tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57628024581440074442024-03-19T05:57:16.016-06:00 Backpacking EmThe musings and misadventures of a girl unpreparedEmily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-20733826735185389472016-03-20T02:42:00.001-06:002016-03-20T02:42:27.788-06:00I've moved!For all those of you who were wondering where I've gone or figured I'd given up writing for good this time, I thought it was about time that I posted on here that I've moved my internet ramblings to a new site called <a href="https://letskickthebucketlist.wordpress.com/">Let's Kick The Bucket List</a>.<div>
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Still some travel, more mental health awareness. Mostly just me <a href="https://letskickthebucketlist.wordpress.com/2016/01/01/my-year-without-fear-begins/">facing my fears</a>.</div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-16516804568510437862015-07-18T04:07:00.001-05:002015-07-18T04:13:07.002-05:00My Year Abroad<div class="MsoNormal">
As exam time is coming to a close and all my friends start
to trickle home from their various year abroad destinations, I figured it was
about time I write something about my experiences.</div>
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It’s been a mad one, in short. I've already written a fair
amount about my time in Mexico, about the violent love of my friends
accompanied by bullets fired from police weapons and wealth of culture
juxtaposed with the poverty of compassion from the hearts of those who hold the
power. I learned about unyielding strength in times of hardship and laughter in
the face of pessimism. Although I was unwell for a large amount of my stay,
there is not one ounce of me that regrets going. My heart was broken in more ways
than one, sleepless nights were abundant and tears shed uncountable, but oh
lord, I am so much stronger for it. It was chaotic and challenging and magical
in all the right ways.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Berlin, however, was short and not-so-sweet. Perhaps it was
because I finally had a minute to breathe after all the crazy. Perhaps it was
boredom. I really can’t decide. I started off well-ish, attending all my
classes which was a habit I had lost after being removed from studies UNAM. I'm
not sure if I was unwilling, or just simply unable to connect with others, so
I’ll settle for somewhere in the middle. I spent most of my time reflecting on
and processing what had happened to me, muddling my words when talking to new
faces and feeling genuinely disconnected from most conversations. I suppose my life was just in a very uncertain place.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Funky Berlin street art</div>
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The culture shock was overwhelming. It’s like what people
have often said to me about moving to London, that the shock isn't moving to
the city, but moving back to your small, quiet town. I was in a similar sort of
situation. I did a bit of exploring but felt so bewildered by the change in
scenery to enjoy it much. I kept on confusing my German with my Spanish, my
Spanish with my English. My accent in German was just weird and I had forgotten
even the most simple sentence structures. The sheer waste of consumerism and
pettiness of daily worries regularly brought me close to tears, and I longed to be
anywhere else. Not to mention, people in Berlin are just plain rude.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The <a href="http://www.altesbackhausberlin.de/">Backhaus</a> TEAM</div>
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I can’t say it was all bad. Over time I started to adjust a
little more, and though I never braved Berlin’s (in)famous night life, I did
manage to enjoy some other Berlin-esk fun. My house mates were great and we had
a day out urban exploring in an old spy base which has now been converted into
an arts space. I also LOVE Mauerpark, with its live music, live haircuts and
live, well, “music” with Bear Pit karaoke where tourists gather every Sunday to
embarrass themselves. The visits I had from two of my favourites from Mexico and my family were absolutely fab as well, and my friends from KCL really did pull me through. Plus
the food is cheap and the beer is cheaper, and you always feel safe walking
alone at night. I was simply in the wrong frame of mind to enjoy it like I
could have done.</div>
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My future Mexican hubby and I (we're marrying for visa purposes) losing our Pride virginity together.</div>
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Live music at Mauerpark</div>
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I’d like to go back sometime and do it again, but for me I
think Berlin will always be a better holiday destination than home. I did get
into Yoga while I was out there, which is one silver lining, and I stayed long
enough to hopefully achieve enough credits to avoid any resits in my final
year. Plus my new bestie lives out there too (if she ever returns from Mexico),
so it’d be hard to avoid it forever.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We'd got a load of money out to pay some bills and felt rich for about five minutes, so we made it rain money but then lost loads and had to crawl around on the floor to find it...</div>
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I suppose Berlin taught me that sometimes, it’s OK to stop.
You can push yourself too hard and your mind needs time to process things that
happen to you. With hindsight, I probably wasn't well enough to go away at all,
but in no way to a regret my decision to do so. It’s just made me realise that
although moving to a new country may seem like a fun adventure, and in most
respects it is, it’s also important never to forget the pressure it can have on your
mental well-being. You can take things too quickly and everyone needs time to
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I think the older I get, the more I realise the value of
time at home, in familiarity and in those who have known you for years. It’s a
place where you don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time, where you can relax and
just be yourself without having to worry about making new friends or impressing
anybody. In my mind I now have three ‘homes’: Preston, London and Mexico City,
though Preston will always be closest to my heart. It’s funny how going away
for thirteen months can make you realise the value of staying put. Roll on a
summer filled with old friends, Oxfam and English food. I think I've just about
earned it.<o:p></o:p></div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-82189704140794915502015-06-15T12:16:00.000-05:002015-06-15T12:27:04.366-05:00Change of Direction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once again I've proved miserable at posting on a regular basis. Honestly, I feel like the more I set writing goals for myself, the more I rebel against them. Much like I did as a child with my parents in fact.<br />
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I feel like my writing (in general, not just on here) has recently been lacking emotion and I've felt incredibly distant from it. I think that's what I've been missing in the past month or so, and that rather than suffering from pure writer's block, I've actually been suffering from lack of passion. It's times like these when I really struggle to simply blog about adventures and travel.<br />
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I've actually been travelling a lot recently, and having a really great time. I spent an awesome long weekend in Amsterdam with my sister, my good friend Anthony came over from Mexico and we explored London and Manchester, before heading off to Paris to watch the sunset from the Eiffel Tower, and lately I've been touristing up in Berlin like there's no tomorrow. But for some reason, I've found myself un-enthused to write about any of these really exciting experiences.<br />
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Last week, a friend repeated a quote to me whilst drunk at a festival that I posted on Facebook a good few years ago.<br />
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<i>“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”</i><i>- Miriam Adeney</i></h1>
Since she said (rather, slurred) it to me, I haven't been able to get it out of my head. What she got me thinking about is how I've spent so much time travelling and what it's like to feel at home.<br />
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I'm not really one to get homesick. I've always used travel as an escape from everyday life, something to turn to when things get bad to give myself a breather from the world. A bit ironic I suppose. However for the first time in my life, I was in no quick hurry to move on from my beloved Mexico City*. And that's not just because it's so amazing.<br />
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*I promise this isn't just another blog post about how much I love Mexico. Hear me out.<br />
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My stay in Mexico taught me the value that can be found in staying in one place for more than just a flying visit. I became so attached and entrenched in the culture and the people and the way of life, that I'm still finding it hard to let go. As much as I love fleeting visits to cities, I'm finding it harder to write about my shorter excursions, when I've not really had any time to form a bond with a place. Yes, I've had a great time and yes, I would go back (or not, depending on where it is!) but I'm a little tired of sounding like a less-hip version of a Lonely Planet travel guide.<br />
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It has also taught me things about myself that I couldn't have learned from a short stay. How to deal with real, strong, long-lasting friendships from a distance; both those from back home and the new ones in the foreign country. How to break through the other side of language barriers. How to deal with being a minority race - being white I'm lucky enough to practically never have to deal with this one in my own continent. How to really integrate into a society once the 'I'm a silly tourist' excuse no longer pays off. You live through festivals and memorials and the mundane day-to-day crap that you definitely don't see on a weekend getaway. Every city has so much more to it that tourist attractions, every person a story to tell.<br />
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Of course I'll still be jetting setting at any opportunity, when time and my bank balance allow. I'm not knocking short trips at all, rather just my own attitude towards travel. I think what I'm trying to say is, I don't think I'll be writing as much about the 'normal' travel things I do. I'll always share photos - you know I love a good instagram - but I'd like to start giving a bit more credit to each place that I visit. There's so much history and life and colour all over the world, I don't want to belittle it by simply writing about that trip I took to the Heineken Factory and accidentally drank too much (though I'd totally recommend going, we had a blast).<br />
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I don't know why I feel need to write all this in a post, because well, it's not your fault I'm fed up with my own writing style. Maybe it's my first step towards a deeper relationship with my travel writing. Gosh that sounds cheesy.<br />
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For those who don't follow my instagram, I'll post some pictures of my latest adventures at some point this week so you can all judge me for buying a selfie stick. Maybe I'll even write a little too.Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-57169275816392219162015-05-01T05:04:00.000-05:002015-05-01T05:04:35.433-05:00Lunch in PolandOn Wednesday afternoon I had some free time, so I decided to do something novel and head to Poland for lunch. The border is just an hour and a bit away from Berlin Hauptbahnhof, just take the train to Frankfurt Oder and walk across the bridge.<br />
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The idea initially occurred to Greg and I, because of our semester ticket of free travel within the Berlin-Brandenburg area. Unfortunately, I actually found out that our ticket doesn't go quite as far as the border (oopsy), but as I was already on my way back by the time the ticket lady caught me out, I was let off with a warning. Either way our semester tickets do go pretty far, so I think I'll be using it for further exploring on my Wednesday afternoons.<br />
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Edgy-look-I-was-in-Poland pic.</div>
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Germany on the left, Poland on the right.</div>
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The two towns are just divided by a little bridge over a river, with no passport control (good old European open borders) and it takes no more than five minutes to amble across. The majority of my afternoon was comprised of wandering along the river bank on the Polish side, which was a lovely, peaceful change from the madness of the big cities that I have grown accustomed to. The town itself, Slubice (anyone able to tell me how you how that's pronounced??) is tiny, and mainly just made up of cheap tobacco shops, hairdressers and tasty food.</div>
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The strangest thing I found is that although these towns are sooooo close together, and it was clear that people cross from one to the other on a regular basis, hardly anyone on either side speaks the other's language. Maybe that's something totally normal for border towns, but I just always assumed that if you lived so close by, there would either be a stark sense of bilingual-ness or some weird mismatch of the two being spoken - you know, like Spanglish but in this sense... Deutski. I quite like that word. </div>
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So most of the time I was stumbling through awkward conversations in broken German (regardless of which side I was on to be honest, my German skills can hardly be blamed on the locals) in order to buy cigarettes for a friend and a yummmmmmy lunch of Polish goulash and potatoes.</div>
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I know goulash isn't really Polish, but I just couldn't resist.</div>
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Loving my alcohol-free Polish beer and rocking the forehead creases.</div>
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My trip was a short one, as I said literally just for lunch, because I had to get back to Berlin for a yoga class that I was yet to discover, would nearly kill me. My fitness/bendy levels just aren't what they used to be. However I did get to potter through Frankfurt Oder a little on my way back, which was typical small-towny with pretty churches and a square with a fountain. I quite liked the atmosphere there actually, though I think I'm just tending towards peace-and-quiet a lot more now after my year of madness.</div>
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I liked this weird fountain a lot.</div>
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That evening I also moved into MY NEW HOUSE (I'm very excited about this) which is an old hostel converted into a WG of 28 people. Yes, you read that correctly t w e n t y - e i g h t people. I thought that it would be like another adventure in itself. It really is a bit like living in a cross between student accommodation and a hostel; I'm in a four person dorm, there's shared showers, a huge kitchen and a cleaning rota. I haven't met many people yet because it's been a pretty hectic few days plus I'm going home this weekend (WOOOO) for my sister Siobhan's hen do :D So I'll start my mingling and stuff next week, when I can really sit down and get to know people.</div>
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Today I think I'm heading to the park for some beers and *fingers crossed * sunshine before catching my flight at 9.30 tonight. Now it's probably time I got out of bed and packed...</div>
<br />Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-4550285028974798002015-04-25T02:01:00.002-05:002015-04-25T02:01:55.178-05:00Kill Your Darlings!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last Sunday I actually managed to get out for my first bit of exploring since I arrived in the city nearly three weeks ago. As my friends and I have already done most of the usual touristy things, we wanted to do something a little more 'off the beaten track', so we decided to follow my 'Franzi Guide to Berlin' which my awesome bestie, <span style="font-family: inherit;">who is originally from Berlin, made me as a leaving present from Mexico.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">First stop was visiting the theatre she used to work at called <a href="https://www.volksbuehne-berlin.de/">Volksbühne</a> and buying a mystery ticket to a show so I could spy on all her friends who work there. I chose a show called 'Kill Your Darlings! Streets Of Berladelphia', mainly because of the catchy title and the fact that it was only an hour and a half long. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's a pretty alternative venue, where they give out free matchboxes with slogans like 'Still Alive' and 'Fuck Off' branded across the front in shiny red<span style="font-family: inherit;"> typeface, and all their flyers are A5 stickers of the play titles with descriptions on the back. As a student willing to sit anywhere, my ticket cost just 6</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">€, which I later learned was an absolute </span></span><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">bargain.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">I took myself on a solo date night to see it on Wednesday, having no idea what I was letting myself in for. In short, it was a monologue critique of life, love, capitalism, communism and the self (or at least that's what I got from it, but I could be entirely wrong), with the main actor gallavanting around in nothing more that rainbow glitter leggings, surrounded by a gymnastics troop. There's singing and audience participation and a very bizarre use of stage props, so it ticked all the boxes for me. </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">I'm not completely fluent in German, so unfortunately I missed some of the key lines and jokes, but nonetheless I had an amazing time. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">Nothing like what I expected, I'll definitely be going back there soon.</span></div>
