The Brel Chronicles

One of the first conversations we had the day Brendan and I met, was the whole travel vs. vacation debate. His point, of course, was that I had not truly travelled, but merely vacationed. His criteria for what constituted ‘travel’ were unambiguous: he talked of $2/day hotels; spontaneous experiences; immersing yourself in local culture and random local food.

And so I embarked on this 10-month journey to prove that I too, am able to ‘travel’.

I awake this morning, on day 4 of our adventure, recalling my new ‘travel’ experiences. Our hotel: a luxury 5 star resort set at the base of the third-most active volcano in the world. The price? Less than his hotels in Thailand, at $0 per night. Spontaneous experiences…well let’s see…in the midst of touring the spa facilities, Brendan made the very spur-of-the-moment decision that I should participate in the Tabacon mud massage, provided in an private outdoor setting next to the famous hot springs, while he would take part in the spa-version of the traditional sweat lodge. Spontaneous experiences…check. Next criterion: immersing ourselves in local culture…we’ll be seeing much of the countryside over the next few days as we partake in rafting, canyoning and horseback riding adventures. Random local food? Well we did have a 6-course gourmet meal with the General Manager of the hotel, complete with samplings of his private liquor collection– does that count?

So Brendan…if this is ‘travel’, you’re right. I haven’t experienced it before. But count me in. Travel: 1, Vacation: 0.

B:
After all the plush and cush of the first few days, it seemed time for a little adventure, Costa Rica-style. First up: canyoneering! Canyoneering is a combination of scrambling down a steep river canyon, often neck-deep in water, and rappelling down waterfalls up to 200 feet high. Mel and I suited up, strapping on our harnesses and clipping into our…Mel? Mel?

Strangely, Mel wasn’t insane enough to follow me on this one, and instead opted for some shopping in La Fortuna, possibly the world’s worst collection of animal wind chimes, brutal bikinis and general handcrafted sh*t.

M:
The afternoon brought our first true adventure together: rafting the Rio Balsa class III rapids, with Desafio Adventures (www.desafio.com). As our guide took us through the safety instructions of what to do if/when our raft flipped over or one of us fell out, I repeated the following mantra: “Brendan, I hate you right now. I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I will make you pay for making me do this.” [This was distinctly in Mel’s outside voice. - B]

The rapids were fierce, the water was cold, and the paddling furious at times. And no, neither one of us fell out. In the end, we both loved rafting the Rio Balsa, and are anxious to tackle even more challenging rivers as we make our way across Costa Rica.

You’ll note in the pic below, that Sporty Mel is not one of my sexiest looks. Apologies in advance. And for all of you who told me I would bail on wearing makeup, you were right – but I did hold out for 5 days.

We are currently on our honeymoon. 

Ok, so there wasn’t a wedding, and no, Mel still doesn’t have a ring, but we are living every couple’s dream honeymoon. We’re currently staying at Latitude 10 (www.latitude10.com), a luxury resort in Santa Teresa, on Costa Rica’s undeveloped Nicoya Peninsula.

Actually, this is more like an anti-resort. First off, we’re the only guests. We have a private French chef and staff of 12. Our master suite, 20 metres from the ocean, has no walls or windows – our giant shower is outdoors – and we pee with the monkeys (on Kohler fixtures, of course). Did we mention that a certain celebrity (think Lethal Weapon and The Passion of the Christ) stays here regularly? In our monster-sized bed? 

If you’re still reading this, and haven’t yet removed our blog from your Favourites, we should probably also mention that Brendan is being paid to be here – and Mel is here to provide her expert opinion on the infinity pool and tropical sangria.  And so, we’ve celebrated the marriage that has yet to happen, and lived the life Mel reads about on www.perezhilton.com .

Travel: 2, Vacation: 0.

Next up…the Monteverde Cloud Forest. Rather than stomach the pot-hole riddled 5-hour drive from La Fortuna, we opted to travel via horseback, again through the Desafio Adventure Co. Nixon, our guide, an authentic vaquero (cowboy) led us along Lake Arenal, through some of the most beautiful hills and valleys in Costa Rica. And for the first time since our trip began – sunshine! The ride was incredible – and so is the pain, now that our bodies have had time to launch a protest.

We are staying in a cloud forest (literally), at an extremely remote rustic lodge, complete with wood-burning stove in our room (www.miradorlodge.com) . As we are the only guests here, the 55 hectares of private reserve are exclusively ours to enjoy. The staff to guest ratio certainly explained the prices in the “dining room” (think ketchup Bolognese sauce). The view of Arenal Volcano, across the lake, is second- to-none. Luxury, this is not – an authentic cloudforest experience – absolutely.

Today we woke up in a cloud – and could literally see about 10 feet in front of us. So much for the view…Typical tourists, we instinctively planned on paying $$ for the heavily promoted Cloud Forest™, but soon realized the real thing was at our doorstop. We donned our rubber boots (see photo below) and hailed our machete-wielding trail blazer/maintenance guy, and set out for a day hike – mostly uphill [Would you like some cheese with that whine? –B].

Picture it: a flock of Tilley-wearing, grey-haired, book-carrying birders, clinging to their binoculars in search of the resplendent Quetzal (that’s a bird). In the middle of this flock, two 30-somethings dazed from a lunch of beer and pizza, desperately trying to make conversation. [Truth be told, we’ve both become obsessed with crossing off birds in our own ‘Birds of Costa Rica’ book, and Brendan has spouted bird factoids ad nauseum. Particularly impressive is his ability to weave random bird knowledge into seemingly innocuous conversation, as if it were somehow relevant to our discussion about, for example, exchange rates. For the record though, I am kind of proud of our blue-crowned motmot sighting and all of my motmot knowledge…the motmot, otherwise known as a clock-bird…well-known for its colourful mating rituals, etc. –M ]

We´re also seeing lots of monkeys– white faced capuchin and howler monkeys (pictured below). Not sure when the thrill of seeing random monkeys on the streets will wear off, but we’ll keep you posted.

We thought the butterfly garden might be another meet-up spot for our new-found birding friends. Imagine our surprise when I ended up holding a live tarantula (caught in the garden earlier this week). I also had a chance to bond with a female praying mantis, a long-time favourite insect of mine, due to its adept relationship management techniques (a.k.a. biting off the heads of lovers). Brendan also had a chance to rekindle long-lost friendships -did you know there are more than 30 species of cockroaches?

