finnish sauna at the northern edge of California

While our America's Best Value Inn room was already really nice - who would expect that - this magnificent spot in California's most northern larger populated area named Crecent City even offered a Spa including a chaccousi and a sauna.
Since it is actually chilly up north here, especially at the rough Pacific coast, we were so going to do some sauning. In the early evening, the whole spa located in between the parking lots was ours. My mum, an experienced saunist, was little concerned about missing but essential features like sufficient towels, towel wracks and the lack of nudity. It is really weird to sit in a sauna wearing a swim suits. But hey, its complementary and it was actually pretty nice ... until THEY came.
They were a typical (I did not say that!) US-American end of forties couple and obviously not so sauna experienced. Wearing full rope, they first climbed into the jaccousi, puffing and blowing. Later on, we had to share the sauna with'em. "It is gonna get a full house in here, ehu", the guy said entering the small room, soaked and dripping all over. Way better even was the entering of her. When she placed her butt on the wooden bench, the sound was like pouring a 10 gallon bucket from the 5 th floor on the street. Seriously, I think not only her pants and underwear was pressed out, but also other parts back there. Ok, so were they sitting there eventually. "Baby, I don't remember when I had a real good swet the last time". That was him, and I had the hardest time not laughing when imagining him doing sweaty activities - or not doing them, as he said. My mum just left after them entering and I followed her, not hearing what he actually said about his last real good swet experience, which he apparently remembered - in presence of his girlfriend/wife.
Oh, the sauna was brought to us buy Finnlandia Sauna. Thank you!

it's getting hot out here

While describing my dune climb in the Mojave Desert, there would be no way doing this in one of the hottest places, Death Valley. We slept in sight of the highest thermometer in the world (yes, they do it biiig), which measures 134 feet. The equivalent temperature (56°C) was measured in 1937 or so. And really, it is insanely hot. When standing inside the Park, in the large valley of death, there is a constant wind, which feels exactly like a huge hair blower directed at you. Still, facing 116°F, I barely ever swet, which is so nice. However, physical excercise is torture. You cant stand any ten minutes outside without a bottle of water in front of your mouth. In the center of the valley, Bad Water is the lowest elevation in the Western Hemisphere (who the heck knows what this exactly is?), - 78 m below see level. Few miles away, mountains as high as 2800 meters arise. Star Wars and many other movies were shot here, which makes perfect sense considering the the moon like rock formations.
After driving and walking through heat and dryness (around 0 % humidity, 6 cm precipitation per year in average) an ice cold beer at Furnace Creek oasis (well chosen name!) feels sooo good.
To further illustrate the present heat, it is interesting to see that "cold" water from the tab is still so warm, that even I take ice in it, which does not last long melting in minutes. Warm tab water is therefore as steamy hot, that you can easily prepare a tea right away, true story.
In the information and visitor centers everywhere around the parks, friendly staffs welcome you, giving true advice about what to see and do. And there is free stuff everywhere, wifi in the middle of nowhere. One lady in a flea market store in tiny Shoshone, which is a really cute place with 47 (?) inhabitants at the entrance to Death Valley, was so excited about our visit, that she felt like giving us one of the self painted travel bags crafted by herself.
Driving and climbing up the sourrunding mountains in Death Valley brings cooler Temperatures. Actually, at around 2200 m hight, it gets already chilly, in the middle of the desert. At the trail head in a remote valley, 7 charcole kilns (Holzkohle Meiler) from 1879 (!) are still standing there like being in use, since they had only produced charcole for 3 years. Such relicts of the times of gold rush can be found all over the place, and its impressive to imagine how people have been living under such severe conditions more than hundrets of years ago.

acknowledgement

Thank you, America (and I mean the USA, sorry all other Americas) for creating the National Parks all over the nation. It seems like one of your best achievements (besides free drinking fountains and beverage refills). Everything is kept really neat, the park roads seem to be in better condition than in the rest of the country. There are abundant and nice rest areas, toilets even at the most remote trail head. It also feels safe, I do not feel terrified of being shot around the next corner (just kidding). I want to conclude with a citation to the US citizens, which is most likely both incomplete and altered without indication. Also I forgot the : "Welcome home. The National Parks are all yours. Come and discover the rich variety of these lands connect with it. It is the land, the connects all of us." (I ll try to find the true statement, since such a statement by unknown author is admittedly little pointless. Its my effort to give my blog more substance. And I know I fail, but I ll keep trying. Hope thats not what they ll write on my grave stone at the end of my days, though.)

