Our visit to Lima was short and sweet. We selected a hip little loft in Barranco, the “bohemian” neighborhood, to call home. Located South of the main city center, we found Barranco to be wonderfully relaxed and quiet, with tons of cute cafes and small shops.

We landed at the airport quite late, and after determining the taxi situation was a complete shit show, we called an Uber (Travis, you win again) to our Airbnb. Our adorable hosts (an anthropologist and an architect) welcomed us to the loft with a bottle of Malbec, tiny cakes, and little helpful handwritten notes (in English!) sprinkled throughout the space. 

We popped across the street to a wood-burning oven pizza restaurant, carbo loaded before bed (?) and then went home to pass out. 

In the morning Patrick hacked the TV to activate Netflix (!!!) and I spent the morning watching Pulp Fiction. I have a serious TV addiction, and after going FOUR WEEKS without watching TV I was in heaven. Finally we were like, ok we’re in a new city we should probably leave the house, so we walked down to the Barranco Beer Company. Patrick ordered one of the most giant focaccia sandwiches I have ever seen (it was delicious) while I munched on a salad (boring) and tried the beer sampler. I hate the taste of beer but I love the concept so I’m trying to teach myself to like it. Meanwhile Patrick is patiently teaching me about the different compositions of each type of beer (as far as I can tell they either have too much hops or not enough?) while I still think each type just tastes like… beer. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the neighborhood, ducking into shops and cafes to cool down. Oh, did I mention Lima was 90 degrees and super humid? As soon as I got out of the shower I would immediately start sweating again (sexy, I know). 

We went for an early dinner at Cala, oddly one of the only two restaurants on the water. Despite the BUMPIN bar downstairs (on a Monday?) the restaurant was DEAD so we scored a water-front table on their patio. We ordered Pisco Sours (apparently there’s some drama between Peru and Chile on who invented pisco) and they were okay. I haven’t had a Pisco Sour in a few years (I don’t love cocktails with raw egg whites) but I remember them being better. I had some delicious shrimpy ricey thing (I know you’re not supposed to eat shrimp abroad because they’re filled with the most ocean germs but I just love those little dudes so much I can’t help myself). 

Tuesday was touristy day, with the first stop at the San Francisco cathedral and catacombs. We scored an English speaking tour guide who lead us on a speedy walkthrough of the incredible cathedral. This place had everything; a beautiful historic library, hand-painted tiles imported from Italy, intricately tension-set carved wood ceilings, gold-leafed walls, and giant oil paintings hanging outside (they have to be restored every three months?!). We walked through the catacombs which were INSANE. This multi-level underground maze of graves, passageways, and massive pits connected via a system of tunnels was mind-blowing. I’d never seen anything like it. Recently, a team of archeologists collected the thousands of skeletons, sorted the bones, and arranged them into orderly designs. I guess seeing a bunch of piles of similar bones is less jarring than seeing piles of complete skeletons? But the idea of archeologists arguing over what type of pattern in which to layout the bones (“Chevron, no, spiral!”) makes me cringe. 

From there we walked to Plaza Mayor to check out the Government Palace and City Hall. The buildings were impressively beautiful and the palace guards wore very regal/silly uniforms like the guards at Buckingham Palace. 

Next, we sweated our way over to the Mercado Central, Lima’s largest market. It. Had. EVERYTHING. Every type of fruit, vegetable, fish, meat, cheese, pastry, juice, spice, grain, cooking utensil, plastic bag, pet food, party supply, and a ton of other stuff I’m forgetting. Walking up and down the narrow aisles I wanted to buy everything and so instead I bought nothing.

I settled into one of the busy little lunch stalls and had ceviche (fresh raw fish cured in citrus juice), aji de gallina (slightly spicy, creamy, yellow chicken stew served over rice and potatoes), and some VERY sweet, cold tea. I felt like a local, I was the only obvious tourist I could see, and my whole lunch was $5. 

We cabbed to Love Park, a beautiful art-filled spot with views of the ocean. We sat and  watched the paragliders fly over the ocean and debated whether or not we should take the plunge. We decided instead to get crepes at this impressively branded French crepe kiosk, and they were delicious. Every time I watch a crepe being made I still think of Amélie. 

After stuffing ourselves full of hot, delicious dough and cheese we walked along the waterfront down the Miraflores boulevard to Larcomar, a giant new development full of shopping and snacking. I was able to pick up a new pair of jeans (mine old ones were DONE) and we lazily explored the rest of the shops. After a long walk home we were very ready for a siesta. 