Oh yes, and of course, there were butterflies. Very pretty. Apparently poisonous to eat. And bloody hard to photograph.

We’re joined this week by SPF 85 guest, Sean “el blanco” Evans, as we take on the surfer paradise of Mal Pais and the hippie-lands of Montezuma. 

By surfer-paradise, we mean, it must be paradise if you’re a surfer. Or a single woman who likes to see scantily-clad men with big muscles and tans, wandering around with their shorts below their butt cracks. Yes, Leith and Kim, we’re talking about you. 

From the attention these hot surfer dudes we’re getting, it seemed that a 2-hour lesson would be more than enough for Sean and Brendan to transform into bronzed gods of the sea. 

Not so. Actually, it was kind of embarrassing. Let’s just say, it’s a good thing they provided a long-sleeved shirt to prevent Sean from blinding beach-goers with his “el blanco” chest. Brendan, while perhaps looking more the part, failed to convince anyone that he was actually able to catch a wave – despite this being his third attempt. 

Our week of eating and drinking was punctuated with short bursts of activity – mainly hiking (a.k.a. rock climbing) to the Montezuma waterfall and taking on the trails at Cabo Blanco, Costa Rica’s first nature preserve. [Note from Mel: when the guidebook describes something as ‘fairly strenuous’, they really mean 4 hours of sheer torture, mostly uphill, with no food or water] [Note from Brendan: that’s called hiking]. In the end, we were able to swim with pelicans, which made it all worthwhile. 

Readers please take note: if you are planning on becoming a guest star in the Brel Chronicles, you’re more than welcome, but please, please, don’t just bring Canadian currency – especially to towns that don’t have banks, ATM’s, or restaurants that take credit cards. Sean – have you received the bill for our financing fees yet? 

…and then it gets really, really hard. I am taking Spanish classes this week in beautiful Manuel Antonio, while Brendan “works” (more on that later). It’s funny how challenging it has suddenly become to count past 10, recite the alphabet or tell time. Not really sure how practical my new vocabulary is – but Rosa-Maria, if you want to discuss fruits, activities, food and occupations when I’m back in Toronto, then I’m your girl.

My classes are in open-air cabinas, great for learning, except, of course, when a troop of Titi monkeys decides to take over the area. Titi monkeys, a.k.a. squirrel monkeys, are pretty much the cutest things on earth. They stand 8-12 inches tall and travel in groups of up to 40. Titi monkeys are endangered, so having the chance to see them is pretty spectacular.  To those of you who were worried this trip might make me want to quit my job, I’d be lying if I said part of me doesn’t want to give it all up to save the Titi monkeys. Or at least get a chance to hug them.  

Brendan and I are also taking private merengue and salsa classes. It’s all very Dancing with the Stars – daily, intense instruction, with tons of practice in the evenings. We’re probably more Jerry Springer or Cliff Claven then we are Emmitt Smith or that hot Apollo dude, but we will have some new moves to show off at Mel and Chris’ wedding.

And now, a word about Brendan and his ‘work’ – see illustration of him hard at work in his office, below. I’m pleased to report that he’s completed reading his self-help book, The 4-Hour Workweek (that’s a real book by the way, by Tim Ferris). By carefully applying the methods described in the book, Brendan has successfully increased his work hours, by up to 100%. He’s almost reached the critical goal of 4 hours per week. 

Hasta luego….

Downside to dating a former tour guide: enormous amounts of random, mostly useless knowledge. Brendan told me all about this gunera, but I ’soft focused’ the details.

Message to Brendan: stop with the tree facts - I’ve reached my limit. Monkey facts still permitted, of course…

Brel

1. When travelling with limited underpants, the following manoeuvres are permitted:
• Continuation – the continued wearing of a pair of semi-clean undies, after for example, a shower or swim, if the undies have been worn for less than 16 continuous hours
• Double-dipping – a last ditch option, whereby you select the least soiled pair of underwear from the laundry bag and re-wear. Cannot be combined with Continuation.
• Inside-out – much controversy surrounds this dangerous manoeuvre, whereby a worn pair of skivvies are turned inside-out and re-worn. Generally, this manoeuvre is considered covert and not publicly disclosed.
• Commando –can either be a desperation move, or one justified by chosen attire (surf shorts, bathing suits, man-pris, etc.). When skilfully applied, this manoeuvre can significantly extend the length between visits to the ‘lavanderia’.

2. The size of the crap you’re carrying expands to 120% of the space you have in your pack, requiring that you strap objects (e.g. pineapples – true story) to the outside of your bag. And no matter how much you think your boyfriend loves you, he will not, under any circumstances, carry your pack for you, nor will he put any of your shoes or makeup in his bag. No matter how much you whine.

3. Don’t flush toilet paper down the toilet. Bad things will happen. Trust us.

4. The size of a bug does not correspond in any way, to the size of the bite it will leave behind, or to the amount of itchiness it will cause.

5. You can never see too many monkeys.

6. Yes, you can be allergic to the sun. This is most unfortunate when you are 3 weeks into a 46 week sun-filled trip. Pictures of Mel’s welts to follow.

7. The best time to spot wildlife is when you are without your camera. The harder you look, the less chance you have of finding it. Thus, no pictures of Titi monkeys. Best strategy: beer in one hand, standing alone in a parking lot, without your glasses.

8. The price of any given food item bears no relation to its quality. $3 casado better than $17 casado; $1 beer better than $10 cocktail.

9. Budgets are easy to meet when they are moving targets that contract or expand depending on how badly you need that massage or $4 diet coke from the mini bar.

10. Spending 24 hours a day together, every day, can be a challenge. But for formerly very social people, we’ve made a fairly smooth transition to being a Party of 2.

  
Titi Monkeys! 

No matter how many times you see them, they’re still cool. No, they don’t come when called (not for lack of trying by Mel: “…mooooooonos, ven aca monos…” was her second Spanish phrase after learning how to order beer).

Of the 4 types of monkeys in Costa Rica, we’ve been able to stalk 3. Introducing:

Howler Monkeys. These are the son of a B*%#$es that wake s up every morning at 4:00am. They’re way smaller than they sound. Like humans, it’s only the males that make all the noise.