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After buying my ticket, we hopped back on the metro/underground/tube/whatever-it's-called-here to Eberswalder Straße in search for the promise of 'the best pizza place! supercheap and open until 4am'. Although it wasn't quite 4am, the promise of the best-super-cheap pizza was definitely appealing to four hungry students. To eat out in London on a regular basis as a student, you either need to have super rich parents or be willing to spare a kidney to the black market. Berlin, however, is no where near as pricey. An ENTIRE pizza costs just 3.90<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">€ (2.90</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">€ if you just got a plain </span><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">margarita) and it was delicious too. Honestly, I have never in my life been so happy to buy a pizza. So if your looking for a cheap eat near Mauerpark, Ebenswalder Stra</span>ße next to the Sparkasse is where it's at.</div>
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We then headed off to the famous Mauerpark, beers in hand, to check out what was left of the flee market (it was getting kind of late by this point) and enjoy the various artists who were dotted around, whilst lounging around in the rare North European sunshine. </div>
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Open-air karaoke which basically consisted of lots of tourists embarrassing themselves in front of a large audience. Great fun to watch though.</div>
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These guys were great! Live drum set that you couldn't not dance to. Serious festival vibes.</div>
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By the time we ended up leaving the park, the air was getting nippy and the sun had began to sink behind the high-rise flats. Still stuffed from our super tasty pizzas and one too many beers, we tottered back to the metro, sleepy eyed and satisfied with the days adventures.</div>
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Aside from going to see the show on Wednesday, my week consisted of nothing more than lots of going to school and getting lost. Nothing out of the ordinary really. I'm still taking it slow at the moment, because the culture shock between here and Mexico has been a bit overwhelming. So more day exploring and a mystery concert tonight with Greg (Matthew E. White anyone?) should hopefully make for another chilled out weekend.</div>
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A building I came across that is on ALL the postcards, when I got lost looking for <a href="https://www.volksbuehne-berlin.de/">Volksbühne</a>. The text reads 'Human will can move everything. This house used to be in another country'.</div>
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I love getting lost.</div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-70972870309719708392015-04-23T18:18:00.003-05:002015-04-23T18:18:33.709-05:00White Party and THE VIDEOInitially, my goodbye party was supposed to be on the roof of my house and we were going to keep it low-key and low-budget. Unfortunately, my pinche landlords had a different idea and in spite of the fact that we gave them three weeks notice about the party, they cancelled just five days before.<br />
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Luckily our new plan turned out to be even better. A friend of mine suggested that we rent an island in Xochimilico for the night, where we could camp and drink and make as much noise as we liked without the concern of neighbours or trashing someone's house. Image Mexican Venice in the countryside, without the glam and romance, but rather an entirely different kind of beauty.</div>
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My friend Geovanni's cousin works on the boats that take you to these islands, which are more like long floating rafts which you row with a big stick, so she took us there at not too much expense. We all dressed in white (embarrassingly inspired by the white party in Gossip Girl) and popped champagne as we went, all looking very classy and sophisticated for at least the first ten minutes. We also managed to get some really beautiful picture before everyone got too messy.</div>
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As you can see the most part consisted of alcohol, glitter fights, face paint and kinda looking like we were at a hippy wedding. But it was beautiful and fun, until later when the usual drama started but we'll just forget about that part.</div>
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And now the moment you've ALL been waiting for... my highlights video from Mexico and that trip to the States I took almost a year ago. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, let me know, so I can make more of my future trips. (I mean I'm gonna do it anyway, I just won't share them with you...)</div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-63161447439156892762015-04-19T02:20:00.001-05:002015-04-19T02:23:57.718-05:00First Weeks in Berlin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have now been in Berlin for just over two weeks for my second study abroad placement. I'm still homeless and living between a friend's couch and a hostel, still can't for the life of me remember how to speak German and am lamenting the fact that as I am no longer able to drink alcohol, I can't taste the beauty that is German beer. Aside from the slight downsides and the fact that an old lady confronted me in the street the other day calling me 'common' because I'm English, I have been able to have at least a little bit of fun, plus I suppose alcohol-free beer isn't allllllll that bad.</div>
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On my first night in the city my lovely friend Imogen came to meet me for a pizza and a beer in Friedrichsschain. It was an absolute lifesaver because after a 12 hour flight followed by a quick 24 hour pit stop in London, which was crazy-busy full of catching up with and seeing friends, I was pretty exhausted and disorientated. Not to mention the jet lag which hit me harder than it ever has done before! Even without alcohol, my first German beer was glorious and after almost a year of sleeping on a mattress on the floor, my comfy hostel bed was pretty darn luxurious. I'm staying in a hostel called <a href="http://plushostels.com/de/plusberlin">Plus Hostel Berlin</a>, which I would highly recommend - it's cheap, well located AND it even has a pool!</div>
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As I have been to Berlin before (see posts <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2014/03/berlin-meat-sweats.html">Berlin Meat Sweats</a> and <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2014/04/east-side-gallery.html">East Side Gallery</a>), I've already done a lot of the main tourist sights. However, when I came last year I fell down some stairs in a club and messed up my ankle (I can thank my old friend Paul for that one), so couldn't walk very far on the last day and missed a couple of key things.</div>
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EMILY AND GREG WERE REUNITED (he's doing his study abroad here!) at Checkpoint Charlie, which I'm sorry to say was kind of cool but a little underwhelming... I have, however, heard good things about the museum which I am yet to venture into, so I'll update on that when I finally get around to it.</div>
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I finally saw some real life Trabis which were THE car of East Germany before the reunification (I say THE car but in fact it was THE only car you could have... communism and all that) Anyway, I think they're cute but we couldn't go into the museum because Greg is a boring sod and wanted a beer, plus I'm super poor right now, so I probably couldn't have afforded it anyways. Also, I should probably note that they weren't this colour in the DDR...</div>
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We also made it to <a href="http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potsdamer_Platz">Potsdamer Platz</a>, which is famous for some reason that I can't remember because I am an awful German student, so I have been super kind and linked Wikipedia for you, in case you are interested. The area isn't particularly special; lots of tall office buildings makes it feel a bit like the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrObZ_HZZUc">City of London</a> but I took a photo nonetheless because it makes a good touristy Instagram shot.</div>
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I was also lucky enough to receive a visit from my mum and step-dad on my first weekend here (which is another reason why I haven't starved yet. Did I mention how poor I am?) Neither of them have ever visited the city, so we tried to fit in as much sight seeing as we could into two days, wandering from Alexanderplatz, past Humboldt, down Unter den Linden to the Brandenburger Tor, then to the Jewish Memorial and the Reichstag. We also managed to fit in another visit round to Checkpoint Charlie and Potsdamer Platz, so most of the big sights in one day IS possible, it's just a fair bit of walking.</div>
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The Jewish Memorial</div>
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One of many beer stops a long the way!</div>
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Some Berlin graffiti which I love and is everywhere. Expect more pictures like this in future posts.</div>
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On the last night they took me out for a traditional German meal of dumplings and sauerkraut and goulash (I know goulash is Hungarian but it was in a traditional German restaurant so it's nearly legit)</div>
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Unfortunately because of my pobreza and the fact that I'm not very well at the moment, I haven't been able to go out at all yet. Mostly I've just been going to University, which so far I have thoroughly enjoyed, and have been meeting up with old King's friends. Seeing my pals has probably been the highlight of the move so far; the stories of the past year's adventures in various parts of the world and the old 'in' jokes have made me feel a lot more at ease in a strange and new place.</div>
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So here's to another week of 'can you repeat that please?' and insults from random strangers on my lack of class. I move back to the hostel tomorrow for eleven days, before a weekend at home for my beautiful sister Siobhan's hen do (SO EXCITED!!), and fingers crossed I will return to my own place.</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-36697644534721900142015-04-14T05:04:00.001-05:002015-04-14T05:04:42.271-05:00Josephine 'Panda' Youd<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>HAPPY </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(belated)</span> <b>21ST BIRTHDAY JOSIE!!!</b></div>
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I cannot believe how young you are and how old I am. Honestly, the novelty of now being legally old enough to drink in the States has loooooong for me and here you are living it large, reminding me of how I'll always be just that little bit closer to zimmer frames and false teeth.</div>
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The unstoppable threesome in <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/budapest-round-2.html">Budapest</a>. How are we so fit?</div>
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Um yer. This happened.</div>
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You are indisputably one of the ordinary incredibles in my life. My second mother, dietitian, wannabe lesbian lover, future bridesmaid and fellow travel addict, we've been through more together in our first three years of higher education than any ill-equipped pair of teenagers should go through, yet come out the other side stronger than ever. We've got long distance friendship down. tackled crazy ex-flatmates like pros and survived more than our fair share of ridiculous dramas, which we should definitely write down and sell as a script to Channel 4. Through everything you've been there, my pillar of stability and sanity (well... my kind of sanity), always coaxing me out of my dark holes with chocolate cheese cake and at times yanking me back to reality with a kind but stern word. You've supported me through various ridiculous hairstyles and questionable outfit choices (<a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/12/identity-thief-vlog.html">even trying some out yourself</a>) as well as the tough stuff, and I know that this isn't a friendship that can be easily broken.</div>
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Christmas 2012, I can't even remember why you did this.</div>
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Britney LOVING LIFE.</div>
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I want to thank you for so many things. For always sticking by me, but not being afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. For being a relentless force of positivity, not only in my life but in the lives of all those who come across you. For your gorgeous smile and victory dances and no-filter silliness that we all love. For teaching me to be more confident about myself and my body. For your unpredictability and hilarious fan-girling that continuously reminds me about the importance about having passion for life. For holding my hand through the difficult times. For never giving up on me, even when I had given up on myself. And for everything that is to come, the good times and the bad, the adventures, the smiles, the tears and the inevitable 8am morning-breath-scented cuddles and bitching sessions about life.</div>
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That time in <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/bull-testicles-and-sun-burn.html">Bratislava</a> that you burned yourself SO BADLY that you looked like a cross between a Teletubby and Cheryl Cole (and I'm referring to her <a href="http://i3.mirror.co.uk/incoming/article2217915.ece/ALTERNATES/s615/Cheryl-Coles-latest-tattoo.jpg">ass tattoo</a>)</div>
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Christmas 2013.</div>
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Our adventures are some I will never forget. <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/33-hours-from-cologne-to-krakow-say-what.html">Krakow</a>, <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/auschwitz.html">Auschwitz</a>, <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/budapest-round-2.html">Budapest</a>, Vienna, <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/bull-testicles-and-sun-burn.html">Bratislava</a>, <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/serbian-madness.html">Belgrade</a>, <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/journey-to-sarajevo.html">Sarajevo</a>,<a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/99-years-to-day.html"> Mostar</a>, Dubrovnik, Edinburgh, PRESTON and obviously London *queue <span style="font-family: inherit;">Beyonc<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">é - Schoolin' Life*. From eating bull's testicles to receiving life advice from my intoxicated bride-to-be-sister, we've experienced some pretty awesome things together in just a few years of friendship. It's funny, because whilst these three years have flown by, it also feels like I've known you my whole life. I think really do think our friendship is a beautiful thing, not only because it's so unbreakable and real, but also because we are two people who are so undeniably different in so many ways, yet we love each other completely and unconditionally. It's cheesy but true to say you make my life so much brighter and I couldn't be more grateful that your Dad spoke to me that first day in Moonraker and thoroughly embarrassed you trying to set us up as friends. Thanks for that one, Stephen.</span></span></div>
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That time we went to <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.de/2013/06/street-kids_30.html">Mostar</a>.</div>
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Sometimes we look alright too.</div>
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It's fair to say it's been an incredibly eventful three years and I wouldn't change it for the world, because everything we've been through has made us who we are today. I love you to the moon and back you beautiful human and I'm so excited for everything that's to come and the fact that we get to LIVE TOGETHER AGAIN next year and annoy the shit out of whoever ends up with the pleasure of our company. Here's to another three HUNDRED years of being inseparable (no matter how much ocean is between us), hangovers, heart-to-hearts and screaming Tay-Tay at the top of our lungs. Ich hab dich SO VIEL lieb.</div>
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My favourite pic of us.</div>
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Oh and just a little extra, to give people who haven't met you yet a little more of an idea of what they're in for. Heh heh heh.</div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-86127777035904402072015-04-08T18:00:00.001-05:002015-04-08T18:06:22.681-05:00Goodbye for now, Mexico<span style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; line-height: 15.3599996566772px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>“I like messy people; people who don’t fit in a box or stay between the lines, but who’s integrity is greater than any rule book and who’s loyalty is stronger than blood.”