Dinner that night was a short walk away at the Sofa Cafe were we sampled local flavors like chicha morada (a sweet drink made from purple corn, pineapple, cinnamon, clove, and sugar) and lomo saltado (marinated strip steak stir fried with onions, tomatoes, peppers, served with fries and rice). After walking home we were ready to call it a night. 

The next morning Patrick woke up with a cold, so we decided to have a stay-at-home-day. We spent the day lounging around reading, trip planning, doing research (me) and coding (Patrick).

We ventured out in the afternoon to Molle, a bistro/cafe/flower shop/gelateria tour de force for some lunch. It was super cute and we would have loved to have gone back six more times. After, we walked down to Starbucks; the universally familiar oasis of air conditioning, good wifi, and Oprah chai. Once we were sufficiently chilled we went to MATE, Mario Testino’s photography museum in a beautifully restored classical mansion. The museum is a progression of tiny rooms featuring giant prints of his most famous photographs. Most impressive was the largest room at the end dedicated solely to his work with Princess Diana. The room also included one of her couture gowns. “She was so tall!”, Patrick exclaimed, standing next to the mannequin. Tall people always notice these things. She was 5’10”.

We got takeout for dinner and enjoyed a lazy night in, focused on Patrick kicking his cold. 

The next morning we packed up and headed to the airport. I loved our time in Lima, and would definitely return to see more of the city. Maybe when it’s a little bit colder. 🙂

Ahhh Quito, Ecuador. Unlike most travelers who come to Quito, we weren’t simply passing through on our way to the Galapagos. (We’re saving that for another trip.) Quito is a destination in it’s own right – huge and old and special for it’s history and character.

After a somewhat harrowing cab ride into town from the airport (this seems to be a common theme of our trip) we arrived at an AirBNB in the Old Town part of Quito, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Here comes the small details: First, our view of Old Town was incredible.

Second, the building, like the town, was very old. As part of being so old, didn’t have windows or doors that sealed very well. This isn’t a problem from a weather point of view – despite being at roughly 10,000 feet, Quito also lies about 25km south of the equator, so the temperate year round is fairly steady at 65F/19C year round. It was, however, a problem from a light and sound point of view. Quito – at least, the Old Town – gets up very early. The sun rises at 6:15AM but even before that there are lots of dogs barking, roosters crowing, car alarms unchecked, and church bells ringing. (Old Town has 40 churches). We were both up by 7AM every day.

This schedule, while somewhat disorienting for late sleepers like us, turned out to be alright. We were able to do and see more in the mornings and get to bed early, as the district we’re in wasn’t exactly renowned for it’s safety at night. That said, I think it will be a while before either Maja or I become morning people.

Further, being up on a hill meant that every trip out of the house meant a real hike to return home. Although we had some time to acclimate to the high altitude in Bogotá, we were still winded the first few days every time we returned from anywhere.

Speaking of going out, here’s some highlights of the stuff we did in Quito, in no particular order.

TelefériQo

After trying unsuccessfully to sleep in, we grabbed a quick, delicious coffee from a cute cafe down the hill from us and decided to check out the city from above, like we did in Bogotá. Quito has something it calls a “TelefériQo”, a gondola which takes you up to the Cruz Loma lookout, next to the Pichincha Volcano. While the ride itself had lots of good views, being at the top was pretty majestic. It was about 3,000 feet above Quito, meaning it was roughly 13,000 feet above sea level. If you’re thinking “This must cause altitude sickness,” you are correct. Luckily it wasn’t so bad for us, though Maja had a headache that was quickly dispatched by some Coca Tea. If you’re thinking “That sounds like it has cocaine in it,” you are also correct. (It’s been over a week and she’s still occasionally saying “we gotta get some more of that coca tea…”)

It was a fun experience! Apparently we lucked out because the clouds were soaring just above our heads but luckily not so low as to block our view of the city. It was a really surreal feeling, knowing that you’re standing on ground which is higher than when you’re normally allowed to take off your seatbelt on a plane.

Plaza Grande

In the center of Old Town lies the Plaza Grande, which we walked through many times. It features the President’s house on one side, the oldest hotel in Quito on the other, the Archbishop’s Palace, and some other stuff that was less important. Most important, however, was the monument in the center, to the Heroes of August 10, 1809, the fine people who made Ecuadorian independence happen.