Capuchin/White-Faced Monkeys. Cute and frighteningly human-featured.

Titi Monkeys aka Squirrel Monkeys. A regular feature in this month’s blogs. If only Mel loved me as much as these little guys, we’d have been married long ago. According to Mel it is their “soft, soft paws” that make her want to “hug and pet and love them” so much.

Enjoy the pics! They are NOT easy to get (about 10 tree shots to each visible monkey shot).

After all this silly luxury I thought it was time to get down with the peeps. You know, keep it real. Otherwise known as the local bus. (Chicken-free)

I assured Mel there was “hardly any” chance of having to stand on the public bus to Dominical. As long as we were there a little early it would be no problem.

At about 15 minutes waiting for our taxi things started to get a little tense. Arriving at the terminal at exactly the departure time to see a huge queue and a full luggage compartment I could feel Mel’s eyes burning into the back of my skull. Five minutes later, straddling our bags and crammed standing into the back of the sweaty, dust-choked bus, the burning had become a scorching inferno. Then the whining began.

The trip—2 ½ hours on unpaved roads—got much better tho, especially after a nice man gave Mel his seat. It was all worth it though, to discover Dominical.

Dominical was a surprise, small, cozy, community-oriented, a surf town without attitude, with enough cool restaurants and bars to keep you entertained but without ugly development to ruin things. Plus a stunning beach with killer surf. We instantly wanted to stay for a week.

Alas, it was not to be, as we had another date with luxury, but we had enough time there to party it up at the local disco (we do mean local), spot a crocodile for Mel in the river fronting our hotel, meet some great expats and vow to return to chill one day.

 We’ve spent the last 3 nights at the very unique and posh Rancho Pacifico, located high on a seaside mountaintop, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. We likened spending time at RP to being invited to a friend’s – albeit a very, very rich friend’s – private estate. Our 1,400 square foot 2 bedroom villa, complete with private plunge pool, is also an occasional celebrity hangout – this blog’s title is not a coincidence.

RP’s resident howler monkeys were consistent with their 5:30 a.m. wakeup calls-while this hour was a challenge for the sleepy Mr. Powell, it was the perfect time to continue Operation Bird Discovery. Someone recently accused me of turning ‘birding’ into a corporate project – and I suppose the detailed plans, SMART goals and the Excel spreadsheet, might be evidence of that - I guess I haven’t really separated from my work persona just quite yet…) Nonetheless, we made significant progress on Operation Bird Discovery, with our new friend Jon from New York, and we’re able to spot the much-desired trogon birds, the aricari, and at long, long, last, the toucan. While I’d like to pretend we accomplished all of our early birding via strenuous daily hikes, truth be told, there was at least one morning where we birded from our terrace, in our plush robes, coffee in hand…

We continued our weekly spa treatment ritual, taking part in daily massages, body scrubs – and yes, Brendan even got a facial – see pic below.

We knew we couldn’t face any of you back home, if we didn’t participate in Costa Rica’s number one touristy adventure – the canopy zip line. For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, a zip-line is a series of cables strung over valleys, rivers and above the rainforest canopy (treetops).

Tour operators would have you believe that the canopy tour has something to do with wildlife, and spotting animals, but once they strap you into a climbing harness, clip you into a pulley and push you off a 100 foot platform, trust me – nature is the last thing on your mind.

My internal narrative went something like this: “Wow, this is high. Why am I doing this again? Why do I always feel the need to please Brendan – haven’t I already proven I love him by washing his dirty laundry and putting up with his nagging? Well, the view from here is kinda cool and I’ll probably see some cool stuff. OK, here we go. Expletive. Expletive. Expletive. I’m glad my Mom’s not here to hear these words. Oh god when will this be over? Expletive. If my eyes are closed and I’m zooming so fast, how the heck am I supposed to see anything? OK, almost done. I hope Brendan isn’t taking pictures – this can’t be a flattering angle. Excellent – I can see the platform. Ok, phew, I made it.”

Brendan’s internal narrative: “Cool. Can’t this thing go any faster? I can NOT believe I got Mel to do this. What the hell was THAT bird call? Shrill, squawking, almost shriek-like… Oh god, that was Mel. I’m so embarrassed….”

By the Numbers…
• Number of identified birds in Operation Bird Discovery – 47
• Pounds of gallo pinto (rice and beans) consumed – 6
• Number of monkey photos taken by Monkey Photographer BP – 1,000+
• Percentage of random foods Brendan made Mel eat – 24
• Number of Brel disagreements – 3 (that we’re counting, anyhow)
• Percentage of time Mel spent whining while hiking – 30%
• Number of hours Brendan claimed to be working when really, he was just surfing the internet – 26
• Ratio of Freebies to Personal Money spent – 2:1

Moments We’d Rather Forget…
• The 2.5 hour local bus ride to Dominical – spent standing in the aisle (until the whining finally got someone to give up their seat)
• Mel’s sun rash and Brendan’s food poisoning
• The plastic covered bed in Monteverde – shielding us from bed bugs perhaps?
• The many impossibly slow internet connections and the ridiculous amount of time we spent uploading content to the blog, and photos to Flickr

Highlights
• Titi Monkeys eating bananas out of Mel’s hand (I know, you’re not supposed to feed the monkeys, but have you seen the pics? Who could resist!?)
• Waking up in Mel Gibson’s bed with waves crashing just metres away
• Being treated like VIP’s – when we all know this just isn’t the case
• The rooms at Arenas del Mar, the privacy of Latitude 10, the clubhouse at Rancho Pacifico and the service at Tabacon Hot Springs
• Meeting great Ticos (locals) and fascinating tourists – hola!
• Mastering some great salsa and merengue moves – and being applauded while trying them out in at a local restaurant
• Realizing people are actually reading our blog – thanks! We love the comments, so please keep ‘em coming!