Jim Wern</i>
In April 2014, I made a last minute and rather impulsive decision to give my study abroad year a go. I'd just taken my self off medication (not sensible kids, always speak to your doctor first!) and I was feeling great, so I thought 'fuck it, why not?'. </span></span><br />
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I thought I knew exactly what to expect. In first year I lived with loads of exchange students, and I'd witnessed lots of partying, travelling and general debauchery. All the cliché language barriers and culture jokes came up on a regular basis, there was a lot of gossip, tears, laughter and the like. Basically, I'd been given the impression of the typical L'auberge Espagnole year abroad and that all seemed rather appealing to me; a well-earned break from the ongoing stress of the last few years of my life.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; line-height: 15.3599996566772px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I didn't know how wrong I could be.
Instead I ended up taking part in a failed uprising, being shot at by police, hitch-hiking through the jungle, living without water, crawling through caves, hiding an illegal immigrant, crying my way through the Guatemalan border control, dropping out of uni due to students being shot on campus, rekindling old friendships and making new ones, meeting a best friend who I love unconditionally (even if she does like to turn people into soap) and falling in love with a bunch of salvajes whilst hiding from my accidental drug-dealer boyfriend in Chiapas, who ended up becoming an unshakeable part of my life in DF (the salvajes, not the accidental boyfriend). And all this on top of the usual language struggles, homesickness and other difficulties that come with being the foreign kid in a new country and kind of sucking at the language.</span></span><br />
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Ignoring the slight blip at Christmas where I was forced to go home, my stay in Mexico totalled just over 10 months. It'd be a lie to say I loved every minute of it because sometimes it was downright painful (running for our lives, the love triangles, bailing people out of jail...), but I can't say I regret a single second. Not surprisingly, I've learned heaps about myself, not to mention an entirely new culture and way of life. Oh, and I kind of speak Spanish now too, which I suppose was the idea of this all along.
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I don't know how to thank everyone I met enough for the incredible time I've had. I know the bonds we've made are so much stronger that the distance between us (ew did I really just write that? Too many Mexican feelings) and I know we've got many more exciting times ahead. I'll miss la pobreza, chilaquiles and living my life vicariously through Blair Waldorf more than you can imagine. Ahora son todos un parte de mi corazón y sería imposible olvidar como cambió mi vida con ustedes. Los quiero CHINGOS y los veo para mitzear pronto (Franzi y Anthony sólo dos meses!!) </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; font-family: inherit; line-height: 15.3599996566772px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I really have found a new home.</span><br />
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**Video coming soon!**</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; font-family: inherit; line-height: 15.3599996566772px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-1587933078443825692015-02-22T11:50:00.000-06:002015-02-22T11:50:24.336-06:00End of the HaitusIt's been exactly four months since I felt I could actually write something on here. It's been a crazy time if I'm honest, and I have good reason for really not knowing how to share my experiences. On top of the uncertainty also came the problem of safety, because although I'm not some big shot <span style="font-family: inherit;">blogger with a million followers, some of the things that happened to me, my friends and those around me proved that speaking out can get you into a lot of trouble with the wrong kinds of people.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">The last trip I wrote about on here was one I took to Puerto Rico (and Martinique, which I am yet to write about) which happened pretty much exactly when the trouble started here in Mexico. I don't want to write too much about the beginnings of it all now (because it would simply take too long to explain), but here is a post I wrote closer to the time to give you a little more background information:</span><br />
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<a href="http://theglossa.com/2014/11/16/ya-me-canse-an-insight-into-mexicos-43/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ya Me Cans</span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 54px;">é - An Insight into Mexico's 43</span></a></div>
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Unfortunately, just two weeks after I submitted this article, I had to leave the country due to the events that had taken place on my university campus. It was an incredibly painful experience for me, having to say goodbye on such short notice to a group of people I had grown to love so much, not knowing when I'd be able to return or if they'd ever be able to come and visit me. I also felt so helpless, having experienced first had in the marches just what the state was/is capable of doing to innocent and peaceful protesters, and entirely unsure of what I'd be able to do from so far away.</div>
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I wanted to share some of my photos from the peaceful protests that took place over the time I was here, just to give a little insight into the reality of the situation that the Mexican people were facing. The movement was powerful and strong, but above all it was peaceful, yet that doesn't seem to make the government listen, nor does it stop violent actions against innocent people.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='420' height='315' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwpEG9WPOeewFMCIPyRJIZ-WuFJv4ghMLQw2O8anbxe2-V-BwZK7FJc_zEh4EiFja_Blm6zPJ0dXNoQAxfvgQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">About 10 minutes after the last picture, just before the second wave of running as the police stormed the main square. Gun shots, explosions and people panicking like crazy. We continued running for 10-15 minutes more after this (time gets a bit blurred in my head, it was all a bit surreal).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b>This is how the state reacts to a peaceful movement.</b></span></span></div>
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It's quite a weird experience for me now, writing about all this retrospectively. It was all so real at the time, so intense and emotional and yet for some reason, all that has died down so much since December. I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to come back after Christmas, but now here I am, having lived another two months in the country with hardly a word from the uprising that seemed to be upon us just months ago. It's now a running joke that the revolution took Christmas holidays and didn't really revive itself afterwards. I've heard of marches and meetings around university since I came back, but the spirit hardly seems as strong as before I left. Maybe I'm wrong or just a little out of the loop now, but it already feels like everything we went through is now just part of history, stories to tell and not much more. </div>
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I can say however, that so far I have got so much more than I bargained for from what was supposed to be a chilled out year abroad. Experiencing injustice firsthand is something that us white, privileged westerners are fortunate enough to be able to avoid, sometimes for our entire lives, making it a lot easier to turn a blind eye from problems in the world will never really affect us. I have to admit that over the past few years I lost a lot of my 'change the world' spirit, due to growing up and illness and the numbness of the world, thinking that there is SO much bad, that my wanting to be good would never really make a difference. But what happened here really brought that back in me, and it's back with a vengeance. I am yet to figure out just what that means for my future, what am I going to do or who I am going to be, but I do know that I can no longer continue to sit back and just watch.</div>
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<i>Sorry for the disturbances. We are changing the country - WORLD.</i></div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-50951850205224761992014-10-22T15:26:00.000-05:002014-10-22T15:32:01.775-05:00In Puerto Rico, we fly kitesLast week I decided to fly the Mexican nest for an adventure a little further afield, to visit my friend Imogen who is currently on her study abroad semester in Martinique. En route I even managed to fit in a cheeky stop over in the lovely island of Puerto Rico, where I couchsurfed one night with an energetic local called Omar, who did an incredible job of showing me around the old town in the short time I had.<br />
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It actually took three connecting flights to get to Martinique, which meant I also got to have breakfast in Miami at TGI Friday's. Yuuuuuuummy.</div>
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Most of my time in Puerto was spent simply wandering around the town (and I do love a good wande<span style="font-family: inherit;">r, me) hopping in and out of various bars, cafes and even an arts university. Omar knew just about anyone and everyone we bumped into, making the 'local' experience that I love about couchsurfing all the more authentic. One place in particular that we stopped off at was a bar that had once been </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pedro Albizu Campos's house, one of Puerto Rico's most important </span></span><span style="color: #141823;"><span style="line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;">revolutionaries</span></span><span style="color: #141823; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 17.9400005340576px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (if not the most important, or at least that's the impression I got!) It was really interesting for me to see as one of my modules at university is the Revolutions of the 20th Century, and there I was in his house, seeing the bullet holes in the wall and original newspaper clippings from the time.</span></span></span><br />
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Some of the street art around the city. Of course I had to get a touristy picture next to the Puerto Rican flag.</div>
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Beautiful little cobbled streets and colourful buildings.</div>
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Whilst we were sitting having a drink at the plastics school, I noticed there were dozens of kites hanging from the trees in the courtyard. My first thought was that it was some kind of design or artsy statement, after all it is an arts university, but my ponderings were soon answered by Omar as we walked across the beach (which is located just outside the school, making it one of the most picturesque places to study I have ever encountered).</div>
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<i style="text-align: center;">'When you're a kid in the UK, your dad takes you to play soccer, right? And in the States they throw a football. Well here in Puerto Rico, we fly kites.'</i></div>
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Father and son kite flying time.</div>
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A good portion of our time was spent exploring what Omar called the 'barrio' which literally translates to 'neighbourhood' or 'suburb'. The difference between the barrio streets and those in the centre of Old San Juan were immediately evident; much more miss-matched and improvised much like those that I've grown accustomed to in my beloved Mexico, splattered with vibrant graffiti creating a unique atmosphere on every corner. It was clear that the houses where not of a government funded project, but each had been individually laboured over by its owner, creating a beautiful maze of colour and shapes as we wound ourselves through the higgledy-piggledy network of homes, corner stores and bars. Perhaps it was the complete rawness of the place and the people, or the utter disorganised organisation that pulsed from every wall, but this is the part of San Juan that really stole my heart. The part that isn't done up for the tourists, but the real, gritty Puerto Rico.</div>
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And LOOK where it is located. Just, wow.</div>
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We continued our tour of the town, stopping by a few bars on the way of course, and thus my sampling of local cuisine began. The food was great, especially this fried plantain/potato/meat combo called 'Alcapuria' (pictured below) and a very fancy looking prawn cocktail with plantain crisps. Basically all the plantains, which is funny for me because the only other Puerto Rican guy I've ever known used to bring plantains to every potluck dinner we had... It would appear that some stereotypes really are true.</div>
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Omar telling me to 'pretend to eat it' for the picture, until we realised that it kinda just looked like a giant, deep-fried penis (it is nicknamed 'El Bisexual'), which of course I couldn't stop laughing about for several hours.</div>
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Although the food was great I can't say the same for the beer. As Puerto Rico is technically part of the United States (but also not at the same time, apparently not even people from the island understand exactly how this works), unfortunately they have the same crappy 'light beer' that they have in the States, which basically just tastes like beer flavoured water. I'm sorry guys, European beer is still the best. However, unlike in the States, it was relatively inexpensive and they didn't check my I.D. every five seconds, so I suppose I really can't complain too much.</div>
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The night continued in a similar vein, more exploring, drinking (apparently the more light beer you drink, the better it starts to taste) and we even met some other couchsurfers in a bar owned by Omar's friend, who we eventually went salsa dancing with. The salsa bar even had a live band in which the majority of the musicians had dreadlocks *swoons*. So despite the fact that by this point I hadn't slept in about 48 hours and I was borderline delirious, I had a pretty awesome night.</div>
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The next morning we decided to take a stroll (well, more like a clamber, I'm hardly graceful) across the rocks and corals on the beach. It was a beautiful morning, the sea air was fresh and inviting and the water endless and full of life. I just love the sea. I don't know if I've ever shared this on here, but my biggest dream is to own my own hostel on a beach, so every time I visit the shore my heart strings are tugged on just a little more. There's something about the water that just calls to me and I can't wait for the day when I don't have to leave.</div>
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Our destination was a quiet beach a little way down from the barrio. where we came locals kitted out with their fishing gear and taking a morning paddle.</div>
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And this is where the real fun began. We'd timed our little adventure perfectly, to give us enough time for a short swim before returning back to the house, grabbing my bags and heading off to the airport to catch my flight. However, this is me and I like to do stupid things to ruin plans because that's just what I'm good at. Let's just say I learned a very valuable lesson about swimming through coral reefs that morning.<br />
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Exhibit A: How to Swim through a coral reef like a pro:<br />
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Exhibit B: How to swim through a coral reef like an idiot, not factoring in the salt content in the water making it a lot harder to stay under the water than you're used to, thus causing you to float to the top scratching your back and dragging your hand across a sea urchin which hurts like HELL and almost results in a trip to the hospital just hours before your flight:<br />
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<a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Treat-a-Sea-Urchin-Sting">How to Treat a Sea Urchin Sting</a></div>