Something fun I didn’t know: Ecuador was the first South American colony to gain independence from Spain, and as such earned the nickname “The Light of South America”.

Walking Tour of Old Town / Calle de la Ronda

We took a great free walking tour of old town that took us to a bunch of cool spots we wouldn’t have otherwise seen, like Calle de la Ronda, the “bohemian” area of Old Town with lots of cute shops and restaurants, and the central market, full of super colorful fruits and locals and smells and flavors. Highly recommended.

Iglesia de la Compañia de Jesus

There were lots of churches and super old buildings in Quito, but this one really takes the cake. Inside (“No fotos, señor!”) everything is covered in GOLD. I mean, look at this place. I know those bible stories don’t all stick, but I think we can all remember when Jesus said “Build me a church made of solid gold! Gold is best!” (It was in Deuteronomy, natch).

Anyway, this place took 160 years to build, which means all of the people who started building it died before it finished. BAD ASS.

Parque La Carolina

We took a day to explore the north part of town – the modern, normal part of Quito. It was modern and normal. There was a huge mall (“Quicentro”) with lots of ridiculously overpriced cell phones. (Well, maybe not for Quito, but compared to the USA – YEP).

The best part was walking through Parque La Corolina, a big park in the center of business district. This park had everything. A Dinosaur exhibit, a dirt bike track, weird statues, cool snack vendors, you name it. After so many days of hanging out in the old town, it was nice to reconnect with regular, modern life.

Off Day

We took a day in Quito to do nothing really. We sat around and read books and caught up on internet stories and we tried to order pizza but that didn’t work so we went out and got a little dinner somewhere unremarkable. Overall it was a great day.

Jesús del Gran Poder

Although we didn’t specifically plan it, we were lucky enough to be in Quito on Good Friday. This is lucky because Quito has the second largest Good Friday March, or “Jesús del Gran Poder” in the world (Seville holds the largest). The march features “Cucuruchos”, people dressed in purple garb and coned headwear, often carrying crosses or other uncomfortable jesus-related paraphernalia, sometimes without shirts, whipping themselves. It’s all very weird, but it’s also very traditional. It was quito a sight to behold.

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Overall, our time in Quito was well-enjoyed. After staying 5 days, we were happy to get out and move on to the next destination – Lima, Peru!

I loved Bogotá. From the moment we walked out of the airport and were met with cool, clean subtropical air, I was like, “oh hell yeah.” Bogotá is huge. With a population of about 8.8 million people, New York City and Mexico City are the only North American cities larger than Bogotá. The old and and the new mix well together  with giant modern skyscrapers towering over century-old plazas. The city is lush, vibrant, accessible, and rich with culture.

We spent less than 72 hours in Bogotá, here’s what we did.

Saturday

1:30p Get in

After landing at the enormous new Bogotá airport (a huge change from the airplane hanger in Panama we flew out of) we hopped in a cab. Like most of the countries we’ve visited so far, everyone drives crazy. Most of the time one or more of the seat belts are missing, as if the driver was like, “What the hell are these weird straps for? Better get rid of these!”. We pulled into the Hilton Hotel (we were dying for a hot shower and it was only $70/night) along with a giant bus with a police escort that we deduced was transporting a soccer team. This meant there was 24/7 police presence (along with the cutest golden retriever bomb dogs) outside our hotel during our entire stay. The taxi driver tried to rip us off, we countered, and settled on $22,000 COP ($7 USD). The hotel was super nice, and we delightfully settled in.

3:30p Dos cervezas, por favor

We walked over to the Bogotá Beer Company, which was not easy. Due to the altitude (8,660 feet above sea level) it felt like we were walking through jello. Once we finally arrived we ordered some of their brews and snacks, but the bar felt very American/European, which was not really the experience we were looking for, so we were like BYE.

7:00p What is happening

After a very bumpy cab ride we got to Gaira Café, a giant, eclectic local restaurant/bar/Cumbia house. The decor was industrial shabby chic meets music paraphernalia explosion. We snagged a table on the wrap-around balcony right above the stage and enjoyed some Colombian fare and drinks. When I ordered a glass of wine our waitress looked at me like I had sixteen eyeballs. Either I had accidentally said something offensive in my rusty Spanish (very possible) or people just never order wine at Gaira. Patrick, smartly, stuck with beer. The music/show started around 9p and from that point on we had no idea what was happening. The show began with actors/singers dressed as doctors trying to pull sleepy ladies in pajamas up onto the stage. As far as we could tell the rest of the show consisted of singers (possibly impersonating local artists) trying to cure the sleepy ladies with their music. The house band was fantastic, the singers were like, too good, and the show was a rollercoaster of lights, costumes and music. The audience LOVED IT. They were on their feet dancing, buying bottle after bottle of alcohol, and singing along to the music. The energy was incredible. Bogotá definitely knows how to party.