We were welcomed into Belize today – well, at least the part of Belize which is a luxurious jungle fantasy spa. We are staying at Maruba Jungle Lodge (www.maruba-spa.com), a quirky, neo-tribal chic, boutique resort, in the middle of nowhere. Our room, in keeping with the style to which we have become accustomed, includes a giant mosaic-tiled Jacuzzi in the sitting room, set within a jungle atmosphere complete with palapa roofing, carved tribal masks and fresh hibiscus flowers and palm fronds in every nook and cranny. The bottle of Henkel champagne, chilling as we arrived, was a great thirst-quencher after our morning of travel through Costa Rica, El Salvador and finally, Belize – all before 10 a.m. A constant soundtrack of groovy ethnic lounge tunes set the tone throughout the resort – popular with dj blend, of course.

The highlight of the day was certainly the couples mud massages. Although not the first ones of this trip, they do certainly win the award for uniqueness, and in fact have been granted the inaugural Random Factor designation. We should have known something was up when they insisted we bring our cameras.

Our treatment began much like any other – outside in a cabina, mostly naked. Except for the fact, of course, that Brendan was handed a tiny pear of disposable thong ‘manties’ to wear for the treatment. This was our first sign to check our inhibitions (and dignity) at the bamboo door. The results of the treatment pretty much speak for themselves. It concluded with us being bathed by two beautiful Belizean women, in a massive open air Mayan tub. Random Factor: 9, a.k.a. RF9.

Can’t get much more random than that – except, of course, for the elusive RF 10.

Happy Birthday Mel.

Caving

Originally uploaded by pichemelanie

Today, I continued the quest to conquer my fears. Up next: small, dark underground places, and, get ready for it….bats.

Dressed as Sporty Mel once again, I donned my headlamp and descended into a mile long cave at Blue Hole National Park, located in one of Belize’s oldest jungles. I climbed over giant boulders, hoisted myself up steep passages and basically did whatever I needed to do to make my way through a series of dark, wet caves. I may not get points for style (I’m not sure I was supposed to crawl or drag my butt as much as I did), but I’m pleased to report I made it to the end of the cave – only to be welcomed by hundreds of bats. Ok, so maybe most of them were sleeping, but still, I was pretty brave. I celebrated my victories with a dip in a large, sapphire blue sinkhole, fed by underground streams.

Fear of small, dark, underground places: check. Fear of bats: alive and well.

Leith: do not read this entry.
It seems as though our planes have been gradually getting smaller and smaller.
Not looking forward to the return flight to Canada – via Canada Goose?

Trogon

With Phase 1 of Operation Bird Discovery successfully implemented in Costa Rica, we have moved on to the second and more aggressive phase – Operation BD Belize.

l have spent most the week stalking birds. Scarlet macaws, toucans, trogons, kingfishers and parrots are some of the more than 75 bird specifies – yes, 75 – that I’ve spotted and identified in the last 3 days. That’s 50 new birds that will be added to my “Life List” – a birding term used by people as obsessed as me. I’m looking forward to a Canadian summer so I can actually check out Canadian birds and add them to the list too. I seem to only remember robins, blue jays, and Toronto pigeons and geese. Embarrassing, but true.

I did spend a day at the world’s only jaguar preserve – of course the jaguars, pumas, ocelots and jaguarundis don’t come out to play during the day – but I did see some recent jaguar paw prints, which might mean I just missed him. Maybe.

If you’re wondering why Brendan is noticeably absent from this week’s blogs – don’t worry, I haven’t fed him to a crocodile (yet) – he’s been busy writing about all those great hotels we went to last month. Only thing better than being a travel writer? Being a travel writer’s g-friend.

Went to see some Mayan ruins – Xunantunich and Cahal Pech. Very cool. Got a bit distracted with some new birds.

While Mel was communing with the Mayans, I pulled myself away from my computer for a little adrenaline. Belize has the largest underground cave system in the world, some sections of which have collapsed, creating massive sinkholes.

One of these sinkholes, the 300 foot so-called Black Hole, was rappelled by a crazy Canadian once, and he eventually made a business out of taking other insane people to do it to. I decided I was one of those people. It was awesome.

Ian Anderson’s Cave Branch Jungle Lodge
http://www.cavesbranch.com/

B post snorkel

Another new world has opened up to Mel – the world under the sea.

Over the years, many of you have witnessed Mel’s sad attempts at snorkelling: the anxiety attacks, the claustrophobia, her refusal to put her head in the water.

Well we are pleased to report that Mel has successfully combated her snorkel demons. This was an especially important phobia for her to overcome, given our travel plans this year include sailing a tall ship through Brazil, spending two weeks aboard a boat in the Galapagos Islands, and cruising through the Greek islands.

Belize is renowned as having some of the best diving and snorkelling in the world, and we were not disappointed: crazy-coloured fish, an octopus, a stingray, a bunch of stuff we didn’t recognize, and of course, some great coral.

We’ve been staying at a dive resort all week (www.hamanasi.com) in Hopkins Village, and are headed to Placencia tomorrow, where we will continue to explore the world under the sea…

1. New underwear manoeuvre: Anticipation
This strategy involves a pre-emptive strike: the application of any of the aforementioned underwear extension manoeuvres (continuation, double-dipping, inside-out and commando) in anticipation of the potential unavailability of laundry services.
2. The resident gecko issued with every hotel room in the tropics is highly preferable to the giant, resident cockroach.
3. It is best to shield Mel from said giant, resident cockroach.
4. Moving from a $600 a night hotel to a $40 a night hotel sucks. King size bed to a single: sucks even more.
5. Two dollars US can actually buy an entire half-pound of bacon for breakfast. Bacon lovers unite!
6. Belize is the hot sauce capital of the world. Easier going in than coming out, even for Brendan.
7. Bug spray, Benadryl and Caladryl can actually be your best friends. That is if you actually want to step outside and have a bridesmaid’s dress to wear in less than a week.
8. Tracking scarlet macaws requires lots of uphill hiking and 5 a.m. wake-ups. This was not clearly outlined in the brochure.
9. The fact that Belize’s national language is English, does not necessarily mean communication will be any easier. Strangely, there were no classes offered in the Creole/Garifuna/Mayan/English language.
10. Brendan is actually capable of focusing on work while sitting on a hammock on a dock –albeit for very short bursts of time.