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The picture actually doesn't make it seem so bad, but I promise you it was bloody agony, and I have a pretty high pain threshold. To make matters worse I couldn't actually go to the hospital in Puerto Rico because I didn't actually have health insurance there, and we couldn't get any of the spines out ourselves so I just had to board my flight with a swollen, bloody hand and wait until I arrived in Martinique, which is thankfully part of France (three cheers for European health insurance!). Luckily, it turned out I didn't even need to go to hospital in the end, but in case anyone else finds themselves in a similar situation, I've included the link of how to treat a sea urchin sting above, because it would have been bloomin' useful for me to know this at the time. You live and you learn eh?</div>
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So in less than 24 hours I managed to get a whole lot fit in and I really enjoyed my stay. It almost felt like a taster session of the country and I definitely feel like I'll have to return one day!</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-71911225291441620862014-09-29T17:11:00.001-05:002014-09-29T17:24:24.450-05:00Mexican Independence, English Teaching and the Caribbean<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's midday and I just caught myself sat on my bed, only half
dressed - despite being up for several hours - and eating nutella straight out
of the jar with my fingers, so I decided it's probably about time I do
something productive with my day. My productive activity of choice just happens to be writing
this, because although this is kiiiind of a form of procrastination from my
actual work, I like to view it as constructive procrastination... in that one
day Lonely Planet will see my blog and give me my dream job and I will no
longer have care about translating satirical newspaper articles about political
correctness into Spanish. A girl can dream, eh?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, the last couple of weeks have been rather
crazy here. Two weeks ago we had Mexican Independence day, with more parties to
attend and more alcohol to consume than humanly possible. Despite the official
date of Independence Day being 16</span><sup style="font-family: inherit;">th</sup><span style="font-family: inherit;"> September, it would appear that
just one day of merriment is nowhere near enough for Mexicans, with festivities
spanning pretty much the entire week. Too hungover to attend any of the
official celebrations (oopsy), I just attended parties of various friends
throughout the extended weekend, salsa-ing my heart out as per usual and taking
full advantage of the free booze.</span></div>
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Party number two of three for Independence Day. Edgar (in the big hat) has never looked so Mexican.</div>
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However, my favourite part about the whole weekend was seeing just how proud Mexicans are, simply of being Mexican. National pride is a relatively alien concept to me, as us Brits tend to be disliked on a pretty international scale for so many things. So the idea of having a day to celebrate how awesome it is just to be British would be completely ridiculous. It'd be like that year that we entered that <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9y8hqsYXTw">awful patriotic song</a> in the Eurovision Song Contest with the Union Jack plastered all over the stage and then were given 'nil point' by literally every single country. Also I'm very aware we never had to gain independence and we were the ones running around conquering everyone like we owned the bloody planet... so not cool.<br />
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As it was such a mad weekend, I decided to take some time off from any liver-destroying and bank-draining antics and focus on school work and the like...<br />
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Don't laugh, I'm being serious.<br />
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As well as attempting to start working hard, Franzi and I had the genius idea of advertising ourselves as language teachers for German and English, as we really want to get some travelling done after this term ends and as it stands we might not be able to have the cash to do that.<br />
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So we postered like crazy all over campus (no rules against that here, it's awesome), only realising after we'd finished that Franzi had actually provided her name, facebook and phone number to four entire faculties. I swear to God if you put our brains together, maybe we'd just about make one logical person. Or all the stupid stuff would form together and we'd never actually get anywhere in life. Who knows?<br />
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But despite this minor setback, it worked! For the first time in my life I'm self-employed (how fancy does that sound?) and so far it's turning out to be really successful. As much as I love hanging out with my friends and meeting people at parties, it actually feels really good to now be doing something productive with my free time. As fun and carefree as student life can be, it's sometimes really positive to have some structure to your days, especially when you only have a three day timetable like I do. It can become dangerously tempting to waste all of your time off on tumblr or catching up on the latest gossip (guilty!) rather than using your time to benefit yourself or the lives of other people around you, and personally, I've found that the more productive you try to be, the easier it becomes. I think I've wrote this before, but life really is about getting the balance between structure and free time just right.<br />
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I've also just realised that all this must sound rather amusing after the way this post started off. I promise, I have already left the house and taught two classes today after a rather difficult weekend, so I was just having a bit of me time with my one and only true love i.e. food, before getting back to actually making something of my day. Like I said, balance is important, and for me that balance includes a bit of self-care in the form of an entire jar of Nutella. That OK with you?<br />
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The last two weeks also saw the departure of my gorgeous friend Shelly back to Taiwan after her two month trip out here. I met Shelly along with the rest of the London exchange crew back in my first year of university when I was living in those really international student halls. I feel like she fell in love with Mexico just as much as I am doing, and I'm just so glad I got to see her again after such a long time.<br />
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At a Cuban salsa club in La Roma, showing the boys how it's done.</div>
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Aside from a lot of hanging out at uni a lot, accidentally attending the wrong class for SEVEN weeks (because I'm a super genius) and an accidental party that trashed my bedroom, I haven't got much else to report. I really do want to start doing some more cultural things in the city soon, because I am really settled in now and there is so much to do here. We were actually planning a trip to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puebla,_Puebla">Puebla</a> last week, a nearby city that is supposed to be stunning, but unfortunately those plans fell through for various reasons. Fingers crossed we'll be able to get organising it for another time though.<br />
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After our weekly Wednesday afternoon lunch in Arquitectura. I'm happy because I'm full of chilaquiles (and I suppose the company was alright too)</div>
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However, despite our failed Mexican travel plans, in three days time I'll be jetting of to Martinique, to visit my lovely friend Imogen who I study German with at King's. The lucky so and so is studying abroad in the French Caribbean for the first part of her year away, so I'm off to soak up some rays and climb a volcano, and you know, make sure she's doing alright out there. And the trip actually couldn't have come at a better time, as I've recently really been missing home and familiar faces, so it'll be nice to be able to word vomit at someone in the worst English accent ever, without worrying about being misunderstood. Not that I'm not having the time of my life out here, but sometimes things happen when you are away from home and you just need to be back in a familiar setting for a little while. I'm just lucky enough for that familiarish setting to be incredibly near a beach. I also have a day's layover in Puerto Rico on the way, a place I haven't visited since I was about 10 years old, so it'll be interesting to see if I actually remember any of it.Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-19902770726521183292014-09-12T21:02:00.000-05:002014-09-12T21:09:31.145-05:00San Cristóbal de las Casas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know, I can't believe it either, but I'm FINALLY getting around to writing about what happened during my time in San Cris<span style="font-family: inherit;">t<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.2222232818604px;">ó</span>bal</span> de las Casas. It's going to take more than one post (I did live there for over a month!) so bear with me, and I hope you find it as interesting to read about as I did living it.</div>
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If you were following my adventures all those months ago in July (oopsy), you may recall that my last actual travel post was <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.mx/2014/07/camping-in-clouds.html">Camping in the Clouds</a> and I'd basically just arrived in San Cris before heading off to camp in the jungle for a few days. Well you'll be happy to know that I didn't die from those ridiculous bug bites I'd received from whatever nasties decided to gnaw at my poor leg, nor did the exhaustion entirely stop me from putting my tourist hat on (though I was a tad lazy for the first two weeks...).<br />
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I did a lot of pottering about the city by myself in the following days, as both Adriana and Manu have jobs and the like, To be honest I thoroughly enjoyed this down time as Greg and I had been doing some really fast, hardcore travelling through the country for a month, and it was nice to just take a breather for a few days. Thus began my love affair with Jack Kerouac and Chiapas' finest hot chocolate, because seriously, no one does hot chocolate like the Mexicans. I tried a LOT of it while I was there, but if you're ever in town I'd recommend <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g150802-d2542955-Reviews-Oh_la_la-San_Cristobal_de_las_Casas_Southern_Mexico.html">Oh La La</a>, which is a French bakery and also does A-MAY-ZING chocolate eclairs, or another place, that is slightly more pricey but worth every penny, called something like Xocolates and can be found in a mini shopping centre thing just off Guadalupe. The whole cafe is dedicated to hot chocolate, meaning you can have it made just the way you like it, down to the flavour, sweetness and type of milk they use.<br />
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Source: <a href="http://blog.murdomcdermid.co.uk/">Murdo McDermid</a>.</div>
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<i>'I stumbled after as usual as I've been doing all my life after people that interest me, because the only people that interest me are the mas ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing... but burn, burn, burn like roman candles across the night...'</i></div>
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<i>- Jack Kerouac, On The Road</i></div>
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As well as chilling in the days, I tended to use the nights to party with the locals and couchsurfing friends, resulting in one fateful mezcal story (which unfortunately isn't blog appropriate) and ridiculous amounts of dancing. It was here I actually discovered just how much I adore salsa dancing, and I still can't get over the novelty of being asked to dance rather than simply having someone come up behind me and grind on me/touch me inappropriately. It's nice to be able to go out at night without having to punch someone in the mouth for being a total perv.<br />
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Most of our nights where spent in a bar called <a href="http://www.elrevo.com/">Revolución</a> (ironically situated directly across from a Burger King), which is probably the most popular in the city and has a different music themed night every day of the week. However, I should probably note that as much fun as it can be, it's one of those places where you always see the same people, which tends to result in a lot of drama and the inability to escape your antics from the previous nights. One of those 'everybody knows everybody's business' kind of places. But fun, nevertheless.<br />
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Outside Revo after the unlucky Mexico vs Holland World Cup match.</div>
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I was also lucky enough to be in the city for the festival of San Juan Chamula, which is a festival in the indigenous town of the same name, situated in the hills next to San Cris. It was quite a surreal experience, not only because my friend Justin and I where clearly the only blonde people around, but also because the language spoken in the town was Tzotzil, not Spanish, so even my other Spanish-speaking Mexican friends stood out. We were surrounded by people in their traditional dress (which unfortunately I couldn't take any pictures of at the time because cameras weren't allowed), with loud music blasting from the huge stage at the front which reminded me of something between Mexican folk and a German Oompah ensemble.</div>
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The church was another other-worldly experience. Due to the Spanish Conquest and the subsequent 'conversions' to Christianity that took place, the religious practices of the people have taken on a compromise combining Christian practices with those of the traditional Mayan religion. There were giant statues of saints bordering a spacious hall, all of which were ornately decorated with colourful fabrics and tinsel, whilst the floor was littered with hay and candles. Seriously, there were candles everywhere (healthy and safety alert!). The local people were kneeling by various saints with their little lines of candles, praying and utter rituals, which involved pouring sweet drinks such as Coke and others I didn't recognise around their candle-altars. Some swayed and others seemed to be blessing family members, and we even saw one sacrifice a chicken.</div>
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Perhaps it was the copious amounts of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pox_(drink)">Pox</a> we had been drinking or the sugar high I was getting from the delicious, delicious churros I was gorging on, but the whole scene was utterly enchanting, despite being somewhat bizarre. It felt very strange to be an onlooker to all this; I didn't feel right treating other's personal, religious beliefs and a spectacle to be leered at, especially by some white, privileged tourist without the foggiest idea about what was actually going on. Finding the line between intrigue and accidental disrespect for another culture can often be quite difficult. So feeling enlightened, yet a bit awkward, we decided to leave and head back to San Cris to leave the locals to do their thing in peace.</div>
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Source: <a href="http://blog.murdomcdermid.co.uk/">Murdo McDermid</a></div>
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To give you an idea of the traditional dress, these are a few of the street sellers from San Cris who's picture Murdo took with permission. Apparently in some of the communities it is believed that by having your picture taken can be dangerous because the camera can steal your soul through your eyes, which means that you can even be arrested for taking a picture in some areas. So respect local customs and don't go wielding your camera like a lunatic unless you know what the deal is.</div>
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In amongst the chilling and the hot chocolate and the partying, I also had the opportunity to help Adriana out in teaching some of her English classes in the local area: one in a rural community about one and a half hours drive away through the hills and another in the prison of a neighbouring town. And surprisingly, the two experiences weren't all that different. Whilst I've previously taught in a school back home, I have never come across a group of children so eager to learn and grateful for their lessons as I did in the village. We just did a simple English lesson about family (which, if you know my rather complicated, modern family, is always an interesting one!) but they were all so enthusiastic and excited to learn, unlike a lot of the kids back home. It was a lovely to share just a few hours with such a delightful group of children and the time flew by.<br />