Sunday

10:00a To market, to market

We munched our way through the hotel’s incredible breakfast buffet and headed up to Usaquen for the Sunday outdoor market. We grabbed some authentic Colombian coffees and walked through stall after stall of hand crafted art, jewelry, furniture, clothing, and local delicacies. I wanted to buy everything, so instead I bought nothing, and we continued on to explore the rest of the colorful neighborhood.

12:00p History lesson

We walked through the Colombian National Museum, the largest and oldest museum in Colombia. The building was built in 1832 and used as a prison, until it was adapted for the museum in 1948. It houses a collection of over 20,000 pieces of art and objects, ranging from artifacts dating back to 10,000 BC, to twentieth century local art. The building itself was incredible, and very much felt like walking through an old, beautiful prison.

1:30p We’re full, let’s order the pasta

We strolled one block over to Tabula, one of the most delicious and most beautiful restaurants I have ever experienced. Flavorful, simple, and fresh tapas, hand-painted plates, bright, open, and airy space with a giant living wall and beautiful dark wood furniture. It was like a Colombian version of Foreign Cinema (our favorite restaurant in San Francisco) and I didn’t want to leave. After enjoying a number of delicious dishes and completely satiated, the couple next to us received an unbelievable looking lasagna. So, we immediately ordered the pasta del día, a house made red linguine with roasted tomatoes and melted cheese. I wanted to take a bath in it.

3:00p Cheezels

We walked through the Chapinero neighborhood, full of narrow tree-lined streets and cute shops. We tried to check out Bourbon Coffee Roasters and Lapercha (a Colombian design store) but were disappointed to find they were both closed. Instead we wandered the aisles of a nearby supermarket (one of my favorite things to do in foreign cities) and laughed at all of the the funny snacks in their kooky packaging.

7:00p Netflix and chill

We had every intention of going out for dinner, but after more than two solid weeks of travel and restaurants, we just wanted to, like, chill. We took advantage of our fancy hotel and ordered room service for dinner (empanadas, ajiaco, and wine) and rented Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation on pay-per-view. It was heavenly.

Monday

10:00a Cheese and chocolate

I was overly excited to try my first traditional, Bogotá-style breakfast. La Puerta Falsa, celebrating it’s 200th birthday this year (!) is a tiny hole in the wall restaurant just off one of the most popular plazas in Bogotá. We got a Chocolate Completo which consists of almojabana (bread roll made with cuajada cheese and corn flower), pan con mantequilla (bread with butter), queso (a triangle of fresh cheese), and a cup of hot chocolate. You dunk everything (including the cheese) into the hot chocolate and it’s hot and creamy and chocolatey and delicious. We also got a a steaming hot tamale, wrapped in banana leaves with a chicken leg tucked in the middle. Breakfast for two, $15,000 COP ($5 USD).

11:00a Oldies

We spent the rest of the morning exploring Plaza Bolivar, a very popular square surrounded by four architectural highlights: the neoclassical houses of congress, city hall, the supreme court, and Cathedral Primada. Locals were selling bags of corn to feed/throw at the pigeons, kids were running everywhere, tourists were taking selfies with the monuments, the place was hopping.

12:00p Fatties 

We wandered up to Museo Botero, home of the collection of Fernando Botero, Colombia’s most famous visual artist. We uncultured morons described the paintings as “portraits of Augustus Gloop’s relatives”.

1:00p FUNicular

Bogotá is home to Monserrate, a mountain that dominates the city center. It rises to 10,341 feet above sea level, where there is, of course, a church. You can either walk up, yeah right, or choose between the 87 year old funicular or the 63 year old gondola. We chose both; funicular up, gondola down. Both rides were smooth, quick, and scenic as hell. The view from the top was breathtaking (there is hardly any air up there), the church was massive, and there was a sizable market of vendors selling tchotchkes and snacks. It felt otherworldly.

3:00p Oh well

With our feet solidly back at a less-insane elevation, we went to check out some local shops, cafes, and museums. Every single one was closed for the holiday weekend (major bummer) so we wandered around and eventually went back to our hotel.

