the place we were hoping to stay was located behind La Casa Blanca. No, there were not any street addresses, but the directions in Lonely Planet claimed all places were off of the main street into the Village.

We got to the first cross street. A car was honking its horn behind us—I went right, Marc went left. I see the sign in the distance for La Casa Blanca on my side. When I turned back to look for Marc, I peered down the other side of the street. There was a banner that read, “People are Strange.” The banner didn’t have much significance at the time since we had more important things to worry about.

I screamed over the car horns and blaring Reggae music for Marc’s attention and we made our way to the place we wanted to stay; boasting immaculate rooms, terraces with hammocks for every room, and most importantly private baths. We were in luck; they had a room for us with a mood setting mosquito-net and everything. We dropped off our stuff and headed to get Marc some water and a little something to eat. It was at this time we were finally able to fully absorb the village.

The village is a cross between a Grateful Dead show, the summer in Pacific Beach, known as PB to the locals in San Diego, and a greatly scaled down French Quarter in New Orleans. So picture this, you have guys in dreadlocks with their standard Guatemalan print shorts, carrying their surfboards (this is an epic surf village), and they have their roadie (or beverage of choice) in their other hand. Most people are walking the street barefoot, or with flip flops. Street vendors are peddling jewelry, chicken on a stick, fruit smoothies, empanadas, grilled corn, your name written in Japanese, or whatever else they can sell to make a few bucks.

Every place along the main street is a bar, restaurant, and hostel all in one. There are only two side streets and the main street, which dead-ends into the beach. We are clearly some of the older people in this village; which was confirmed as soon as we received the flyer for the “Full Moon Beach Festival.” There is a big party every month to celebrate the full moon, which is on February 3rd, and we were lucky enough to arrive in time for this festival, which is an all night rave on the beach—right up our alley.

We sat at a table that is close to the main street, perfect for people watching. There were a lot of young adults who look like they just never went home. I’m sure this is a great place for parents to come find their missing children.

As we sat having dinner and watching the human traffic, a young, very tan, female performer in a tank top and skirt is doing backbends in the street, preparing for a show of what ended up being flaming baton twirling. Her friends stood beside her for support. When she was finished with her performance, she went table to table trying to collect money for the performance. At the same time, two stray dogs wandered into our restaurant and began humping and all attention was immediately diverted to the copulating canines… which were actually more entertaining than the street performer. Of course this will bring more orphaned dogs to the village in the coming months. At one point I turned to Marc and said, “This place is a total freak show, do we belong here?” Marc’s response was, “we live in San Francisco, baby, this is nothing.”

The younger crowd continued to do laps around the village—it only takes about five minutes. As the night grew on, the circling crowd got larger, as if they were all waiting for someone to tell them the cool place to go. It was almost as if they were playing musical chairs, but the pumping music (Reggae, Jack Johnson, Latino, Salsa, etc.) never stopped. We never saw a single bar completely packed. However, we did go to bed pretty early, 11p, after our long travel day. The music continued to thump late into the morning.

By the end of the evening, I understood the purpose of the banner “People are Strange,” and it was more than a tribute to Jim Morrison.

More to come in Montenita…

What a Pisser!

Montanita, Ecuador

February 1, 2007
S 01.49.546
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We woke up fairly early today, 8:45a, knowing it was a travel day. Travel days are always hard since things are out of our control. Our plan was to make it from Quito to Montanita, a little beach town approximately 200 km from Guayquil. To make this trip possible in a day, we opted for the 45 minute flight from Quito to Guayquil (instead of the eight hour bus ride), and planned to take buses the rest of the way to Monteñita. This is really the only way to get there with the exception of hiring a private taxi.