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The main difference between that class and the one in the prison, mainly just lay in the age of the pupils. It is a male-only prison and the class is of course free and completely voluntary, yet so many people showed up! We taught a little about the differences between British English and American English, as well as attempting to explain the UK, Great Britain and England (no, they are not all the same thing). The guys were so lovely and full of questions, it made it really difficult for me to believe that these were actually 'criminals', locked up for one reason or another. It was one of those perspective changing situations, and I was really sad to have to say goodbye to the class, knowing it's likely that I won't be able to return for a very long time, if at all.</div>
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Finally, I got to meet so many awesome people in my first two weeks of stay. I spent a lot of time with Adriana's flatmate Brenda, and consequently ended up meeting a lot of the couchsurfers she had staying over. This further resulted in meeting random people in the street during meal times, because a lot of the tables would be situated outside of a restaurant, and well, the world is just a small place and everyone seems to know everyone in San Cris. So our unlikely band of 'hitch-hikers' spent a lot of time together dreaming up all sorts of ridiculous plans, playing cards and munching on cheap empanadas. And to my surprise, these hypothetical ideas of hitch-hiking became reality, and I ended up joining an Italian guy called Mirko in hitch-hiking to Palenque and escaping San Cris for a little while. But that's its own blog post entirely. </div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-25528278299404441902014-09-08T15:35:00.000-05:002014-09-10T10:23:35.410-05:0022 Reasons I Have Fallen in Love with MexicoHappy Birthday to meeeee (only five days late, this week has been a mad one!) I can't believe it's already come around again, seems like only yesterday that I was writing <a href="http://backpacking-em.blogspot.mx/2013/09/21-reasons-to-love-being-alive.html">21 Reasons to Love Being Alive</a> and dressing up as Alice in Wonderland like the big kid I am. And now I'm on the other side of the world in Mexico, celebrating my first birthday abroad, which has been filled with extraordinary amounts of cerveza, drunk tacos, incredible friends and merriment, as well as a failed attempt at making skittles vodka (please don't try that at home kids... not without a recipe at least).<br />
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In other news, my laptop has FINALLY arrived so that means more blogging! YAY!<br />
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*tumble weed*<br />
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Well, at least I'm excited. I've challenged myself to try and start writing twice a week now rather than just once, because really, how often does one get to live in Mexico on government funds, with barely a care in the world and only three days of actual responsibility? Plus I have sooooo much to catch you all up on. I mean I still can't believe I haven't written anything about San Cristobal or living here in DF (that's Mexico City, FYI). However after such a lovely lovely lovely birthday week, I'm feeling all the Mexican love and it seems only right to dedicate my birthday post to the country and the people who made it so great. Then I'll get round to more travel things, I promise :D<br />
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So here it goes, 22 reasons I have fallen in love with the amazing country that is Mexico...<br />
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1. It's one of the most beautiful countries I've ever visited, with an incredibly diverse landscape.<br />
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2. Tacos are the best drunk/hangover food ever.<br />
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3. It's literally impossible to get bored.<br />
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The landscape, the history, the culture, the food, the people... combine it all and there is honestly never a dull moment. By the time I leave Mexico I will have been here nearly a year and there is no way I'll have experienced there is to experience, eaten everything there is to eat or visited everywhere there is to visit. Which, on the plus side, gives me another excuse to come back (not that I'm actually lacking in those).</div>
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4. The weather (I'm English, of COURSE that's important).</div>
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Los Mochis, all of the heat, EW.</div>
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After 2 weeks of intense sunshine, I nearly cried of joy when it rained in Guadalajara.</div>
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I've endured highs of 40 degrees and torrential downpours. Of course I'm usually happier in the rain, but as I'm always game for trying something new, it's been really cool to experience the extremes in weather that I would never be able to at home. Even if that does mean that my shoulders now look a different race to the rest of my body, and that due to the rainy season, I nearly drown on my way back from class everyday. </div>
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5. All of the swimming.</div>
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Swimming in Hierve el Agua, in a natural infinity pool on the edge of a cliff in the mountains. Say WHAAAAT.</div>
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6. The questionable levels of health and safety, making everything just that little bit more exciting.</div>
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The first line of the sign reads, 'Use the door', which considering the side of the wall was covered in large, rusty nails AND we'd been drinking all day, would have been sensible. But then again it was locked, so I mean, we didn't have a choice... right?</div>
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7. There are over 60 recognised languages spoken here. So much language geeking.</div>
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8. They love the gays almost as much as I do.</div>
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This was taken at Guadalajara Pride. I'm very aware that the level of homophobia varies from state to state and generation to generation, but here in Mexico City I've met nothing but positivity and love for diversity. There are even adverts on the underground for equal rights for the LGBT community and posters supporting transgender people. It's incredible and to be honest we could learn a thing or two from this back home.<br />
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9. No matter what the weather, there is never a grey day.</div>
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10. The warmness of the people.<br />
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I'm a very tactile and huggy sort of person, so it's wonderful to come to a country where this is completely the norm. I love that I greet my friends with a kiss whenever I see them and holding hands with someone isn't automatically misconstrued as something more than just friendly touch. Maybe is because it's one of my '<a href="http://www.5lovelanguages.com/">love languages</a>' or maybe it's because the people back home are just a lot less open to platonic physical closeness, but this is one of the elements of this country that I will miss the most when I leave.<br />
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11. But seriously though, the food.<br />
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Empanadas and chilaquiles and sopes and posole and tacos and beans and quesadillas and enfrijoles and that weird cheese from Oaxaca and MOLE ROJO and all the pollo and homemade guacamole and gorditas and enchiladas and pastor and just all the food love.</div>
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12. Happiness isn't determined by your bank balance, but what you do with what you have.<br />
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This is the class that Adriana teaches in one of the rural communities in the hills around San Cris. The areas and villages that these children and their families come from are far from the wealthiest, and yet they were some of the happiest and smilyest people I've met. I could give countless examples, but out here, it's the simple things that make people happy, and despite the many elements of development that still need to take place within society, I've met very few Mexicans who aren't happy with what they've got or don't know how to make the most out of a difficult situation.<br />
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13. The rich and diverse culture.<br />
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I'm a little ashamed to say I knew next to nothing about Mexican culture or history before I came here, aside from the fact that everyone owns a sombrero and speaks like Speedy Gonzalez. But there is an impossible amount to experience here, from the familiar capitalist culture of the big cities (of course with a Mexican twist) to indigenous communities that are scattered throughout the entire country, which all have their own traditions and languages and ways of life.<br />
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14. Chiapas, or more specifically, San Cris, completely stole my heart.<br />
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It's now a running joke that all my stories and all the people I have met here come from San Cris, because I spent so much time there and just can't seem to stop going on about it. I will be writing about it soon, but until then just know that it is a must visit. So add it to your bucket list and if you're ever in the town, stop by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/casacaracolhostel?fref=ts">Casa Caracol</a> and give my best to Juan.<br />
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15. Waterfalls.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">16. '<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.22222328186035px;">Ma</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.22222328186035px;">ñana, ma</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.22222328186035px;">ñana' and 'horita'.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20.22222328186035px;">Stress? Worry? Rush? I think I've forgotten the meaning of the words. The above roughly translates to, 'There's always tomorrow' and, 'I'll do that/be there in a little while, but really what I mean is somewhere between 10 minutes and 2 days. Your guess is as good as mine to be honest.'</span></span><br />
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17. Meal times are for more than just eating.<br />
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Although I'm still finding it difficult to get used to the HUGE breakfast thing they've got going on here, I love how meal times are used as a social time with family and friends. The culture of wolf-it-down-as-quick-as-humanly-possible just simply doesn't exist. Where as back home, social food consuming time is usually reserved for special occasions and the like, here every meal is a sit down, hang out, phones away ordeal and can last hours with no-one itching to rush off or find something better to do.<br />
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18. A cawama (about 1 litre of beer) costs £1. ONE ENGLISH POUND. My liver hates me.</div>
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19. Riding in the back of pick-up trucks.<br />
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...on roads with 100ft drops on either side, with no seat belts. Ok that was just once, but everyother time I've done it it's be entirely invigorating, especially after a day of hitch-hiking in the scorching heat.</div>
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20. Mexicans are literally the most welcoming people in the world.</div>
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I have never visited another country and felt so immediately at home and welcome. I can't count the amount of people that have told me, 'Our doors our open whenever you want', 'If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask' and, 'You're always welcome here'. In the above picture my friend Shelly is adding to a wall in a hostel I lived in for some time, which simply states 'My house is your house' in lots of different languages, painted on by the people who have stayed there.<br />
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21. The incredible people I have met/had the opportunity to revisit.<br />
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I could compliment you all until the cows come home, but really I just want to say thank-you for everything and I'm so glad that the adventure is far from over.<br />
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22. I have learned so much about myself.<br />
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Looking back over the last three and a half months, it's crazy to think that for one reason or another, I nearly didn't do my year abroad. I mean everything was pretty much planned out; I was to go straight to fourth year, I'd picked out all my modules, I knew where I was going to live and life seemed stable and good and safe. And now, I suppose due to my 'fuck it, let's just go for it' attitude, I'm now here. Like I actually LIVE in Mexico. I have done and seen so so much and have met some of the most beautiful people to have ever existed, and the best part is, it's only just beginning. University only started a month ago, and when I think back over everything I've done since arriving in Mexico, it seems unreal.<br />
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I feel so incredibly lucky to have been give this opportunity and without sounding too big-headed, am so unbelievably proud of myself for taking it. Travel is about so much more than just looking at some pretty views and getting shit-faced at party hostels (though both of those can be great fun), it's about discovering more of what the world has to offer and in turn, uncovering parts of yourself that you had no idea existed. Every time I travel and meet new people, I can feel myself not only become more knowledgeable and worldly, but also a much stronger and well-rounded person. The more I see, the more I want to see and Mexico has been one of the countries that has driven my thirst for life to a whole new level. </div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-33738912437665690142014-08-26T15:17:00.000-05:002014-08-26T15:25:50.858-05:00ALS Ice Bucket ChallengeYes, it finally happened. A couple of days ago my friend nominated me for the Ice Bucket Challenge on Facebook, and me much obliging to do anything for a good cause decided to hop right to it (I'm aware you're supposed to do it within 24 hours but time difference, living in a block of flats and not having a computer made it a bit difficult!)<br />
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I did the challenge at an English dinner party that a couple of my travel friends and I were hosting, and originally I was going to try and combine the whole thing into a vlog of some sort. However, I ended up having an conversation during the night that made me decide to write a little bit about the challenge itself, rather than focusing on the evening.</div>
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First off, I freely admit that I didn't actually know what charity the challenge was for at first. I'd seen it explained on some YouTube Channel a few weeks before but I couldn't really remember properly because I thought it was just some celebrity thing rather than something for us common folk to participate in too, plus if you know me by now, you'll know just how awful my memory is. So when somebody asked me the other night what I was doing it for, I stuttered at a guess of a Leukaemia charity, because I mean there's an 'L' in the title and that's often a well supported charity and after the whole Breast Cancer 'No Make-Up Selfie' it kind of made sense. <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.294118);">Obviously this went on to cause a variety of different reaction from the people who heard; laughter, 'oh Emily' accompanied by a head shake and abuse about first world privilege... As you can imagine, that last one didn't go down so well.</span></div>
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*<i>I'd just like to point out here that ALS is actually the American term for Motor Neutron Disease (MND), as we call it in the UK, so I wasn't just being stupid, we just have a different name for it*</i></div>