6:30p Early bird special

Now that we’re an old married couple we like to eat dinner early. We walked over to Club Colombia, a highly-rated restaurant in an old two story mansion. The lavishly over designed interior was starkly contrasted with a simple outdoor patio (where we sat). Despite having tons of waiters, the service was laughably awful, but the food was pretty solid. We grabbed a tres leches cake to go (not as good as yours, Elliott, if you’re reading this) and headed back to our hotel for another nice early evening.

Monday

1:00p Ship out

After a leisurely morning and another spin through the buffet (seriously, it was amazing), we packed up and headed back to the airport. We definitely felt like we would have enjoyed another few days in Bogotá, especially since so many things were closed. We had a wonderful visit, and I’m looking forward to hopefully returning.

Oh, and one of my most favorite things? This guy’s dedication to cake protection.

We didn’t have a lot of expectations for Panama, other than we knew it would be the first Big City on our trip. As one of the most populous cities in Central America (1.4 million) and a skyline like a waveform, we didn’t want to miss it.

This lack of expectations made it difficult to be surprised, but there was plenty to be both delighted and disgusted by. First, lets dispense with the bad:

• Panama City could not be described as a very clean city. The transit systems seems to have little environmental regulations, and huge plumes of black smoke coming from buses, cars, and motorbikes are very common. Although there is a good amount of trees and plant life throughout the city, there is also garbage, standing water, and power lines dangling alarmingly low from many intersections downtown. After leaving the center of the city, things get slummy pretty quickly.
• It’s uncomfortably hot and humid almost all the time. Things settle down at night, but it was routinely high-90s (35C) here during the day.
• The waterfront has a long beautiful park, but it’s unfortunately soiled by the awful smell of the low-tide right next to it. The tides in Panama City are fairly intense, as the water will retreat from the shore by a good 10-20 feet.
• Panama is not a walkable city. Sidewalks are often nonexistent, cars are given the right-of-way almost always, and crosswalks feel extremely dangerous. Combined with the heat, the smell, noise, and pollution from the streets make waking anywhere more than a few blocks away unbearable.

Those things said, I can tell you more about the greatness of Panama City:

• The architecture: we saw so many insanely cool skyscrapers, and even more beautiful colonial building throughout Panama, and especially in Casco Viejo, the city’s old town, which I’ll discuss more later.

 

• The people: everyone we met was friendly and helpful. We never felt unsafe, and always welcome.

• The cost: our 4-star hotel (Hilton Doubletree) was only $60/night. Beers were $3 and a cab across town was $10.
• The authenticity: This could be an effect of being out of the carribean, where there are so many tourists, but we felt like there were surprisingly few other tourists around. So few, in fact, that we repeatedly saw some of the same travelers in restaurants and bus tours. We spoke Spanish (or least attempted to) with everyone we met, and it was greeted with fast and serious Spanish responses – no one assumed we were simply gringo tourists. (But once they realized, they were happy to be of help and switch to English if possible.)

We spent 5 days in Panama City and there was plenty to do. Here are some of the highlights:

• The Canal: Of course! The sole reason to visit for many. This engineering marvel has a fantastic multi-story visitor center at the Miraflores Locks with viewing decks to watch ships pass. There are roughly 40 transits made per day (at an average toll cost of $140,000!), so there’s and good chance you’ll get to watch one go through if you decide to visit. Tip: skip the movie; it’s not that interesting and already sadly out of date. We chatted with someone who did the crossing on a tourist boat and didn’t recommend it because of how long it takes, and how much of the time is simply spent waiting. Interesting note: they are currently building a very major expansion to the Miraflores Locks they will open by the end of the year. It will allow even larger ships to pass quicker, and reuse water to be less wasteful. You can read more about it here.

• Biomuseo: A new, super cool biodiversity museum designed by Frank Gehry. Unfortunately it was so new that only about 1.5 of the 4 exhibit areas were open, and construction was still going on in the areas around it. Still worth seeing, as the 9-screen surround (floor and ceiling!) Panamarama theatre is in full operation which shows a mini Planet Earth-style film that makes for an incredible experience. (I was the only one there when I saw it, and man was it cool.)