I was the first to wake up when the alarm went off at 8:45a, I slowly made my way to the shower, having slept very little. I was convinced the anti-malaria drugs we are taking were messing with my mind, and, therefore, my sleep. Each night before we went to bed we took one of the little pink pills in preparation for our trip to the beach. After my shower, I decided I wouldn’t take the pink pill at night anymore, but instead I would take the pill in the morning. So, after my shower, and before breakfast, I popped my daily anti-malaria pill and started packing my bag in preparation for the day. Ten minutes into packing, Marc now in the shower, I started sweating profusely. I sat down on the bed for a few minutes and finished my book, “Running with Scissors.” I sipped on some Gatorade, fruit punch flavor, hoping the sugar would make me feel better. No such luck, I ran into the bathroom and refunded all of the Gatorade I just drank.

Marc stepped out of the shower at about this time. He too took a little pink pill at my suggestion. I convinced him to eat a Clif Bar before he got sick too. I should mention he made the same suggestion to me, which I promptly ignored thinking Gatorade was my best option, thinking of the breakfast we would have at our little B&B.

We made it through breakfast, no puking from Marc, and headed to the airport. I was feeling much better, since the pink pill was probably completely exhumed at this point. We boarded our flight promptly at 1p and made it to the other end with luggage in hand by 2p.

Our day, and the fun, was just beginning when we landed in Guayquil. We left the airport terminal, got in a cab to the bus terminal 1.2 km away to catch a bus to Monteñita, snaked our way through the terminal to the ticket booth, and got to our bus with about 10 minutes to spare. We were very lucky to catch the next bus, or we would need to wait two more hours in the heat. The temperature when we landed in Guayquil was 28C, or close to 88F, and the humidity was upwards of 80%. We were drenched by the time we got on the bus, and I suggested to Marc we grab a few waters before our departure—thank goodness we did.

Bus rides in other countries are always an experience, similar to the Stockton 30, but different. Our bus had a drape between the driver and the rest of the bus. This was a good thing because it prevented me from seeing the seemingly suicidal movements the driver was making. The passengers had another distraction, a movie. The movie for the trip was called DOA, Dead or Alive. I had never heard of it before this trip. Marc only knew about it because Jamie Presley was featured in Playboy, and they had a great article on the movie. Marc summed up the article for me—the chicks in the movie are hot, but the movie itself sucks. I have to agree with Playboy on this one. Thank goodness they have those great articles.

The bus made a few stops along the road between Guayquil and Salinas, our transfer point to Monteñita, but the purpose of the stops was to let food vendors on board. They sold anything from ice cream to chicken and meat kabobs to deep fried surprises. The aroma from the food was wonderful, a lot better than the stinky, sweaty passengers, but we opted out due to that damn pink pill we took early in the morning. We still had at least 2 hours on the bus and we didn’t want to risk anything.

We finally got to the transfer point to Monteñitas. The only indication was the porter, or ticket taker, yelling at us in Spanish. Luckily, we figured it out, and got off the bus with four young ladies with the same destination. We waited at a corner, in some village in the middle of the dessert, after purchasing another ticket for the remainder of the way, and waited for a bus to show up.

The bus finally arrived 40 mins later, completely packed, and we picked two seats in the last row of the bus, the only two seats together. However, when we boarded, instead of there being food vendors, there was a traveling drama team already in mid-performance. We were probably on the bus for two minutes when a man in front of us started yelling and chastising the act. One of the “actors” told the guy to listen, but at the time we didn’t know he was part of the crew. In the end, the drama team passed out candy bars to the bus, and then came back and collected the $.50 from each person. We opted out of the charade by feigning to not understand what was going on... which was true.

After the performance was over, the entire crew departed the bus and I moved over one seat to give Marc a little more room. The windows on the back of the bus didn’t open and it is hotter than Hades. I had the day pack between my legs, resting on the floor, and Marc was balancing our packs on his knees.

It is at this point I felt a drop of liquid on my foot. Immediately suspicious, I looked at the guy in front of me through the reflection in the window. Remember, he was the same one having a fit over the drama performance. I see something spouting up between his legs, I shit you not! I immediately pull up the day pack and turn to Marc and say, “I think he's pissing.” Marc peeks over the seat and confirms my suspicion. I pull my legs completely up, Marc takes the day pack in his lap, and I tell the guy sitting next to Marc. The guy instantly goes to the front of the bus to report the findings to the porter. The porter comes to the back of the bus and confronts the pisser. The pisser tries to blame the incident on the delay due to the drama team and, specifically, the guy who told him to be quiet and listen; at least we think this is what happened. I could only understand every few words, making the complete translation difficult. The porter wasn't making much progress with the pisser and headed back to the front of the bus for reinforcement.