the story of the tortoise

I really wanna share the story of a small desert inhabitant with hard crust but soft inside. Theses tortoises live up to 80 years and are capable of surviving without water for more than a year. This is possible due to their uberbladder, which retains liquid and makes it reaccessible for the tortoise's metabolism. Isn't that amazing? However, not everything in their life is as easy as it sounds like. Desert tortoises suffer from a mean enemy, know as man. Such one approaching a tortoise or even touching it, can terrify the latter in such a way, that it urinates, loosing too much liquid to survive until the next rain. Poor thing.

singing dunes

The desert - my associations went from dry, hot and sandy to completely dead. But what is a desert actually like? dry is right, as learned in school as the most important characteristic of a desert. Everything else is not really correct.
Mojave Desert Reserve is a huge stretch of land, we drove over 300 miles in and around it, not even having seen all the highlights. Landscapes change widely, from dry lake bassins to granite mountains and volcanic cinder cones. There are also the only singing dunes, which sometimes make a deep brumming sound as sand avalanches roll down the slopes setting sand particles in vibration. Hiking up a dune is hard, but it is beautiful (but dont forget, its also hard). Equipped with a thick layer of sunscreen, a shirt hat, sunglasses and WATER (2 liters per hour) we headed to the base of the dunes. Since my dear mum chose to enjoy the view from the bottom, I continued on my own, let alone with only the sun and the sand. It was steep, and sandy, thats what probably describes a dune best. As soon as reaching the edge, which forms a perfectly sharp line, there is great view over a huge, plaine bassin, surrounded by dark mountains in the far distance.

from Rivas, Nicaragua to Panama City in 36 hours

4:00 am: We get up in our hostel at playa Santa Domingo on Las Islas de Ometepe - doesnt feel that bad, actually.
5:00 am: The journey begins: The ATV cab picks us up to bring us to the ferry terminal on the other side of the island. On the road, which is mostly unpaved, really unpaved, we pass chickens, two and more people on one bike and women carrying their goods on their heads on their way to work, abandoned horses, but no other cars.
6:00 am: Ferry ride to San Carlos del Sol, not as exciting as the one to the Island two days ago, when we were barely able to climb back down from the third deck via a tiny ladder in pretty heavy weather.
7:15 am: Cab ride to the bus pick-up in Rivas. Yes, we succeed in negotiating the price and get one dollar discount, probably still paying too much.
8:00 am: The first Tica Bus passes by, which we did not take since it seemed a too tight schedule. Therefore breakfast at a local gas station.
9:00 am: We climb on Tica Bus excecutive class destination San Jose, Costa Rica.
11:00 am: Arrival at Costa Rican boarder.
12:30 pm: It did not feel fast to stand in line twice at the boarder control offices as well as at the baggage check, but we eventually make it back into Costa Rica.
6:30 pm: Arrival in San Jose, Costa Rica. The impression we get of the small area of city, in which we look for an internet cafe, is really positive, and maybe I have to reevaluate my Costa Rica opinion.
9:30 pm: We leave the internet place, which officially closes at 6 pm on sundays. Long live the Costa Rican pura vida! However, both of us feel slightly sick and we are afraid the diarrhea on a bus ride night mare might come true. Some US fast food chain food helps a little.
10:30 pm: Boarding bus number two with destination Panama City. We find a small pillow and a blanket and the cup holders and tilting tables are actually there - excecutive class.
4:30 am: Panamanian boarder. Not too bad, we already made quite some way and slept in the bus. But wait, why is there nobody in the migration office?
6:15 am: Panamanian boarder. Despite having taken some breakfast in a shabby boarder restaurant, nothing has happened at all. We are waiting.
7:00 am: Yes, we proceeded to the Panamanian side of the boarder. Only one more line at their migration office, and we can continue our ride.
7:45 am: Finally at the counter, we are told that we need to show a valid return ticket from Panama, otherwise no entrance permit. We buy a ticket from our bus driver. Do Tica Bus and the boarder control collaborate secretly?
8:15 am: Everybody takes their luggage out of the bus belly and carries them into a circular room, where two gentlemen from the boarder control manually check every bag. One of them is really excited of the first aid kit in my back back and wants to know what pills are for which purpose. He is particularly interested in the emergency light stick in the box, which he really seems to want to unwrap and incent. He does not.
9:15 am: Ok, nobody said, that passing two boarders in Central America in one day would be easy, but more than 4.5 hours for one boarder crossing is ridiculeous. Whatever, we are back on the road, moving.
11:00 am: Police control number two in the middle of nowhere. May passport has never been grabbed as many times before.
5:00 pm: With only two hours delay we arrive eventually in Panama City, yippiee yeah yippie yippie yeah. The next days will show, if this journey was worth it, but I am already pretty confinced. Panama City has the vibes.