We are spending our last week in Belize in Placencia, a small village on the very end of a long, narrow peninsula with beaches on one side and mangroves on the other. Placencia’s claim to fame is having the narrowest street in the world – 3 feet wide – that strings together its various shops, restaurants and guest houses. There’s a fascinating ex-pat community here – not quite hippie, yet stoner-esque with a story to tell. The Belizeans continue to be a warm, welcoming bunch.

To prep ourselves for our upcoming sea voyage in Brazil, we spent a day on a catamaran, sailing and snorkelling among the coral and sea life. The rest of our days have mostly been spent hanging out at the beach – 16 miles long, and rumoured to be the best in Belize. We have been diligently working on our tans – Mel is aiming for deep bronze, and Brendan is, well, apparently satisfied with dark white.

We are counting down the days of sunshine, before our temporary return to Toronto from February 19th to March 1st. Your stories of snow and cold have not helped, but we’re nonetheless looking forward to seeing as many of you as possible.

One of the challenges of our trip this year has been trying to find a way to tie it all together and give it some kind of meaning – a meaning beyond the tropical drinks and wine, foodie adventures and beaches.

We’ve decided to find a way to give back to the communities that are welcoming us.

The Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation will select a cause in each country we visit, and do what we can to make a difference. At times, we’ll donate money; at times we’ll volunteer our services. With limited time, and even more limited budgets, we know we won’t be changing the world – but if we can do one small thing, in each country we visit, our hope is that the Brel adventures will live on.

And so the Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation begins its work…

Placencia has a huge stray cat population-some of the friendliest, albeit hungriest cats we have ever seen. Cats and kittens are everywhere. Our mission here? Ambush some of the repeat moms and pay to have them spayed. Coincidentally, there will be a veterinarian visiting Placencia this weekend – so the plan is to help reduce the stray population before we leave Belize. Our rationale: every spayed stray cat prevents the birth of dozens of litters, and the birth of their kittens, and their kittens, and their kittens….

And when we return to Costa Rica for our flight back to Toronto, we will be making a contribution to Kids Saving the Rainforest – an organization that is currently placing monkey bridges above the roads in Manuel Antonio to prevent the electrocution of the Titis by electric wires. If you’re up to speed on our blog, you already know there are only 1200-1500 Titi monkeys remaining in Costa Rica.

If you’re interested in helping out the Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation, or this month’s causes of stray cats and Titi monkeys, you can increase our resources by sending an Interac e-mail transfer to pichemelanie@hotmail.com. We promise your dollars will go to worthy causes – and we’ll report everything back via the Chronicles.

By the Numbers

• Number of sweet rum drinks consumed: innumerable
• Greatest number of bug bites on Mel at any one time: 85
• Number of books read since beginning our adventure: Mel: 10; Brendan: 1
• Average number of times Brendan ate lobster per day during the last week of the season: 2.1
• Hours spent in the sun during the last month: Mel: 120; Brendan: 3.5
• Percentage of meals Brendan improved by adding Marie Sharp’s hot sauce: 98%
• Percentage of days Mel had bacon for breakfast in Belize: 90%
• Number of times Brendan rehearsed the words and moves to Mr. Roboto for his karaoke debut: 9 (but then backed out of his performance)
• Number of Brel disagreements about personal hygiene: 3 (don’t ask)

Moments we’d Rather Forget
• The concrete bed, the gravelly pillows and cockroaches at our first cabina in Placencia
• The amount of nachos and other unhealthy Mexican food consumed
• The bugs – especially the ones who anaesthetize their victims before stinging – unknowingly leaving you in incredible pain
• Mel attempting to learn to dance the Punta at a local club – arms wrapped around a large Belizean woman, gyrating and shaking her booty in rhythm to someone who has clearly been punta-ing for a long, long time

Highlights
• Mel successfully combating her snorkelling demons and discovering a new world, hand-in-hand with Brendan
• Surviving the crazy couples mud massage at Maruba – and having the guts to post the pics online
• Caving, birding, rapelling and all our other attempts to make ourselves appear less lazy then we’ve actually been
• Realizing our blog has received almost 6,000 hits – and not all of them were by Mel’s Dad

We are returning to the Great White North Feb 19th with a side trip to Mel and Chris’ wedding (yay!) and back to T.O. with a stopover in Peterborough to visit B’s dad, returning to T.O. Wed the 27th.

We have limited time in Toronto before we leave for Brazil March 2, but we’d like to see as many of you as possible, so please join us for dinner and/or cocktails at Teatro.

Friday, February 29, 7:00 pm onwards

Hope to see you all then!

It is 39 degrees under a hot, hot sun. Perfectly tanned and toned bodies in string bikinis surround us. Miles of white sand beach stretch before us. We sip caipirnhas while listening to the sounds of bossa nova.

No, this not one of Brendan’s dreams. Welcome to Rio.

After a brief stint in the Canadian cold and snow (congrats again on the nuptials Mel and Chris!), we have returned to life as it was meant to be. Rio is more spectacular than expected and we’re fitting right in. Well…truth be told, people are pointing and laughing at Brendan’s white skin (this, despite his having spent the last two months in Central America). And our Belizean weight gain (thanks fry jacks and fritters) isn’t doing much for our bods in swimwear. And Mel’s chest is grossly inadequate here, where boob jobs are mandatory for all women over 15 years old. But really, Rio is great.

We’re staying on Copacaba Beach, just down from Ipanema Beach (yes, you should be humming both Copacabana and the Girl from Ipanema right now).

We spent the morning hanging with JC-see picture below. At 120 feet tall, situated at the top of Corcovado Mountain, JC is watching over Rio – though there doesn’t seem to be a lot of guilt going on around here. And wasn’t there something about some commandments? Can’t seem to find proof of those anywhere.

And like everyone else who visits Rio, we took the tram car up Sugar Loaf Mountain – the view was well worth it. 39 degrees in a city of 6 million people does create quite the haze though, so the pics don’t really do it justice.

Soccer Brazil-style

While Brazil may have more Catholics than anywhere else in the world, the real religion here is football – not the NFL kind, but soccer. So of course, we had to take in a game at the world-famous Maracana Football Stadium. Matches here are among the most exciting in the world – not just because of the quality of the players, but because of the fans. Hours of endless chanting, smoke bombs, flares and samba drums are just some of the ways the 90,000 fans show their support.