It was at this time the guy sitting (and sleeping) next to the pisser realized what happened, he repositioned himself on the armrest, bought some popcorn from a food vendor on board and got caught up on the entertainment.

The bus continues for a few more stops before the porter and his reinforcement come back to confront the pisser, who is now standing up in the aisle. I think he got tired of sitting in his own urine. Then another guy joins the reinforcements and they all have a discussion with the pisser, to no avail.

Then, the two larger guys get behind the pisser and begin pushing him to a waiting police officer at the front of the bus. After the pisser was escorted from the bus the porter came back with a spray bottle of 'something' and few paper towels and did a half-assed clean up of the mess.

The pisser was gone and we were back on our way. This whole incident with the pisser took about 20 mins and during that time the bus was stopped and it kept getting hotter and hotter. The air circulation in the back of the bus was poor, and Marc still had the day pack on his lap to avoid the piss on the floor of the bus. Our water was long gone and, in retrospect, we probably should have bought a few more, but we thought we were almost there.

Marc started getting very anxious like when he has motion sickness. The back of the bus is not the best place to be since you feel every single bump in the road. Marc placed the day pack in the aisle within in reach, and stood up to get a little air. It was a little too late. Marc sat back down and asked me for his emergency bag. We were 5K away from our destination at this point. Marc spent the last 5K dry heaving into a gallon Ziploc bag thankful he didn’t eat any of the deep fried surprises along the way.

When we arrived, Marc took his zipped up Ziploc with him; we got our bags, and made our way into the town of Monteñita. The entry into Monteñita will get its own story later. We found a cute little place to stay, right on the beach, put our stuff away just in time to see the sun starting to set out our window.

We dropped everything and ran closer to the water, about 100m. The beautiful reddish, orange globe was right in front of us prepared to dive into the water for the night. It was the most spectacular sunset either one of us have ever seen.

I guess the sunset made the rest of the miserable day worth it.

First few days...Quito, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

January 31, 2007

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W 078°.27.361

Today we took a trip 22 km outside of the city to see La Mitad de Mundo. The middle of the world is its own little city outside of Quito. There are several restaurants, parks, souvenir shops, with the highlight being in the middle of the “City.” There in the middle is a massive monument recognizing the spot on the equator when the latitude reaches 00.000.000. We headed directly towards the monument when we arrived.

Marc, with GPS in hand, was determined to verify the accuracy of the monument. The closest he got was 00.000.112 near the monument. He did find a spot with a reading of 00.000.049 closer to the fence of the city.

The highlight of the day, at least for me, was recording Marc standing on the big “O” for Oeste, or West, with the line dividing the two hemispheres below him. It was here that he let one rip, as he did in the Four Corners several years ago while traveling cross country with Mike T.; I know this because I have seen the tape highlights of that journey with Mike.

Tomorrow we will head to Guayquil, Quito and then over to the beach. The weather should be perfect—in the 80s almost all the time. We will relax on the beach for several days prior to returning to Guayquil. We hope to have internet access during that time, so keep looking for blog updates.

January 30, 2007
S 00°12.169
W 078°.29.830

We had a fantastic day exploring Quito. The town is broken up into three sections—Old Town, New Town and Mariscal Sucre. We hit all of them. As we walked from Mariscal Sucre through New Town, we got to the main park, Parque El Ejido, and continued through to Parque de Alameda.

We heard some noise in the distance, but decided to turn down a street and move away from the noise. Large crowds are not always the best places to be in foreign countries.

At the North corner of Parque de Alameda, there was a little monument that looked like a good lookout point. We climbed to the top, huffing and puffing a little since we are almost at 10,000 feet. We made it to the top and took a seat—we were the only people on top. This wasn’t a big monument; maybe 20 feet high with a weather vain on the top, but it was the perfect place for us to be at this point in time.