• Casco Viejo: The old town! This is where we should have stayed. Tons of cool colonial buildings, many of which are in the process of being restored into restaurants, cafes, and hotels. We got excellent coffee at the Ace-owned American Trade Hotel – one of the nicest hotels I’ve ever been, anywhere. We had an awesome dinner at the acclaimed Manolo Caracol, and later had beers at La Rana Dorada, a local microbrewery, that were excellent. We drank and took in the city views from the open air rooftop bar at Gatto Blanco. Overall, it was a blast.

Our final night in Panama was a great one for another reason: we got to meet a friend-of-a-friend, Rebecca, who was there on a work trip. We toured the old town with her, shooting portraits in front of buildings and doorways hundreds of times our age. We joined up with her compatriots, Ben and James, and had amazing fish tacos at The Fish Market (a food truck with live music) just down the street from their hotel. After 2 weeks of being with just each other, it was so nice to yam it up with a few new friends.

There are some things we didn’t see, such as the views from the club at the 62nd floor of the Hard Rock Megapolis, but I’m happy to leave that for another time. It also would have been nice to explore some more neighborhoods, but we really needed more of a local guide – the city center felt very disjointed to us.

Because of its downsides, Panama City may not be the fantastic vacation destination some of the Panamanians might have hoped it would be. While it’s not a city I see myself returning to soon, it’s one I do hope I have a reason to visit it again.

After our quick stint in Curaçao we hopped over to Aruba, The Happy Island. Our hostel was quaint and sunny with a small pool and a serious bed upgrade (a king!) from our previous hostel. We were looked after by the owner’s mother, who spoke only Spanish, and would cook breakfast for us in the morning. After settling in, we walked downtown and spent the afternoon strolling along the waterfront, seeing all the glossy, luxury stores contrasted against the slightly dusty and outdated touristed shops.

We ate dinner at The West Deck, which for the fist time on our trip, was completely packed. A popular beach-front shack featuring tapas-style local dishes and fruity cocktails. We enjoyed fungi, fresh grouper, Balashi (the locally brewed beer) and fresh passionfruit margaritas. After watching the so-beautiful-it-looks-fake sunset, we called it a night.

The next day we decided to have a Patrick-day and Maja-day, where we spend time apart to do whatever we want independently. Patrick spent the day finishing and launching the Primaries website with Parakeet, and I arranged an island tour for myself. My tour guide, J, is a cancer surviver, junior architect, motivational speaker, and part time tour guide. After picking me up in his open air Jeep painted like a tiger, we spent the next four hours together circumnavigating the entire island and getting to know each other.

We climbed down a narrow wooden ladder into the Natural Pool at Boca, a small pool of water hidden inside an oceanside cave. We went off-roading through the entire Arikok National Park, plowing over steep rocky paths, each more tumultuous than the next. “It’s like a free massage!” J would yell, as we were slammed from side to side, smiling the entire time.

We stopped at Conchi, another natural pool, which before becoming a swimming area for tourists, was used by fisherman to raise sea turtles until capturing them for food became illegal.

We crawled through the Guadirkiki Caves, filled with native cave paintings, legends of trapped souls, and many, many bats.

We climbed over the Breathing Rocks to hear them sigh as the ocean flowed in and out below them. We explored the Bushiribana Gold Mill Ruins, where 3 million pounds of Aruban gold was processed starting in 1824.

We saw the chapel of Alto Vista which was completed in 1952 and stands on the same location as the original, built in 1750.

We drove by Boca Catalina, the blackstone beach, Eagle beach, and just about every other beach on the island. We drove past the Wish Garden, where thousands of tourists have built cairns, each rock symbolizing one of their greatest wishes as they stack them on top of each other.

We saw both lighthouses, the Northern lighthouse under remodel to allow tourists to climb to the top, and the Southern lighthouse, nothing more than a 8 foot pole with a light in a cage stuck to the top. We stopped at the oceanside pet cemetery, and walked through the hundreds of tiny handmade crosses, carefully painted with names like Fluffy and Tito.

We drove through the different neighborhoods on the island so I could get a feel for “real Aruba, not just tourist Aruba”. We went everywhere from “The Hamptons of Aruba” to the “left behind neighborhoods”, J pointing out restaurant recommendations and soccer fields he likes as we passed.

Completely happy and thoroughly dusty, J dropped me off at the Hyatt Regency where I met Patrick at the pool bar. He had spent the past two hours walking through town and taking pictures of lizards. We scarfed down a quick snack before hopping on the Dolphin for a sunset booze cruise. We sat in the front nets of the catamaran and drank the special, Aruba Ariba (vodka, rum, fruit punch, orange juice, and a splash of whiskey) as we watched the sun go down.