on the back of a horse

Who would have imagined, that I would end up on the back of a horse - not me. Starting with a slow trek on a rather skinny horse in the highlands of Costa Rica, I quickly became more comfortable on the horse back, though still not quite as much as on my wire donkeys (Drahtesel). The cross-country-mobility of these animals is fabulous. After reaching the highest spot of our guide´s family´s finca, we played some soccer: Finland, Costa Rica and Germany vs. the francophones from France and Belgium. Sure thing that we wone.

Despite some gymnastics and two small running parts, the ride was comfortably slow. However, the real thrill is running with the horse. Loosen the reins and put spores on your horse (it is not quite as violent as it sounds) and the ride gets faster. Fortunately, there is a lot of empty space on the beaches of the biggest Islands in the Lago de Nicaragua, las Islas dee Ometepe. You really need this space during your run, and you might still sometimes come close to tree branches above you, from which you need to crouch down biting into your horse's mane.

Yes,  galloping is really fast and a lot of fun. Bruises, skin irritations and the "cowboy walk" the next day might be results of your riding. Still, you should try, it is surely worth it. 

Nicaragua - there we go

After one week in the country of the rich coasts, we arrive in its northern neighbour, Nicaragua. It takes altogether 10 hours and 4 different chicken busses  (they seem to have their name from their use as carriers of these animals, and indeed there are two Nicas in our bus with two little chickens in a plastic bag, strechting out only their heads through two holes) to finally arrive in Granada at Lago de Nicaragua.

And yes, it is so good to be here. Admittedly, the beginning was kind of rough since we waited true 1.5 hours in line for getting our entrance stamp at the migracion office. Also, these five random guys insanely yelling at us at every bus change location to come to their bus, as if it was the last chance our lifes to get away from there, was somehow scary.  Not to mention the fear we had to suffer to loose our luggage, which we had to hand to somebody on the bus' roof.

Nevertheless, Nicaragua is great and it feels so much more autentic than Costa Rica ever did. Granada seems to be an extraordinary piece of Nicaragua, with its nicely preserved colonial architecture, narrow street with street vendors, horse pulled carriages and bicycles manned with at least two people.  Behind the barred doors, large yards hide offering hammoks, gardens and an increadible relaxing atmosphere. One could easily spend days just hanging out in the various cafes. It actually reminds me quite a bit of my Venezuela trip (greetings to poison ivy). Though, the feel of permanent fear is not there. It is generally really safe around here.

Still to come: Laguna de Apoyo, Volcan Mombacho, Islas the Tempete. And, who would have ever imagined: Panama City and the adjacent Canal.

norteamericanos - a winking hit from the side

A word about the Americans from the United States visiting Costa Rica, which might be of interest for Americans as well as other people potentially interested in traveling to this central american country. Please be aware, that this is my personal, biased point of view.

If you are generally afraid of being considered one of the typical US American tourists, maybe have a look at other countries around Costa Rica when planning your trip to Central America. I dont want to discourage you from traveling here, but there is a ridiculous amount of US tourists, pretty much all over the country. It seems to be a good idea to come to Costa Rica from the US, since flights are cheap. For this reason there are many groups of young Americans being - I am afraid to say this - very American in their behaviour. I do not generally dislike latter, since I had a great time in the last year in Atlanta. However, being in a different country now, it seems somewhat strange to me to see them here, outside their natural habitat, playing their role very well.

If you want to avoid being considered the stereotype of your people, maybe you wanna read the following well-intentioned advise: 

First of all, do not try the old-wive's tale of the Canadian tourist. Doesnt every conscious US American try that? Instead, try to adapt to local habits, use some spanish where you can and avoid phrases like "thank you so much for everything, I really appreciate". "Muchas Gracias" or "Pura Vida" go so much better I believe.

Costa Rica - pura vida o puro tourismo?