The same time we got to the top of the monument, we heard some yelling in the distance, and then we heard a few sirens. We looked out from the point we were sitting and saw some people running in the distance. A few seconds later the sirens drew closer, and we saw officers fully suited in riot gear. People were frantically spilling into Parque de Alameda, the look of fear in their eyes even though they are part of the protest.

Marc pulls out his camera to take a video of the protest and the people trying to escape the police in the riot gear. Next, the riot police unleashed the tear gas, as Marc captured the mayhem on his camera. The situation couldn’t have been too bad since the guy manning the hot dog cart was running with the protestors.

The tear gas cleared and we decided to depart from the top of the monument to complete our tour of Quito. We noticed a church from the top of the monument, Church of La Basillica, and decided to weave our way towards the historical monument. We did our best to avoid the protesters rest of the day, and it wasn’t too difficult since every where we went was heavily secured with police.

We ended the afternoon at the local British Pub having a few pints. Yes, this is kind of cheating since they speak English in the British pub, but it was day one—give us a little time.

I have to say our first day in Quito made us feel like home—those people in San Francisco protest everything too!

Bon Voyage

We are literally hours away from our big trip that has been 26 months in the making. We are currently camped out at the Hyatt Hotel near SFO (Priceline special!) and will board our plane at approximately 6:30 AM tomorrow morning, 1/29.

Everything up to this point has been well planned and completely under our control. Now, as we are about to board the plane, we are venturing into the unknown territory where things WILL be out of our control regardless of our meticulous planning. We are officially in the execution phase of the project, and it will take the team (Marc and I) to pull together to ensure as close to perfect execution as possible. I think we are ready for the challenge--I guess we better be at this point!

We know there will be challenges along the way--illness, missed flights, canceled flights, lost luggage, etc.--but each challenge will result in a story we can share with our friends and family along the way.

The emotions have been intense the past couple of weeks saying "see you soon" to all of our friends and family, some who made excuses to see us just one more time. After we went through the packing list one last time today, did some final touch-up cleaning, we placed our packs in Mike Swartz's rental car, and set out for the airport with red eyes (Thanks again Mike). We couldn't really describe how we were feeling--it wasn't sad, or scared--maybe it was good old fashioned anxiety.

We both know we are about to embark on something very special. We believe the anxiety that is running on high today will slowly dissipate when we land in Quito, Ecuador, and continue to diminish as we reach the coast of Ecuador for 7 days of complete relaxation on the beach.

We will miss everyone, including our City. We heard a new lady at Cafe Trieste yesterday say, "I moved hear from Cleveland, OH just a few weeks ago. I really like it because I feel like I am on the same wavelength as everyone else here. I was really tired of being perceived as a freak in Cleveland." Her new friend responded, "Well, it is San Francisco."

We don't think we will find a City we love as much as San Francisco, but that is part of our quest. That and a cup of coffee that can stand up to Cafe Trieste.

Please feel free to email us at mjheckman@yahoo.com or lssassafras@yahoo.com.

Two weeks... let the packing frenzy begin!

So... we're literally two weeks from departure. In two weeks from now we will be in Quito, Ecuador and our journey will be under way. But before we get ahead of ourselves we need to take care of all the last minute tasks. We knew the last 30 days would be extremely busy but I think we have actually done a good job at managing all the tasks (thanks to Laura, a.k.a Master Tasker). The past few days have been exhausting with saying good-bye to friends, the Kai Kln Reunion Tour, packing the house, and most importantly the organization and packing of our backpacks.

If you want a quick little snap-shot of what it has felt like you can watch Laura as she attempts to pack her backpack for a year's worth of adventure. The funky camera angle simply adds to what our lives have felt like for the past couple weeks.

Two weeks...

One Month Until Departure...

Well, we made it through the annual tour of the Central Valley of California for Christmas, and we are officially one month away from our flight date. Marc's last day of work is this Friday (12/29) and my last day is January 18th. I am taking the 2nd-10th off to pack up the house and get things ready.