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Now I'm aware that doing something for a charity when you have no idea what you're supporting might sound like the stupidest thing ever. And on a personal level, I agree. I always want to know who or what I'm supporting, where my money is going and how it's going to work. After years and years of volunteering in the charity sector and spending my entire life fundraising for a various array of different causes, I'm not one to lightly send my money off without knowing where it's going. Of course I know I should have researched what the meaning behind the challenge was all about before agreeing to have ice water dumped on my head, but if I'm honest, I trusted that some of my closest friends had taken part in the challenge as well as some huge celebrities, and that they weren't stupid enough to donate some evil no-good cause.</div>
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I suppose it's easy for me to say now that I was always going to look it up, I would never have uploaded it if I didn't agree with the cause etc etc. and if you don't want to believe me that's fine. What I really want to say about all this is that regardless of whether I was blindly following trend or doing my bit because the cause is something that is really close to my heart, the important focus here is that this disease and this charity has received recognition from this silly challenge above and beyond anything anyone could have anticipated. Speaking on behalf of those who are particularly passionate about doing whatever they can for those in need, we need those people who just want to join in for a bit of a laugh, make a one off donation or simply want to make a fool of their friends to make things like this spread like wildfire.You know, the kind of people that give money to the homeless on the street just because they feel particularly generous that day, the ones who put their change in the charity box on the shop counter regardless of the cause and got stuck into ice bucket challenge without really knowing what it's all about. Those people are so so important, because whilst it's impossible to know about and understand every good cause that is out there, it isn't impossible to take five minutes out of your day to support them every once in a while.</div>
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So be as cynical as you like and frown upon all the people who are doing a good thing for a good cause whilst having fun at the same time, but at the end of the day an incredibly positive thing sweeping the Internet in this day and age amongst the wars, injustice and corruption of the world is hardly something to be ashamed of being a part of. A single person can only do so much alone, but when everybody joins together, that's when the real change starts to happen, and I for one want to do whatever I can, stupid freezing ice water challenge and all.<br />
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-24226914169018286912014-08-11T21:32:00.003-05:002014-08-11T21:38:06.949-05:00LANGUAGE RANT<div>
*DISCLAIMER, NO MATTER HOW WHINEY I SOUND IN THE POST I AM SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THIS AMAZING OPPORTUNITY I HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND AM NOT AT ALL TAKING IT FOR GRANTED. I'M JUST SCARED AND NEED TO VENT. OK? OK.*</div>
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Once again I've managed to leave a significant amount of time between blog posts whilst ONE MILLION AND ONE things have been happening, so now I have insane amounts to write about and literally no idea where to start. Well actually that's a lie, because I've decided to start with the present day and eventually work my way backwards through all the exciting things that have been happening to me during my accidental month hiatus, which include but are not limited to:<br />
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Living in the COOLEST hostel in San Cris.</div>
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Hitchhiking to Agua Azul and Palenque.</div>
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Crawling through caves.</div>
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Climbing waterfalls.</div>
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A two day house party.</div>
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And meeting some of the most awesome people who have ever existed (this applies to all of the above!!)</div>
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But for now, I'm going to have a therapeutic rant about the fact that I am starting university in TWO DAYS. Actually on Wednesday, meaning that that it is less that two official days. And it is safe to say that I am absolutely bloody terrified and utterly unprepared. And no, I am not writing that in order to gain sympathy and 'I bet you'll be fine' pats on the back, I really am so unprepared and not ready, that I actually keep having to laugh to myself about it so I don't start to cry.</div>
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For those of you who don't know, when you study languages in the UK the third year of your studies is spent abroad in a country (or countries) where the language(s) you study is/are the native language. For me, as I study German and Spanish, I chose Germany and Mexico, with my first term being spent studying at UNAM in Mexico City and my second term at Humboldt in Berlin. Which all sounds rather wonderful, until you consider that ALL of the classes are taught in the native language. All of them. Every single one.</div>
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"Well duh Emily, what did you expect? You are studying a language degree after all!", I hear you cry.</div>
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Well.... yes. I know. </div>
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And knowing this information, any sensible person would have been trying to vigorously prepare themselves for months on end, with lots of grammar revision and intense speaking practise, where as I decided to travel around Mexico, attempting get over my social anxiety of speaking foreign languages to foreign people. Which I can proudly say, I finally did *hooray!*. However, although now I'm not so scared about actually talking to people, I have very minimal understanding of academic Spanish at all, plus the idea of having to speak in front of a group of people in a classroom literally frightens me to death. PLUS if I'm being totally honest, the amount of time I've spent intensely speaking solely Spanish and not Spanglish is pretty minimal. So as you can imagine, the idea of spending entire days of my life in a classroom, where next to no one speaks a word of English and participation is considered a key part of my overall grade is pretty darn scary.</div>
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The annoying part of this whole thing is that I am super keen to learn and improve and attempt to become a proper Mexican, but depending on my level anxiety on any given day my ability to actually show this interest could range from anywhere between 'I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD COME AT ME MEXICO' to 'please, literally, no one talk to me, or I might spontaneously combust'. Luckily, I very rarely hit the extremes, but you get the idea.</div>
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The positive side of all this, however, is that after travelling for just over two and a half months, the concept of a routine and actually having a base camp has become quite appealing to me. It's been nice to finally settle down in my own place (which just happens to be a penthouse flat overlooking a park... having a friend who's sisters live in DF has proved insanely beneficial), and finally unpack my backpack so I actually have a feeling of permanence about my stay now. Though at first it was a tad strange sleeping in a room by myself after so long in dorm rooms and after unpacking I discovered I'd hardly brought anything with me. Oops. Anyway it's so awesome that I'm getting to live abroad for the first time, because it's kind of like constantly travelling, but you have your own house so you don't have to carry all your shit with you wherever you go.</div>
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I'm not really sure where I was going with this post, but I felt it really was about time I wrote something. I promise next time I'll write about something more interesting, like how I eventually sorted my status as an accident illegal immigrant or how the first time I ever went hitchhiking happened to be on one of the most dangerous and difficult roads to hitchhike on in Mexico (y).</div>
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Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-70737280300222183152014-07-10T09:51:00.002-05:002014-07-10T09:51:34.078-05:00Camping in The CloudsI survived my first journey as a lone traveller safe and sound, and arrived in San Cristobal after a very uneventful night bus from Oaxaca. Saying farewell to Greg proved harder than I thought it would, not only because we'd got on so well and had such a great trip, but also because he was my last piece of England out here; the last piece of England that I am going to see for at least six months. So I got a little teary and he got a little awkward, but all in all I think I kept it together pretty well until I got onto the bus and could bury my face in my double chocolate chip cookie. Never down play the benefits of comfort eating.<br />
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In San Cristobal, however, I was quickly comforted as I was met by the beautiful chica, Adriana, one of my closest friends from my first term of university who I haven't seen since she returned home from her exchange last January. In true Em style, I was rather animated about the ordeal and was so, so excited to catch up on all the gossip of the past year and a half. I've said it before, but finding little pieces of home away from home all over the world really is one of the joys of traveling. For me, home isn't necessarily a fixed place, but instead it's a feeling you find inside any person you love and feel comfortable with. It's those little perks that make these adventures so addictive.<br />
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Adriana took this just after I arrived.</div>
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I stayed just one night at Adriana's house before we set off for the jungle the next day. Adriana and Manu (her boyfriend) had picked a place for us to camp in the heart of the jungle called Las Nubes, which required around four and a half hours in various modes of transport to get there. In the morning Adriana and I had been teaching an English class in a rural community about a hour and a half drive form the city, which meant we were in a bit of a rush, and by the time we'd finished a quick lunch of roast chicken (priorities!) we were already setting off pretty late. It turns out this would then cause the start of our adventure to begin long before we arrived at our destination campsite.<br />
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We were about 10km when we arrived in a rural community near Las Nubes in the dark, with little money and no means to get to our destination due to the only connecting bridge being under construction. We had been kicked off the bus by the driver who told us that 'el puente' (the bridge), wasn't far away. LIES. We ended up having to negotiate with a family of locals, who tried to extort us for all we were worth for a lift either to Las Nubes or the bridge. We even debated staying in a room that they offered to rent us for the night, but in the end, due to a combination of mistrust and Manu's expertise on all things nature related, we decided to risk getting a lift to the bridge, camp out there for the night and carry on the next day. So we jumped in the back of the 'helpful' family's pick up truck (for the fee of 100 pesos) and were off.<br />
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Although by this point I was exhausted, rather scared and pissed at the situation, there is still very little that compares to the feeling of riding in the back of a pick-up truck after a long day, the warm rainforest air suddenly de-sticking your sweaty clothes from your back and making you feel alive again. Just don't open your mouth... I learned that the hard way.<br />
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We spent the night by the river, the extremes of the intense humidity and pounding rain each preventing the other from driving me completely insane. I've come to find that Mexico is a very extreme kind of place in many aspects, be it the weather or the people. It's taking a little getting used to.</div>
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Everything seems so much less sinister in the light. Turns out our camping spot was pretty beautiful once the sun rose.</div>
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The next morning we got ready pretty sharpish as the night watchman of the bridge has offered to give us a ride to Las Nubes when his shift finished in the early hours. So another pick-up truck ride and a short walk later, we arrived, tired and drenched in sweat, but (for me, at least) utterly relieved. It's not that I didn't enjoy our first night camping, it was just nice to finally feel safe again and I think the feelings of uncertainty are always perpetuated in an unfamiliar setting (such as being in another continent, on the other side of the world, in the jungle...)<br />
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Staying in Las Nubes was a really relaxing time. We swam and slept and explored and I had a lot of time for writing which is always lovely. We ate fresh mangos from the trees (Adriana told me that mangos here are like a religion; I'm totally converted) and bought beans from a little old lady down the road who thought we were nuts for coming out here with so little money and food, and at night time I lay in a sea of fireflies staring at the clearst sky I've seen in a very long time. I think it's all too easy to forget how breath-taking the stars can be.<br />
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There wasn't much space for swimming because the current was so strong and the rapids were crazy, so we made the most of a little area by the campsite which was sheltered by trees. It was pretty incredible to have the place to ourselves.</div>
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I can't tell you how happy I am that we had Manu as a guide through the woods, because there is no way we would have been able to find our way in and out alone!</div>
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Yes mum, I actually cooked! The guys at the campsite were really confused when we turned down food because we has our own and asked if we were vegetarians... We obviously looked like the crazy hippy traveler types.</div>
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Las Nubes is famous for it's waterfalls, and there is no debate as to why. Walking through the forest alongside the river, you can see exactly just how dramatic these falls are, with huge rapids and twenty foot drops appearing almost from no where, weaving in and out of a valley carved through the dense greenary. There's a walk of just less than a kilometer that you can take up to a mirador (look-out point), from which you can see just how vast these rapid and waterfalls become once they escape the forest.</div>
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View from our campsite.</div>
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From on top of the mirador. As always things never look quite as good in pictures, but man it was stunning.</div>
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Our third adventure of our three day trip began when the time finally came to go home. Unfortunately we'd severely underestimated the amount of money we'd need to get back and I'd some how managed to lose 100 pesos, meaning that we had to walk much of the 6km walk back to the bridge. On an average day 6km would be nothing to me, but with all the camping gear, lack of food/water and the serious heat, it was proving a bit more of a challenge. Luckily, a family on their way to the next town picked us up and took us most of the way, and in that moment I've never wanted to hug someone so much. So after trundling along in a car with seven people, but built for five, that had almost no windows or seatbelts (pretty much no-one uses seat belts here) and a short walk and another combi ride, we reached the bridge, to catch another combi to Comitan (about three hours away), where we caught our final hour long combi ride back to San Cris. Journey's like this are really common out here and I actually quite enjoy the fact that no-one really seems to be in a rush to get anywhere. It's qutie refreshing to take the pace down a few pegs from London.</div>
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So we made it home, safe and sound. I showered, we ate some delicious quesadillas at a really cool place down the road and then slept for about a bazillion hours. And aside from the GIANORMOUS bug bites I'd received, we'd done it all pretty much unscathed too.</div>