We watched Fluminense, one of Rio’s top teams, slaughter the Arsenals, bitter rivals from Argentina, 6-0. We were pleased to be on the winning end of the slaughter – and pleased not to have ‘beer bottles, cups full of urine and dead chickens’ hurled at us. That last quote is a warning, directly from our Lonely Planet guide.

Seriously, these guys take being a soccer fan to a level unheard of in North America. We could only imagine Canadians getting this excited, if, for example, the Leafs came back from last place to win the Stanley Cup in triple overtime, with Gretzyky, Bobby Orr and Rocket Richard leading the charge, after the Leafs have somehow already won the World Series and the Superbowl. Oh yea, and the 1976 Canadian team….

Here are some fun videos of the game. If they don’t work, the video server may be down (it was when I loaded them but assume it will be back soon.)

We knew it would eventually happen: the transition from vacation to travel. We are currently sailing on an old-school wooden tall ship, along the coast of Brazil. Adventure: yes; luxury: not so much.

After getting her own sea-sickness under control (thanks transdermal patch), Mel quickly assumed the role of Mother to the pukers. We’re sure this has nothing to do with the fact that she could, in fact, be the mother to some of the 19 year-olds on the ship. Thanks to a Costco purchase of Dramamine, she had everyone under control mid-way through the initial 12 hour sail on the Atlantic.

The cast of characters on our ship does not disappoint. Our faves - 2 brits on their gap year after high school, who we’ve nick-named Bill and Ted (though Cheech and Chong was a close second).

We should also point out that we are not just passengers on this ship – but act as a pseudo-crew when it’s time to hoist the sails. To be honest, the whole thing is a lot of work, and I’m not sure why we don’t just have some remote control that we can use to manoeuvre the sails. Surely that exists somewhere? An Easy button perhaps?

It’s funny how the brochure neglected to mention that we would all be sleeping in the same room, in bunk beds. Thankfully, the ship only has 9 passengers this week, so the amount of noise and disgusting sounds/smells being emitted isn’t entirely unbearable. We opt to sleep on deck, under the stars, whenever we can.

The miniature bathrooms onboard are yet another interesting part of the adventure. You basically need to collect a bucket water from the sea prior to doing your business and force the flush. Mel realized after the first day on board that limiting consumption of liquids in order to minimize bathroom use is probably not a good long-term strategy.

The food onboard is surprisingly good, though we think our cook may have a weakness for pot – and not the kind that she’s cooking rice in.

All in all, we have enjoyed our first 3 days on the ship, though a shower would be a welcome luxury right now. And Mel is dying to shave her legs.

We have, at long last, returned to land. As we look back on our week aboard the Tocorime (the same ship used in an episode of the Amazing Race, by the way) we remember….

• Sailing in a tropical storm – that in the end, lasted for 5 straight days and brought countless inches of rain
• A delicious, although improvised ‘beach bbq’ on the ship – complete with our chef cooking by headlamp
• Lots and lots of white rice
• No dolphin sightings – and not for Mel’s lack of trying
• Mud hikes – and a different definition of ‘gentle, flat walk’
• How gross it feels to not shower or wash our hair for a week – and the shock of how long leg hair can grow in that time
• More monkeys! They may look more gremlin-like then monkey-like, but how cute are they?
Not sure we’re true sailors yet, but it certainly has been an adventure we won’t soon forget. After a few (wet) days in Paraty, we’ve headed back to Rio…and hopefully some sun.

For all of you who’ve been reading our blog with envy, you’ll be pleased to know that we have made the difficult decision to reduce our lifestyle…albeit reluctantly. Gone are the beachfront hotels with rooftop pools, the bottles of wine, private transfers and fancy dinners. We’ve been welcomed into the world of the more genuine backpacker – bread and cheese breakfasts, per kilo buffet dinners and beer purchased at the grocery store. Pre-drinking, anyone? Oh yes, and let’s not forget about the buses…

Note to Mel’s parents: don’t worry, we come out of this alive and well. 

Ok, we’ve officially lost all sense of reason (if B ever had any….) 

Today we went hang gliding. Ok, technically, B test-piloted it yesterday, and when he came back intact, Mel decided to give it a try today.  

For those of you not fully recognizing the enormity of this event…have we mentioned that Mel has never gone for a ride on a roller coaster? Or that she refused to stand on her parents’ 23^rd floor balcony? 

Ok, back to hang gliding…here’s how it all went down (perhaps not the best choice of words)… 

To get airborne, you basically need to take a running leap off a 1,700 foot cliff - that’s like a 170 storey building, for all you non-math-types. Once you start running, there’s really no changing your mind without disastrous consequences – we suspect that’s why a man was conspicuously standing behind Mel to help (read: push) her along, if need be. Seriously, we have pictures.

Soaring high above Rio and the Atlantic Ocean, the view was, needless to say, pretty incredible. Catching the currents, flying along with the birds (literally), the whole experience was kind of surreal – and lasted about 15 minutes. B had reassured Mel that the flight was ‘relaxing and really calm’ – obviously, he hadn’t predicted the change in weather overnight and accompanying turbulence…thanks B.

Thanks to our fearless pilots Ricardo and Renato at Just Fly, for keeping us alive.

All in all, one heck of an adventure. The only question that remains….what can we possibly do next that will top this?

Although this blog had started primarily as a way to chronicle our trip, stay in touch with our friends and family, and keep Mel occupied when Brendan was doing work, it has grown a life and following of its own. We’ve received support from friends and strangers alike and wanted to say thanks and acknowledge some of the friendly feedback we’ve gotten.

Blog Stats:
Total hits: 7634
and 1302 unique users since January

Recent links and friends:

PC2Paper
Some nice folks at PC2Paper (“All About Travelling, Keeping in Touch, Penpals, and Sending Letters”) decided that our humble BC was worthy of their Travel Blog of the Week

Flip Flop Flyin’
We met Craig in San Salvador Airport. For an amusing if slightly twisted view of his own travels though Latin America, check out his blog:

Lost In Translation
Want a taste of what it’s like to be a gaijin? Brendan’s old buddy Pat from his days living in Tokyo has a fun blog with regular tidbits of life in that craziest of places—Japan. Pat even went so far as to marry a Japanese pop star this year… and is now a proud new daddy!