The trip became very real over the holidays. There is a very good possibility we won't see some of our family again before we leave. There were a few tears as I said goodbye to everyone, including my nephew who will be 18 by the time we get back in 2008. There were two engagements during the holidays too--Marc's brother, Joel and my Maid of Honor, Jenn. The idea of possibly missing big events like these while we are gone also became very real this weekend. I guess we will find ways to deal with it. We are very happy for Joel & Lisa and Jenn & Kris. We hope they will meet us along the way to celebrate with us.

The calendar for January is packed with events for the trip. Packing and last minute shopping will consume a good majority of our days. We will also take advantage of the time to run, do yoga, and hangout at Trieste.

Check this site often for updates...especially after January 29th when we land in Quito, Ecuador.

Time to Go...

When we celebrated Thanksgiving last year we said, "when we get to Thanksgiving next year, we are pretty much there." Well, we did it. We spent the extended Thanksgiving weekend packing our drop boxes. The drop boxes include critical supplies we need during our trip. The boxes will be transported to my dad's house for shipment to Sydney and a few spots in Europe.

The trip is very real at this point. The majority of the people at our work know we are leaving, we spent a full weekend packing, and I forgot to mention, we also purchased the tickets for the second leg of the trip. Sometimes I have to ask myself if I am crazy for going on this trip, being away from family and friends for an entire year, but then I realize this is a once in a lifetime experience. Our friends and family will just have to visit us along the way.

This weekend, with the preparation of the drop boxes, really gave us a feel for how crazy January is going to be. We will have critical tasks to complete daily, preparing for the trip and preparing our condo for its new occupants. At least we are well organized and work well together under pressure.

The countdown to our departure date is 65 days, but only 36 more work days. I guess it really is...time to go!!

It's Halloween and we're 62 days away...

Back in January of this year we were in Guatemala I remember thinking... man, when we get to Halloween I know we will have made it! Guess what? Tomorrow is Halloween and it sure looks like we're gonna make it.

All systems are still Go! In fact, Laura has finally told her boss about her plans for 2007. She was so anxious about telling everyone at her work. I tried to explain to her that she shouldn't worry. I was sure her boss and coworkers would be excited for her; not angry or disappointed. Of course... I was right and her anxiety about telling everyone at work has been left behind.

Now the real anxiety... We're 62 days away from 2007 and traveling around the world for a year! Don't worry, we'll be ready to walk down the pier

Start - January 28, 2007: San Francisco, Quito, Guayaquil, Santiago, Valparaiso, Santiago, Puerto Mont, Punta Arenas, Puerto Natales, Torres Del Paine, Punta Arenas, Porvemir, Rio Grande, Ushuaia, Puerto Williams, Ushuaia, Rio Gallegos, Puerto San Julian, Puerto Madryn, Bahia Blanca, Necochea, Tandil, Mar del Playa, Buenos Aires, San Francisco, Auckland, Bay of Islands, Paihia, Rotorua/Lake Taupo, Te Urewera National Park, East Cape, Wellington, Picton, Marlborough Sounds, Nelson, Kahurangi National Park, Westport, Arthur's Pass National Park, Queenstown, Christchurch, Sydney, Hanoi, Halong Bay, Ninh Binh (Tam Coc), Hoa Lu, Hue, Da Nang, Hoi An, My Son, Nha Trang/Mui Ne Beach, Ho Chi Minh City, Vientiane, Luang Prabang, Vientiane, Savavvakhet, Pakse, Champasak, Si Phan Don, Pakse, Siem Reap, Phnom Penh, Bangkok, Mumbai, Delhi, Frankfurt, Cairo, Prague, Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, Zagreb, Rijeka, Trieste, Venice, Milan, Parma, Bologne, Florence, Rome, Naples, Messina, Palermo, Barcelona, Mallorca, Grenada, Seville, Madrid, San Sebastian, Bordeaux, Brussels, Amsterdam, Frankfurt, New York City, San Francisco Finish - January 23, 2008.

100 days...

Well we're at 100...