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I'm not sure how well you can make that out, but that bite was basically the size of my entire thigh (bigger than my hand). We spectulated a lot, possibly a spider or a really nasty ant, but basically, I'm just very allergic to tropical bugs.</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-24697399174016502572014-07-01T15:44:00.000-05:002014-07-01T15:44:26.977-05:00Oaxaca, OaxacaThis blog post is named in honour of the man who roamed around the city playing his guitar singing his own song called, 'Oaxaca, Oaxaca', whilst trying to sell his CD. I wish to commemorate his efforts and determination, due to the fact that the song contained only one repeated chord and only one phrase, which was indeed, 'Oaxaca, Oaxaca'. Bless him.<br />
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I'm aware that it has been a little while since I last wrote. Since my last detailed post, Greg and I have parted ways (sad face) and I have been living in and exploring San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. It's been a rather crazy week and a bit and there's still a bit left to tell from Oaxaca, so there's going to be a fair amount of writing coming your way in the next few days.<br />
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After a few days in Oaxaca, it became clear to Greg and I that due to Greg's flight in Cancún, it wouldn't be possible for us to stick to our original plan, so as I posted at the time, we decided to stay an extra few days in Oaxaca before parting ways. We decided, therefore, to visit some of the touristy sights ourselves without taking a tour (as we originally intended), simply because we share the opinion that you get a much better experience that way, plus you can take as long as you want and it generally ends up costing less.<br />
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After Monte Albán we decided to visit a big tree in a place called Tule that we'd heard a lot of people talking about. Now I'm aware that doesn't sound terribly exciting and in all honesty, it wasn't, but considering it cost us very little for transport and entry (entrance was 50p, so really we couldn't complain) and it could potentially be the oldest known tree in the world, I didn't feel too disappointed. I mean, although it was just a tree, it was a really flipping impressive tree. We also had fun reading the translations of '<span style="font-size: small;"> Está prohibido cortar las ramas del árbol'</span> (it's forbidden to cut the branches of the tree) written around the tree in French 'Il est interdit de couper les', English 'Forbidden, branches of thee tree', and what we could only guess was meant to be Japanese.<br />
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Árbol del Tule</div>
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Our next trip was supposed to be to 'Hierve el Agua' which literally means, 'the water boils', ironic considering their also known as 'the frozen waterfalls'. However, the night before Greg and a friend Dave who we met in our hostel dorm, decided to try and determine who was the most hardened drinker over a few games of cards, and Greg ended up consuming so much tequila that the sheer idea of movement made him want to be sick, so he gave me his blessing to head off with Dave, whilst he stayed in bed. We had quite the adventure to get there, as we had to take a shared taxi for the first half of the journey, which involved me sitting on Dave's knee in the front seat of a taxi without a back or passenger seat window, and then changing in the the town Mitlan (about an hour later) to the back of the pick up truck for the next hour or so. All of which are completely legal in Mexico?!<br />
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All the safety...</div>
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It turns out that the falls are actually formed by natural gisers of water flowing over the mountain sides for centuries, which have hardened into some kind of rock formation (I'm not much of a geography student!) and due to all the different shades and colours of the mierals, it looks like frozen waterfalls. On the top of the waterfalls, the gisers have formed natural infinity pools, which are pretty darn cold, but provide an amazing view of the surrounding mountain ranges and greenery. In short, it's an absolutely stunning place.<br />
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In this picture, I'm swimming in the infinity pool on top of the 'waterfall' in the next picture. </div>
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View from the facing waterfall.</div>
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The whole area is situated in a huge mountain range. You could literally see for miles and it was a bloody long way down.</div>
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When we eventually managed to tear ourselves away, we discovered that we had to head back via a different route. Basically, the two villages next to Hierve el Agua have had some kind of fall out, which meant that the residents from each can't pass through the other one, even when driving tourists through. So instead of taking a much more direct route back, we had to take a windy road over a huge mountain, still in the back of a pick up truck. Scenic, yes, but potentially life threatening as well.</div>
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Quite possibly the most Mexican picture I've ever taken. All that's missing is their owner in a sombero, who I just missed out of the shot. Hanging on for dear life and photography are two difficult skills to combine.</div>
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We intended to spend our last day simply chilling out, watching some football and eating lots of Mole, however as things tend to go with me, we weren't quite able to stick to the plan. It turns out that when we crossed the border at Tijuana, we were supposed to receive tourist papers, that in order to legally be in the country, we were supposed to carry with us at all times, which we weren't given. Not only that, but the woman didn't even check our passports, so we had no stamps, thus no evidence to prove when exactly we had entered the country. Greg had been briefly checking out some stuff for his flight when all this information came to light, and we figured that we better take a trip to the immagration office, because we were basically illegal immigrants. Seriously, how does one accidentally enter into a country illegally, that is free to enter and not realise for nearly a month? </div>
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Anyway it turned out we didn't really have much to worry about, because Mexicans being Mexicans, although a little confused at how we'd managed to get ourselves into such a ridiculous situation, were really chill about the whole thing and gave us information on what to do. And although I am yet to cross the border at Guatemala and return to Mexico to get some proper documentation, Greg has already made it home fine and dandy, so thank goodness for that! I'll hopefully be getting around to sorting out my stuff at some point this week, I'll just have to try my best not to get arrested between now and then, because deportation a month before I begin my studies would be rather inconvenient.</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-30930122301941758652014-06-18T09:16:00.001-05:002014-06-18T09:16:47.829-05:00Change of PlanFunny story kids... Instead of parting ways in just over a week, Greg and I will now be parting ways TOMORROW. Scary stuff.<div><br></div><div>Basically, it turns out that getting from San Cristobal to Cancún takes a really long time, so for the sake of not wasting too many days, Greg has decided to head back to Mexico City to fly to Cancún from there, whilst I'll head on to stay with my friend in Chiapas. It freaked me out a tiiiiiiny bit, just because I hadn't quite mentally prepared myself for being alone in Mexico yet (by alone I mean without anyone from the UK) and I'm a bit nervous about having to start using Spanish full time. Plus saying goodbyes are always rubbish.</div><div><br></div><div>However, we're hoping to end our trip in the right way tonight with some Mezcal and drinking games, in the usual travellers fashion. And for our last day trip? Some frozen waterfalls in a village a couple hours away from here. Not too shabby eh?</div>Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0Cielo Rojo Hostal Xicoténcatl 121, Centro, Oaxaca17.060412 -96.720632tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-40078361978379902442014-06-15T23:19:00.001-05:002014-07-01T14:24:25.601-05:00Mole and Mezcal<div>
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Yesterday, we arrived in our third to last destination of the trip, Oaxaca (pronounced Wahaca, like that yummy Mexican restaurant in London). It's an incredibly beautiful city, which is clearly popular with tourists from all over the place, as there is a hostel or hotel on just about every street corner. It's another colonial looking city, this time with all the buildings painted funky bold colours, and in true Mexican style, there are plenty of quaint yet rather impressive looking churches dotted around. Even the somewhat dilapidated ones manage to boast their own unique sort of beauty.<br />
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As always on our first day in a new city, we just set off exploring, the map under our noses and cameras in hand. It's not a particularly big place, so it didn't take us too long to get around and we had plenty of time to explore the markets. We ate an amazing lunch of chicken enchiladas and mole; mole being the famous sauce from this region. I don't exactly know what it's made out of - just spices and things I assume - but I had the red one today and it was GORGEOUS. There are seven different types so I'm on a mission to try as many as possible before we leave.</div>
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We also decided to try out some of the local liquors, the most famous being mezcal. I confess I'm yet to give it a go as its quite a strong one (from the smell it seems a bit like tequila or ouzo) but Greg seemed to enjoy it so much that he bought a bottle to take home, whilst I treated myself to a bottle of chocolate-mint creme liquor for just £1! It was super yummy too.</div>
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Later in the evening we headed out to a restaurant on the Zocalo (the main square) for some food and to watch the Argentine vs Bosnia game. I SO wanted Bosnia to win it too, but at least they put up a good fight! We were also lucky enough to catch a lightning storm from the roof of our hostel, which was pretty damn epic.</div>
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<u>16/06/2014</u></div>
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We decided to spend today visiting another archeological sight called Monte Albán, just a 20 minute bus journey from the city centre. It is in an absolutely stunning location, high up on a mountain top with incredible 360 degree panoramic views. The site isn't as big as Teotihuacan so doesn't take as long to explore, but in my opinion, is just as much fun to look around. I'd seriously recommend a visit, it is a truly beautiful place.</div>
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We compared leg tans whilst taking the rest at the top of some high steps... I think I have a special gift of being the palest person EVER.</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-88845871808312565322014-06-13T14:16:00.001-05:002014-07-01T14:23:53.862-05:00A Week in Mexico CityThe last week in Mexico City has been really mad! Unlike us, my friend Edgar is super organised, so with his help we managed to pack a lot into just a few days.<br />
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<u>Chapultepec Castle</u></div>
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The castle is at the top of a big hill in the middle of a forest overlooking the city, which makes for beautiful, if not a little smoggy, views over the greenery and the city. Inside you can see the museum which documents much of modern Mexican history and also contains preserved rooms of how the castle would have looked whilst it still served as a home.</div>
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<u>The Zoo</u></div>
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Yes we went to another zoo! This time is was FREE and although not as big (or as lax on safety) as Guadalajara, they do have pandas which is awesome. Also quite a lot of the animals weren't actually there, a little odd perhaps but we figured maybe they'd just gone on their summer jollies.</div>
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<u>Street Performers</u></div>
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I'm not sure how well you can make it out in this picture but in short, these guys are mental. They climb a 30ft (ish) pole with no harnesses or anything, tie themselves to it the swing around it in circles until they reach the bottom, WHILST playing music... It was both a bizarre and terrifying experience. </div>
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<u>The Anthropology Museum</u></div>
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If I'm honest, when Edgar told us that the anthropology museum was a must I was a little skeptical about what could be so great about it. However it turns out that it's actually pretty impressive, with all sorts of Mayan and Aztec etc artifects and a really detailed description of those periods in Mexican history, which for me as a history geek is super cool.</div>
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<u>The Angel of Independence</u></div>
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This monument is literally right in the middle of a roundabout with no crossings and about six lanes, so you have to either get a taxi or run for your life to get there. Oh and also, Mexican roundabouts don't just go one way... Safe to say we decided to just appreciate it from afar.</div>
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<u>Teotihuacan</u></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">On Wednesday we decided to be really touristy and headed to the ruins at Teotihuacan. It really is an incredible sight, with pyramids which are so old that nobody actually knows who originally built them or settled there. It's pretty hard to climb too, especially as we're a clumsy asthmatic and a cripple with vertigo. We survived though!</span></div>
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<u>Frida Kahlo Museum</u></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">On thursday, we spent the day exploring Coyacan. We started out by visiting the Frida Kahlo museum, which despite my lack of knowledge about her, turned out to be really interesting. The entrance fee for students was just $40 (£2) and the museum is actually situated inside her house, in which she was born, lived and died. Part of the exhibit is home to some of her works of art, another part her house left as it was, so you could really get a sense of how she and Diego Rivera lived.</span></div>
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<u>Hanging Out</u></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SlhC-bnAFHaxu277GMoBY5kSQFmftqHRloPgnVojtUL-wgB0ADl7TZYnulF3Wk7zI_LY2v9cZAMgeP6TaLmFonM94T65GVpIrX23h8ogj7MkXWNmN-x_YPLzTrPE7qwmEQBfWXhXbipW/s640/blogger-image-386871001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SlhC-bnAFHaxu277GMoBY5kSQFmftqHRloPgnVojtUL-wgB0ADl7TZYnulF3Wk7zI_LY2v9cZAMgeP6TaLmFonM94T65GVpIrX23h8ogj7MkXWNmN-x_YPLzTrPE7qwmEQBfWXhXbipW/s320/blogger-image-386871001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">That afternoon we met up with some of Edgar's friends for some tacos, beer and football, because (as you're probably aware) it was the first World Cup match between Brazil and Croatia. We watched the game at his friend Frank's house, then headed off to our friend Sofia's sister's place to chill on the roof, before heading out to her brother's pox bar (pox is a special type of spirit from the Chiapas region).</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So yesterday was supposed to be the day we left Mexico City for Oaxaca, just six hours south of here. However, after a standard burrito lunch and a few days of not feeling so great, sickness finally hit me and we decided not to risk the venture until (hopefully!) today. In the evening some of Edgar's friends came round, so I forced myself downstairs to be social. They told me that locally they call my illness 'Moctezuma's Revenge', Moctezuma being the last Aztec ruler before the conquistadors came and took over, as it only really affects tourists, especially white Europeans. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Despite my delicate state it turned out to be quite a fun evening, and I think I'm beginning to understand Mexican Spanish better... I also, after much faffing, managed to stomach one of the table snacks which was a bowl full of crickets. I feel like I should try everything once, and to be honest they didn't taste all that bad, but I don't think I'll be doing it again anytime soon!</span></div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-37926686196173886542014-06-11T09:40:00.001-05:002014-07-01T14:22:37.337-05:00My New Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