As we live it up in beautiful Rio, the reality of how much of the population here lives is never far away.

Favelas, the slum areas of Brazil, dot the countryside – in fact, there are 350 of these impromptu villages in Brazil, many of them within Rio’s city limits. Run by drug lords and gangs, the favelas are a side of Brazil few tourists venture into – so of course, we have to check it out.

We choose to visit Rocinha, the largest favela in Latin America, where 200,000 people live in makeshift homes. The sights, sounds and smells of this community are an in-your-face reminder that there are no government services here– no electrical power, no water, no police, no sewage systems and no garbage removal. Fifty-five percent of the kids between the ages of 4-13 attend the four schools in the favela – many of the rest are “put to work”, begging on the streets of Rio. Two hospitals here attempt to service the needs of this huge community, suffering from ailments we haven’t seen in Canada in decades.

We are told that people born in favelas will generally die in favelas. We are shocked to learn that many of the hotel and restaurant staff who has welcomed us to Rio lives here. We question our tipping practices.

As we walk through the narrow streets, we are often told to put away our cameras – not for concern over theft, but because we are passing through armed gang-member areas. When surprise visits from the federal police (mostly corrupt) occur in a favela, gunfights are sure to erupt. Three weeks ago, an 11 year-old girl was killed by a stray bullet. In the words of our guide, “gunshots are the way most people here will die.” We hope he was exaggerating.

Life in a favela, of course, isn’t all bad. A rich artistic and musical community thrives here and the sounds of samba and artwork capturing life here are never far away.

Our tour guide is from Be a Local tours, an organization which seeks to educate the outside world about favelas, while striving to change them. The day we visit, we bring chocolate Easter eggs for the kids. The profits from the tours fund a wonderful day care centre.

It comes as no surprise, I’m sure, that this month’s Brel Drop in the Ocean Foundation has selected he Rocinha Daycare as its cause. If you’re interested in donating, you can do so here: http://bealocal.com

Our visit to Rocinha won’t soon be forgotten – and is a sombre reminder that there is a lot more to Brazil than caiparinhas and beaches.

1.  Public displays of affection are not only the norm in Rio, they’re kinda expected.  Sadly for B, Mel still hasn’t come ‘round.
2. When driving in Brazil, feel free to create your own lane – and if on motorcycle, driving in between cars and buses is totally ok.
3. It sucks to be blind or maimed in Brazil – though I guess that’s true in most countries.  Who knew Rohinton Mistry’s descriptions of beggars in A Fine Balance were so accurate?
4. Heed safety warnings – like don’t go to Copacabana beach at night. Just ask the poor Swede who was swarmed by three locals and arrived at our hotel covered in blood.
5. To speak Portuguese (the official language here): Spanish + Italian, spoken with a thick nasal accent.  Don’t say ‘Gracias’.
6. It sucks to run out of clothes – and wearing a bathing suit cover up (Mel) and jeans (Brendan) for 36 hours in 35 degree heat isn’t particularly a good time.
7. Your pack only gets heavier and more annoying the longer you’re gone. Surely magnets make ideal souvenirs for everyone back home?
8. There is a limit to the amount of ham you can eat – no matter how many different ways they try to serve it.  And no, ham will never compete with bacon.
9. Even Brel can start to annoy each other three months in to a year-long trip. Take a deep breath and repeat the following: “Compromise will NOT kill me. Surely he (she) isn’t this annoying in real life – I’ve spent 2 years with him (her) and surely would have noticed this (fill in the blanks: hygiene/morning cheeriness/ pickiness/ stubborness/pig-headedness) issue before?
10. Coming up with Top 10 lists isn’t always easy, especially if you only have 9 things to say.

…from the world’s largest Catholic country.

 Brel

Cachaca – Ever indulged in a caipirinha? Well it ain’t a capairinha without cachaca. Brazil’s answer to rum, cachaca is a sugar-cane liquor that basically goes down like burning gasoline – even when flavoured with lovely fruits or dulce de leche.

 Capoeira - Brazil’s national sport, capoeira is a cross between martial arts and dance – picture Bruce Lee breakdancing. With a long-winded history that Brendan would be more than happy to tell you about, all you really need to know is that the hot Brazilian men who practice it are mighty fine. Of course, our fearless Brendan had to give it a go – see pic below. 

Churasco – Beef. Chicken. Pork. Sausage. Repeat. Churasco is a style of dining whereby an enormous rotisserie bbq, lined with 4 foot skewers of meat, tries desperately to keep up with hungry patrons. An army of black-tied waiters run frantically around the restaurant slicing off giant hunks of meat directly onto your plate. The gorging begins when each patron’s personal signal disk is turned so that a green side faces up. This triggers something akin to the start of a drag race, complete with clouds of smoke and screaming crowds. The only way to stop the constant flow of flesh and signal that your colon is indeed full is by turning over the disk, red side up. And even then, eager waiters waive swords of chicken hearts at you, all the same.

Some of you may not know that there is actually more than one blog being written about this trip.

Since January, Brendan has been writing for a new travel website called Planet Eye, as their “Global Nomad.” The blog is a collection of travel tips, tricks and insights from an experienced traveller, and is completely free of pictures of Mel with flowers on her breasts.

One cool thing about Planet Eye is their mapping and geotagging technology, which is used in all website elements, from photos to reviews–all of it is placed on a clickable, zoomable world map, including any of our (particularly good) photos that have been uploaded to the site. Planet Eye has even supplied us with a GPS device that records where on earth we are at all times, and embeds the data in all our photos. Cool!

Check it out at Planet Eye.com

and of course, check out Brendan’s blog as the Global Nomad here.

With 275 separate waterfalls and 23 kilometres of foaming water, Iguassu Falls is about as spectacular as it gets.  The falls lie on the border of Argentina and Brazil, so to truly see Iguassu, a visit to each country is pretty much mandatory. Despite horror-filled memories of jet boating in Niagara Falls (Mel), we decided to board a speedboat to go under the falls – and we do mean, under the falls.