Incredible, it seems I remember first talking with Laura about what it would take to do something like this trip just a few months ago. I remember we first talked about going for 3 months and then we figured 6 months was minimum. Well, in less than 100 days we will be headed out the door for a year.

Not much has changed since my last post a few months ago. Laura is on her way home from San Diego at this moment after yet another week of traveling for work. Over the past 14 days we have actually been within arms reach of each other 6 days. Can you imagine... that crazy woman is going to be within arms reach of me for a full year. Oooh, I'm gonna drive her nuts!

Our air tix to South America are purchased. First stop... Quito, Ecuador and we just keep heading south along the Pacific coast until we run out of land. After we run out of land we plan on heading north up the Atlantic coastline until we get to Uruguay. Then we'll be headed back through San Francisco before we head off to New Zealand and the remaining 9 months of our trip...

100 days... just 100 days.

5 months...

So, last update was 7 months and counting… now we’re 5 months and 143 days away. It’s getting very real.

All systems are still a Go.

The good news is "time" doesn't stop and with every second we are a second closer. However, the tidal wave is coming... we have several tasks that need to be completed in the last 60-90 days before we leave and the thought of getting it all done is some what overwhelming.

Just think about it, you’re leaving your home, your family and your job for a full year (not necessarily in that order). What this means is: change car insurance, change home-owners insurance, get health care & travel insurance, vaccinations, cancel subscriptions, re-route mail, move all material assets out of your home, change all utilities, lease your home out for a year, refill prescriptions, gather all clothes and gear that you will carry for a year, finalize itinerary, purchase air tix, and oh yeah... quit your job and make sure all loose-ends are tied up so you don't burn any bridges when you take off for a year.

Pile on baby... and the rule of “thirds” is still constantly being violated (see definition, March 09, 2006). Laura and I seem to communicate via Instant Messaging and Text Messaging more than verbally (see exchange below). She travels for work 2 weeks per month and I work so much we probably see each other less now than ever before. The running joke is, “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Is this really what it's all about?

Session Start (mjheckman:Laura): Wed Aug 09 10:05:48 2006
[10:05] Laura: Hi
[10:05] mjheckman: hey
[10:06] Laura: how are you?
[10:13] mjheckman: fn busy
[10:13] Laura: sorry sweetie
[10:13] Laura: me too
[10:13] Laura: I didn't sleep
[10:13] Laura: and then only 30 minutes on the plane
[10:14] mjheckman: sorry
[10:15] Laura: I hate how we are both so busy and stressed out
[10:15] Laura: it sucks
[10:15] Laura: I get in at 715!
[10:18] mjheckman: ok
[10:18] mjheckman: see u tomorrow
[10:18] mjheckman: LU
[10:18] Laura: LU2
[10:48] *** "Laura" signed off at Wed Aug 09 10:48:21 2006.

Seven months sounds better than 214 days...

It seems like as we get closer time moves slower. 7 more months will be a grind... work is still consuming our lives. I'm not sure what we'd be going thru now if we didn't have the Big Trip in our sights.

The whole thing has recently become much more of a reality. We are making purchases (new sleeping bag, tent, laptop, stove, etc.); we have a list and we just keep checking off the items. We finished our 3rd round of shots for Japanese Encephalitis, Rabies and Hepatitis B. Yea... it's getting real.

The Trip has always seemed to be an "idea" or a "plan" but it is has now become actionable... with tasks and real issues that need to be dealt with.

I used to fall asleep thinking about work related issues most of the time. Now... I would say the majority of nights I fall asleep trying to calculate how heavy/light our packs will be during our treks in Patagonia and New Zealand.

Now it's just time...

Finally past the 300 day milestone...

Well we have finally made it past the 300 day barrier. Unfortunately it's going to be a major grind to make it another 10 months.

Work is only getting worse and there's no end in sight... except for 01.01.07.

As I always say... anytime one of your life's "thirds" (sleep, work & recreation) is out of whack, it throws everything out of whack.

297 and counting..........

ATW with Marc and Laura

We're counting down... T minus 18 months! You can always check the countdown my visiting: http://www.mjheckman.com/ATW_Trip/ATW_Trip.xls