Back on land, we walked along the strip in front of the high rise hotels until we came across Amore Mio, where we enjoyed Napoletana style pizza. Our waiter Michael, wearing some incredible vintage hightop Nikes, gave us suggestions for Bogotá and free limoncello at the end of the night. After a scoop of Ferrero Rocher gelato next door, we headed back to our hostel for the evening.

The following morning we packed up and headed to the Airport for our next stop, Panama City. Overall, Aruba felt really touristy, but with the unbelievably clear water and perfect white sand beaches, I’ll probably return.

Our next stop was Curaçao! The motherland of that vile blue liquor used to add unnatural color to tiki drinks and frat party punches! Patrick drank some right away.

Curaçao is part of the ABC islands bringing up the rear behind Aruba and Bonaire. It is autonomous within the Kingdom of Netherlands which means it can take whatever cute Dutch stuff it wants and leave all the other junk behind. Curaçao has rows upon rows of adorable Dutch style buildings beautifully painted with bright, pastel colors.

We stayed right by the harbor which is home to two iconic bridges, the Queen Emma and Queen Juliana. The Queen Emma is a footbridge, floating in the water to allow people to traverse back and forth between the two sides of the harbor. When a boat needs to get through, the bridge pivots off one side and swiftly sweeps open 90 degrees so the boat can travel past. Like the magical staircases at Hogwarts. Naturally, Patrick and I sat and watched the bridge swing open and shut a number of times. The locals call the bridge The Swinging Old Lady. What a sense of humor.

The Queen Juliana bridge boasts to be the tallest in the Caribbean at 185’ tall. It’s pretty neat, but not as neat as the bridge that swings open.

Curaçao is hot. Upon landing and again clearing customs and immigration alarmingly fast (no words were spoken) we sweated our way through the 20 minute cab ride to our hostel. Driving down the dry, bright, and colorful roads we passed dozens of slightly rundown roadside strip malls filled with weird stores that I desperately wanted to visit. For example we passed a furniture store that featured children’s bunkbeds shaped like firetrucks and boats and I thought, “How cute, I love bunkbeds!”.

We arrived at our hostel, The Ritz, because when we came across it online we said, “Wouldn’t it be so funny if we…” and we did. The Ritz used to be an ice cream factory and was restored with a brightly colored exterior, sweet little pool area, and pool bar. A friendly staff member in his faded pink Ritz polo led us to our room (private double with ensuite bathroom) where we were greeted with, get ready for it, bunkbeds. And not like, “Oh! Bunkbeds!” like, “Oh… bunkbeds.”

We left the hostel in search of food, and quickly settled into a nice waterfront bar/tourist trap called the Iguana Bar or something. We were joined by loads of squishy cruise ship passengers, lanyards swinging proudly around their necks, as they went lumbering by to catch the ferry back to their mothership. Of course, Patrick and I spent the rest of our lunch discussing how badly we wanted to go on a cruise and where should we go and when and so on. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking along the waterfront and surrounding streets before closing out the night splitting six tiny Polar beers and spaghetti at our pool bar.

Saturday we went exploring. I wanted to try the Cafe Copacabana for lunch and with a lot of luck (none of the streets are labeled) we found it. We enjoyed Amstel Brights (not a typo) and sandwiches while seated in a beautiful square intersection of four alleyways with colorful murals on the walls.

We visited the Maritime Museum and tried to visit the Postal Museum and Kura Hulanda Museum (both were closed).

We walked through the oldest synagogue in the western hemisphere with a sand floor, which was preparing for a wedding that night. The security guard, with a hand gun loosely tucked in his pants pocket, explained it was another American couple who was flying here to get married in the synagogue. “It’s always Americans,” he sighed.

We walked through the floating market, where the fish and vegetables are so fresh they don’t even unload them off the boats. The proprietors just pull up in the harbor and you can buy right off the boat.

After the cruise ships left the town emptied a considerable amount. Everywhere we’ve been has felt really, really empty. We’re wondering if it’s offseason? Or Zika scared everyone? Either way, both St. Martin and Curaçao have been really quiet.