By the Numbers

• Number of chicken bones swallowed: 1
• Number of times Brendan talked about his chicken bone: 42
• Number of beaches visited: too many to count
• Percentage of time spent sleeping while on a 22-hour bus ride: 60%
• Average price per kilo of food: $11 (lunch or dinner)
• Average daily temperature (excluding Paraty): 34 degrees
• Number of pairs of Havaianas purchased: 4 (total now owned: 12)
• Average price for a beer in a bar: $1.70
• Most expensive meal: $150 US – but worth it
• Least expensive meal: $6 US for two, including drinks – not really worth it

 Moments We’d Rather Forget

• Rain, rain and more rain in Paraty – both times we visited
• The 432^nd ham and cheese sandwich –no,  ham and cheese are NOT food groups
• Brendan discovering that he can’t eat mango without hours of stomach troubles – despite numerous stubborn attempts
• Mel’s chest cold and phlegm-iness

  Highlights

• The sights and sounds of Iguassu Falls
• Sailing out of the Rio harbour on the Tocorime
• The thrill of flying and seeing Rio from above
• Finally spotting dolphins – after countless hours and days spent on boats
• Surviving a frenzied motorcycle ride through a favela
• Mel highlight: beaches, beaches, and more beaches
• Brendan highlight: bikinis, bikinis and more bikinis
• Not gaining additional weight in Brazil – but not really losing the Belizean weight either

We spent a quick four days exploring some of the highlights of Uruguay. While not enough time to do it justice, we were able to get a flavour.

By the Numbers
• # of bottles consumed of medio y medio (a fantastic concoction of ½ champagne and ½ white wine) : 4
• # of times Montevideo mispronounced: 18 (correct pronunciation: not video like a movie, but with stress on the final soft e)
• # of cockroaches spotted near Mel’s bag: 1
• # of times Brendan enjoyed Froots’ label of the Full Montevideo : 6

Moments We’d Rather Forget
• The random (RF 7) chocolate therapy service at the thermal baths in Salto. Complete with an alternating soundtrack of Spanish news and too-loud Celine Dion, the treatment involved being painted in chocolate by a large woman and wrapped in Saran wrap.

Highlights
• Walking through the cobblestone streets of beautiful Colonia – a quaint UNESCO World Heritage town
• Exploring the Old Town in Montevideo
• Chilling in 39 degree thermal baths in Salto
• The end of overnight bus travel, at least for a little while

At long last (sorry Brazil and Uruguay), we have arrived in Buenos Aires, the Paris of the Americas; the land of beef and wine, where history meets style and where thanks to a currency crisis, we can gorge on a filet mignon dinner for $5, and a good bottle of wine for $7.

 We’ve rented a condo for the month in trendy Palermo – a cool neighbourhood littered with restaurants, cafes and park areas.  After three months on the road, we’re more than ready for a break from sleeping in pousadas (guesthouses) and more than anxious to hang up our clothes and put away our packs. 

Buenos Aires feels like home – there’s just no other way to describe it.

One of the highlights of Argentina, as we learned from our travels here in 2006, is the beef. Unlike anything we can get at home, Argentinian beef literally melts in your mouth. And while you could piece the cow back together like a jigsaw puzzle at the table (they eat everything here, including bowels and glands), the tenderloin is second to none. 

You can imagine our disappointment to find out, soon after our arrival in Buenos Aires, that the FARMERS ARE ON STRIKE. And they have been for a month. This essentially translates to: NO BEEF. Well, almost none. 

Through our tears, pasta and pizza, we are praying for the strike to end. And Mel is seriously considering lending her HR skills to help make that happen.

Tango is the soundtrack to Buenos Aires – whether it’s old school tango dancing in the streets, or the sounds of pop/rock songs that have been tango-ized, tango is everywhere. At once both seductive and aggressive, watching a couple tango is mesmerizing. 

And so, of course, we took on the brave (and looking back, perhaps stupid) challenge of learning to tango. We won’t lie – it wasn’t pretty. And don’t even ask Brendan to recount Mel’s attempts at the backwards through the legs kick – those memories hurt too much (and so does the victim of that the kick).  

Lesson learned: Mel, Brendan and the rest of humankind would really benefit from Brel sticking to salsa and meringue. Really. It wasn’t pretty.

Buenos Aires is a vain city by any standards: 1 in 10 women have an eating disorder; 1 in 30 people (that’s people, not women) have had plastic surgery; stylishly dressed and perfectly preened people are everywhere. 

It should come as no surprise then, that within days of arriving here, Mel decided it was time for a radical change  - time to cut the long hair she’s been painfully growing out for the last 2 years.

 Lessons learned at an Argentina salon:

1. It takes guts to ask for short blond hair in a country where dark, long hair is the norm. There are only 5 blond shades to choose from. And no pictures of short hair in ANY of the magazines.
2. It helps to speak Spanish. While she likes the end result, the bangs were not intentional.
3. Cut and color at a high end Palermo salon - $35 US. Equivalent at Mel’s salon in Toronto: $250.

 All in all, we’re pleased with the results. Though of course, we’ll miss the pig tails which had become Mel’s signature look. 

And so, we’re acclimatizing to the vanity here – we’ve even joined a gym. We’ll report our progress at the end of the month – unless of course, we opt for beef and wine instead of spinning and pilates, which is very possible.

Some of you may have noticed the repeat appearances of two scruffy and dishevelled 18 year olds in our photos over the last few months. Max and Ollie (or Bill and Ted as we affectionately re-named them - yes, from the movie), came into our lives on our sailing trip in Brazil, and through some odd stroke of coincidence, were also on our 17-day trip from Rio to Buenos Aires.  To fully grasp the entertainment value of Max and Ollie, you need to know a few things:

• They arrived in Rio for carnival and didn’t leave for 2 months. Somehow, they didn’t have time to see Christ the Redeemer or Sugar Mountain.
• They did laundry twice in two months. Seriously. We’re still trying to forget the smell of those infamous shoes.
• They survived on one meal per day (not including beers). One day, survived on one container of yogurt between the two of them.
• In a club in Uruguay, some random woman on the dance floor decided to brush their hair
• Shampoo, showers and sometimes deodorant: optional

 Max and Ollie: we love you guys. Safe travels back to England. We know you’ll make it back to Rio.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog reading to bring you an important beef bulletin.

We’re not sure why, but there’s some sort of reprieve going on with the whole beef strike. No need to lose sleep on our behalf anymore: beef is back.

MOOOOre beef please!