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I've established already that "thrill seeking" isn't exactly part of my vocabulary. So, while everyone else seemed to go to Monteverde, Costa Rica, to zipline or bungee jump, I preferred to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. So, instead of flying through the trees at top speeds, I chose to take my time, hiking the Cloud Forest Reserve for a good five hours. Half the time, it rained, and the other half the wind blew the raindrop reserves from the trees. I was mostly alone, choosing to go slower, or veer off another direction anytime I saw someone...

Don't go to Little Corn. Because years ago the locals didn't even need money. Because years ago the men catching lobsters would hand them off for free. Don't go to Little Corn. Because it's the kind of place where you need a flashlight to see your way back to your bungalow after 6pm. Don't go to Little Corn. Because there are no streets, there are no cars, there are no motorcycles, there are no golf carts. Don't go to Little Corn. Because there is only power for half of the day. Less when it storms. Don't go to Little Corn. Because the bars there are almost entirely filled with...

I stayed in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, for eight nights. That was, maybe, seven nights longer than I needed to but, in that time, I went to some beaches, went to some bars, had a little fun. Really, though, the only reason I stayed in San Juan del Sur for as long as I did was because I wanted to stay for Sunday, and, therefore, stay for the infamous, debaucherous, weekly event backpackers drool over: the Sunday Funday Pool Crawl. Sunday. Funday. Pool. Crawl. Sunday Funday in San Juan del Sur is kind of like a bar crawl in that...

I've determined two things about my desire to be a surfer: 1. I need to take more lessons. 2. I need a bathing suit that isn't broken. Because I can't stand up on a board. No matter how hard I try. And because the straps broke off my bathing suit back in Caye Caulker and the waves in Hermosa were so strong that my top ended up around my waist. (No worries, I put on a tank top...

My hostel in Ometepe had a 13-drink drinking challenge that was free for all guests on their fourth night. I wasn't really all that keen on attempting it but all my friends were doing it (peer pressure, anyone?) and, if nothing else, I figured I could stop after the first few and get drunk for free. In actuality two of the drinks weren't drinks. But since I'm "pure" as one of the guys put it the lovely bartender mixed me a couple of extra drinks for those rounds instead. And she might have promised me that she'd make me weaker drinks...

Isla de Ometepe is an island on Lake Nicaragua formed by two volcanoes: Concepción and Maderas. As we sailed up to the port, smoke rising from the cavity, I knew it was a place I could fall in love with. By day, the omnipresent volcanoes loom over the landscape. At sunset, they silhouette against a sky so purple, so pink, so yellow. At night everything goes dark and you can look across a field sparkling with thousands of firefly tails. It all feels so romantic and humbling and calming and enchanting. ...

Sometimes you are really not in the mood for a tour. You just want to sit back, chat with friends, enjoy the bountiful scenery. But sometimes your tour guide doesn't really get it. And she dresses you up in traditional clothing. And she continues to talk even though no one is listening. And when you ask for a few minutes of silence she starts to whisper. And when you ask the boat driver to go faster she seems iffed. And then she starts to sing. For no reason but to pass the time...