That evening we hopped in a cab to go a few miles down the beach to check out the Kontiki Beach Resort. It was gorgeous. We took a self guided tour through the hotel property and marveled at the millions of dollars of ferns, palms, and giant flowering tropical plants the resort had installed to add privacy and ambiance to the beautiful “rooms”. I say “rooms” because they were like mansion versions of the Robinson Curuso treehouse. Sprinkled in were beautiful saltwater pools, connect via a narrow stream covered in stone footbridges. This place was stunning.

We kept walking until we found the hotel restaurant, which was dead. It looked closed. It was 6:30pm, on a Saturday, we were a resort bar and there is no one else there. When the waiter asked us if we had a reservation I almost snorted. The food was awful, even the wine was bad, and we quickly departed. We walked along the beach to the neighboring resort which was more like a small city.  Every shopping whim, style of restaurant (sushi, indian, pizza, BBQ, crepes, Dutch, American, etc) and activity (everything from design your own flip flops to a real tattoo shop) were provided so the guests would never have to leave the property. I was surprised to find I was looking forward to returning to our dinky little hostel.

The next morning after breakfast (Patrick ordered The Canadian complete with pancakes and maple syrup, of course) we packed up and shipped out to the airport. Overall I enjoyed Curaçao. There was a ton of the island we didn’t see, but based on our small taste I think we’d prefer to explore another Caribbean island before heading back.

Sunday night after a 30 minute delay at the airport we departed on our first flight to JFK. After landing at 6:30am, we grabbed some muffins and got in line for our next flight to St. Maarten. Before we could take off, three drunk passengers were removed from the plane for “harassing other passengers on the jetway”. After they, and their bags, were removed we headed out onto the runway. We were ready to take off when the pilot made an announcement that one of the drunkards had left one of their bags onboard, and for safety, we would be returning to the gate to hand it over. You have to appreciate vacationers so drunk at 9am they can’t keep track of their luggage or common sense.

Our landing into St. Maarten was cinematic. The plane almost clipping the tops of the tall palm trees lining Maho Beach, where tourists stand in hopes of being knocked off their feet by the jet blasts. Apparently this makes for a pretty great Youtube.

Customs took 15 seconds, I don’t even think we went through immigration, and we were quickly in a cab on our way to Grand Case on the other side of the island. St. Martin is split in two halves, the Dutch side (where the airport and cruise ships land) and the French side (where our hotel was). Our cab driver, Tony, upon hearing it was our first time to the island, berated us with with “What is wrong with you?” not accepting our typical excuses of “we’ve never had the time!” and “it’s far from where we live!” until we gave up and told him we were just dumb, irrational people. This answer he accepted.

We pulled onto Grand Case Boulevard, a beautiful road sprinkled with idillic restaurants, tiny bodegas, and local clothing stores. The buildings, once brightly colored, were beautifully faded and patinaed by the weather.

Our hotel, The Love Hotel (when we were booking this name made me cringe, but by the end of our stay I began to, well, love it) was a perfect small beach-front property. With white walls and dark wood furniture, it stood out to us as the gem of the beach. It was modern, unpretentious, and relaxed. One of the owners, Muriel, showed us to our cozy room, separated from the beach by only a tiny rickety staircase. Open the large sliding exterior door and the beach was right there.

We spent the next few days taking walks on the beach and exploring Grand Case. We would go to the hotel’s beach front bar most mornings for breakfast, in the afternoon for happy hour, and occasionally for dinner. We visited the local BBQ shack “The Talk of the Town” twice, dined in two upscale french restaurants (Grand Case is the culinary center of the island) and on our last night ate the best pizza I’ve ever had at a beach-front diner called Bulldog.

Patrick enjoyed bottles of Carib, the local beer (brewed in Trinidad and Tobago) which describes itself as “…a balanced, full-bodied and distinctively smooth lager that takes ‘refreshing’ to another level.’” I sampled a number of strange “house made rums” which as far as I can tell were made by locals put rum into a bottle, adding some other ingredients and then calling it “house made”. The strangest of all being Guavaberry Rum. A local legend, made on the island, from oak aged rum, cane sugar, and wild guavaberries. It does not taste at all like berries, but instead is kind of woody and bitter, like grapes mixed with Fernet.

We explored the Dutch side of the island, which felt like a cuter version of Fishermans Wharf in San Francisco, and hiked to Happy Beach, a beautiful secluded beach 30 minutes from our hotel. We had drinks in Friar’s Bay, at a beach bar where I could have easily spent the entire week.

St. Martin was beautiful, picturesque, and relaxing. It was the perfect way to start the trip, and I definitely want to go back.