You'll be happy (and some of you somewhat relieved) to know that I LOVE Mexico City. I won't lie, I'm not a huge fan of the north of Mexico, solely for the heat factor mind you, and I was starting to doubt whether I'd be able to manage living in this country for 8+ months. It turns out however, that Mexico City is much cooler, due to its high altitude and *insert other clever geographical sounding terms here*. Funnily enough, after my minor struggles in Peru and Bolivia with altitude sickness, I hardly even noticed it this time round, despite being over 2,000 metres up (good ol' Wikipedia).</div>
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We're currently staying with my friend Edgar, <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">who is one of four Mexican friends I made in my first term at university as they were on exchange to King's. It's so cool to be able to see him again and catch up!! Especially now the tables have turned and I'm visiting his home country. He lives in an area called Xochillico, which is about an hour metro ride from the city centre and like the total babe he is, has offered to let me stay here until I find my own place to live.</span></div>
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In true travelling fashion, we spent our first day wandering around the city centre, visiting all the big land marks and tourist sights. One thing I wasn't prepared for is the sheer size of the city; it's SO BIG. Unlike London, there is breathing room in between buildings, as well as huge empty plazas and spacious parks to walk through. It is also clear that Mexicans are very proud of being Mexican, because almost every monument, official building and pub is adorned with one or more national flag (this could arguably be a world cup thing, but I do get the sense that this national pride goes beyond football). Unfortunately my camera decided to take the day off so the pictures aren't the best.</div>
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Close up of the front of the Cathedral.</div>
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Rather sinister-looking shot of the whole thing. I think you can still make out the grandeur though.</div>
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Palacio de Bellas Artes, super posh inside. According to Greg it's 1940's style Art Deco.</div>
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All the Mexican pride!</div>
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We also stumbled upon a tequila museum, which we decided not to venture into - how fun can a tequila museum be without tasters? However the gift shop was cool, with literally 100s of types of tequila covering the walls, which made me feel a little like a bull in a china shop. Luckily my clumsy nature took a back seat for the afternoon and disaster was averted.</div>
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I've never seen Greg's eyes light up like they did when he was surrounded by tequila.</div>
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The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring more of the cities monuments, which is much more interesting when you know some of the background stories behind them (thankyouverymuch Edgar!). We also decided to take a trip to the 'Ciudadela', a traditional and rather touristy market to buy souvenirs and presents for people back home.</div>
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Rainbow flag crosswalk outside the Museum of Equality :D</div>
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Monumento a la Revolución.</div>
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I'm annoyed that this is blurry, but you can see some of the funky hand-made pottery.</div>
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In the evening we headed back to meet Edgar, who took us to a small town called 'Tlalpan' (I think/hope!) for the evening to grab some food and yummy Mexican beer. <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">The area was really pretty, with a central park and a small bandstand, surrounded by beautiful purplely-blue lighting.</span></div>
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Naturally, we seized the opportunity to take a boyband shot.</div>
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Aside from the fact that the waitress didn't understand me when I asked for 'una cerveza', and laughed at me, it was a wonderful day and really exciting to explore my new home. And, I mean, lI have loads of time to get into Spanish before I start uni in a month and a half... Right?!<br />
<br />Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-49360806782436229682014-06-09T20:18:00.001-05:002014-07-01T14:20:51.708-05:00Breakfast Beers and Gay GiraffesWe spent just three nights in Guadalajara, but could have easily made it a week. For a city that didn't get the highest recommendations or write ups, we really enjoyed our stay there! Perhaps locals don't like to recommend such a touristy city, we're not really sure.<br />
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Most of our time was spent exploring the city centre and enjoying the local cuisine i.e. Tacos and Mexican beer.</div>
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Breakfast beers!</div>
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My first real Mexican tacos, yuuummy.</div>
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There's loads of stunning, colonial architecture to see, as well as quirky street art and sculptures. It's quite the city for travellers who don't really want to spend money, as most of the things to see are free and the museums cost mere pennies to get into. </div>
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Giant squids just outside the university.</div>
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Loved this piece of street art, I'll upload a better picture when I get my camera photos online.</div>
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Mammoth skeleton in the Museo Regional de Guadalajara!!</div>
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On our last day we decided to take a trip to the zoo, which was A-MAY-ZING. Health and safety over here really isn't like back home; basically the logic is dont be an idiot and you'll be fine. This means that you can do loads of cool stuff like go into an open monkey enclosure and have them climb all over you, or stroke a giraffe over the fence of its enclosure (which was especially cool for me as they are my favourite!!) I would definitely recommend a visit to the zoo if you are ever in Guadalajara, it's just 7 pesos (35p) on the bus and standard entry is 95 pesos (£5) and it's the biggest in Latin America!</div>
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Greg's new monkey friend trying to steal his juice.</div>
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I LEGIT FED A GIRAFFE IT WAS AWESOME.</div>
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On the last night we also stumbled upon a huge celebration in the square on our way home, which turned out to be Guadalajara Pride! We didn't really hang about because we were so exhausted from our day at the zoo, but I was really moved to see such incredible support for the gay community in a country which I was warned may not be so tolerant. It was a really beautiful scene to see all ages, sexualities and gender identities just hanging out together and having fun, without even batting an eyelid. This country grows on me more and more everyday.</div>
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We're now in Mexico City (my new home for the year!!) and staying with a friend of mine from my first year at university :D</div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-14904608044946160342014-06-05T21:17:00.001-05:002014-09-09T09:56:37.548-05:00Sonora, Sinaloa and JaliscoThree things I've learned about North Mexico:<br />
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1. It's really hot.</div>
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2. Mexicans are the craziest drivers maybe ever.</div>
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3. It's really really hot.<br />
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Exhibit A: Heat makes Emily sad. No I'm not sweating, I ran through a fountain to cool down.</div>
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Since my last post we've moved through two more Mexican states, from Sonora, through Sinaloa and now were in Jalisco. Luckily for us it's slowly getting cooler and cooler, because (I promise this is the last time I'll say it) it was SO hot, and Emily doesn't thrive well in 47*C. In fact today it rained and I got so excited I ran out in my shorts and t-shirt to soak it all up.</div>
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Compare the unmistakable glee with Exhibit A above to understand the extent of my joy.</div>
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Our first destination after Hermosillo was Los Mochis, a place we were warned not to visit a little too late, as we were already en route. Apparently we were heading to the centre of narco country, which basically means drug cartels and very few tourists. This is partially the reason why I haven't blogged for a couple of days, as I didn't want to worry anybody, so decided to only reveal our whereabouts after we'd left, safe and sound. Mum and Josie, please don't kill me :D</div>
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We actually found Los Mochis to relatively pleasant; true there wasn't much to do, but our hotel was really nice and cheap, and we just wanted to chill out for a couple of days. If you're ever in the area, check out Hotel Fénix, just $545 per night for a twin double bedroom, en suite, TV and room service. That's only £14 for a cockroach free room, which we were happy to find after our<i> </i>not-so-cockroach-free room in Hermosillo. This also allowed us a night in with our first taste of real life Mexican tequila, which Greg loved perhaps a little toooo much. </div>
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Most people tend to use the city as a stop over for the Copper Canyon railway that runs from there to Chihuahua, but due to time and money constraints we decided to give that a miss. Instead, we did our usual meander around before heading to the botanical gardens. Considering there is nothing listed under Los Mochis at all in the Lonely Planet guide, we were pleasantly surprised by the place. The town was small, mostly just shops and school kids but nice enough, and the gardens were really beautiful. Two nights is probably quite a long time to be there but I don't think it deserves all the bad rep it seems to have accumulated.</div>
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Arty pictures in the gardens.</div>
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I reeeeeally wanted to climb this but I've become considerably more clumsy in my old age.</div>
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The flowers there were really something else.</div>
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Self-timer photo of us being big kids on the swings. I have dirty knees and everything.</div>
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After a 13 hour bus drive - may I just interrupt that it was actually 13 hours, as in the bus company told the TRUTH, a first for my adventures anywhere in Latin America. I was amazed honestly. Anyway, after 13 hours we arrived in Guadalajara, which funnily enough, is another city we'd been told 'wasn't worth a visit'. However we've ended up here, not because I was just being stubborn and doing the opposite of what I was told, but in fact we didn't really have much choice as it is on our route to Mexico City and we didn't fancy doing the 26 hours all in one go.</div>
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Fortunately, we have again been surprised by just how lovely it is here. More so than Los Mochis, as it is Mexico's 'second city' and contains so much history and lovely architecture. Really we are very confused about why people be hating on so much of North Mexico (if this still counts as north? I think it does...)</div>
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This evening we're taking it easy with a couple of games of cards after a lots of walking and the bus journey. We'll probably stay here a few days then it's off to Mexico City where I finally get to reunite with my old friend Edgar from my first term of university. I'm so excited I might burst.</div>
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Greg doesn't like to lose...</div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So far it's been a great trip, but not without it's minor hiccups. Unfortunately about two days ago I started to get really down about being away from home; I </span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">think it finally dawned on me that I was going to be living in this completely alien country for the best part of the year. Of course I am excited for everything this year is going to bring, but no one said it was going to be easy. What terrifies me the most aside from the fact that I reeeeeally struggle to understand the Mexican accent, is the idea of not seeing anyone I love in physical person for such a long time. I even had to change my phone background from two of my besties because it was making me sad every time I looked at it (I'm a very emotional person, OK?) I've cheered up a lot now and Greg has been super lovely to me about it all, even with the crying in public, bless him. As always, onwards and upwards, I mean this country is stunning, I'm sure my time here will fly by, and before long I'm crying about having to leave.</span></div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0Guadalajara Guadalajara20.673915 -103.357013tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5762802458144007444.post-17855800828259782322014-06-01T21:58:00.001-05:002014-06-04T16:39:26.951-05:00A Day in Sun CityToday was our first full day in Mexico. We arrived at about 6am to the Hermosillo bus station, jumped in a taxi and headed to set up our new camp at Hotel Washington, D.C. Although we had to wait in our groggy state for about two hours for the room to be ready, and despite the slight mix up of them trying to put us in just one bed, we eventually settled into our air-conditioned twin double bedroom for just 160M$ (about £8) for the night. BARGIN.<br />
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Apart from the fact that no one understands any of my Spanish - or my speaking in general, earlier on a taxi driver got a man to translate me when I said 'Hotel Washington', which is exactly the same in both languages... - it's been quite a pleasant yet lazy day. This was partially due to the bus-lag (that's a thing now) and partially due to the scorching 44*C heat. I mean just look at the weather forecast for the week, I don't know how anyone lives here full time. I suppose it's not nicknamed Sun City for nothing.</div>
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However between the numerous rest stops for drinks and our first proper Mexican meal of quesadillas and tacos and papas (OK chips...) we did manage to see some of the sights.</div>
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Loving our Mexican spread.</div>
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Hermosillo seems to be quite an authentic Mexican experience from what we've encountered so far. It would appear that we are the only none natives to the area, or at least that we've noticed seeing as hardly anyone speaks English. We are also starting to get used to being stared at, I'm assuming for our ridiculously pale/bright red skin tones (which will become an awesome tan in time, I just KNOW it) We really do stick out like sore thumbs. It's pretty cool though, to be somewhere off the beaten tourist track.</div>
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Plaza Zaragoza is the main square with a cathedral surrounded by beautiful orange trees. We had a wander around there with some super tasty fruit slushies, which Greg decided to have covered in chilli. Unfortunately despite the woman's recommendations, he discovered lime and chilli don't really mix to make the best concoction, especially not in refreshing iced-drink form...</div>
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Cathedral de la Asunción.</div>
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Palacio de Gobierno.</div>
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Blue skies and a big hill that we're thinking of climbing tomorrow. (@<a href="https://instagram.com/greghyne">greghyne</a>)</div>
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Now we're just chilling out in the hotel and considering watching a film to wind down for the evening. It's so hot here that I doubt we'll be staying very long, but hopefully we'll make it out to the zoo without melting tomorrow! </div>
Emily Storeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15473347780740477584noreply@blogger.com0Hermosillo Centro Hermosillo29.081601 -110.947983