It is now the fourth day that we spend in Costa Rica. Somehow it feels like being here already for a while, maybe since we have already been staying at three different places: Straight from the airport we went to Alajuela, where we stayed in a very artsy hotel run by a local artist. Streets were filled with vendors, honking cars and motorcycles and lots of people, just like you might imagine the life style in a central american city.

After some internet research, we figured out a bus connection to the small mountain village La Fortuna. 6.50 am was the time to go. Since there is no daylight saving time, sun rises around 5.30 am so everybody seems to be an early bird. Although we new the theoretical departure location of our bus, we got lost between the five or more bus terminals spread out all over the city. Eventually, a friendly bus driver gave us a private ride in his bus to the right terminal - very nice.

Three and a half hours later, we arrived in La Fortuna. At first seeming like a nice, peaceful village at the foot of one of the many volcanos in Costa Rica, this place turned out to be an infernal tourist trap: one (tourist adjusted) adventures offering company lined up after the other, and scaming hoteliers all over the place. Right when we got out of the bus, and I mean right when touching down on the street, an especially eager hostel owner grasped us and would not stop advertising his hotel showing pictures of the great rooms, the breakfast buffet and more extras. He did not understand that we were deciding on our accomodation ourselves. I was already fed up with the place and never really recovered from the general atmosphere lacking any authenticity.

However, an active volcano is something exciting. Proudly presenting: Volcano Paoz! Besides dozens of spas around town using thermal water pumped from the ground, there is a natural hot spring, which is basically a small river heated up to 40 degree celsius (feeling like even more) by a subsurface lava stream. This is marvellous! And people for some reason prefer the artificial hot springs, so it is quiet as well.

Since Paoz has been spitting lawa constantly since its last big erruption in 1969, we went to see the lawa's glow at night. Although we had a clear view - which is not too often the case - the volcano would not want to be too active that night. It would have still been a beautiful experiencel, if the miraculosity of the place would not have been slightly destroyed by vast masses of tourists joining. A constant stream of mini busses arrived at the small spot, where the view to the mountain seemed to be best. I believe most people still liked it.

goodbye, Atlantans

Or the speech I did not give the last night at Rocky Mountains.

How fast can one year, or more exactly 356 days, pass by? I had a really good time in Atlanta, and I am so glad to have done this exchange. Atlanta is a fun city, not just for the sake of its own, but because of the people living there. Thanks to everybody who contributed to my US-America experience. In my report, I will write that I "personally and academically grew in ways, that had never been possible without the experience of studying abroad". To you, Atlantans, I will just say I had a blast! Especially the last night, when almost everybody came for saying goodbye, made leaving Atlanta not any easier.

Thanks!

fuh2

Introducing the all new official Hummer H2 salute. Handcrafted and appropriate at any time. Many more pictures of this kind here.

mass up!

Atlanta is such a motor city, with its seven lane per direction highway through the center of the city, its thousands of parking garages, car adapted services such as drive through diners, postboxes and banks and underdeveloped bike and pedestrian ways.

However, once a month, up to four hundred alternatives, hipsters, ecos and the cool kids take over the power in the streets of Atlanta. It is so much fun, see by yourself. Oh and dont think that there would be generally so little excitement. The video is shot right after a (undesired) break at traffic lights. Happy friday!

happy fourth

I am so happy and greatful for having had the opportunity to celebrate this probably most important holiday worldwide amongst the one nation under god: The INDEPENDENCE day.

To the right you can see me in front of a store, which is closed to the honor of July 4th in Athens, Georgia.

God bless America.

pants off

In the very beginning, when I had not been aware of the difference between pants and shorts, I thought people would go ride the subway naked. I was really thinking whether I should be that brave. Realizing to be in slightly prude America made me understand that pantfree subway riding would be enough braveness. The system developed by the gobi lumberjacks, a group, which does improve theater in public, is really smart:

Two random subsequent trains of the Atlanta 'marta' subway are picked. The front one is the with pant train, the one following is the pantfree one. After entering the first train, station by station some improvlers exit having taken off their pants right before the train stops. It seems already weird to see some people waiting at the platform pantfree, but it is even weirder to see more and more pantfree 'marta' riders entering the train. "Why do you guys not wear pants??" some confused coriders ask. "Oh, I don't know the story of those other people, but I was in a terrible rush this morning so I just forgot to put on my pants."

The atlanta journal constitution had a (pant wearing ) journalist aboard and reported.

english as first language

Though english is not my mother tongue, it became the blog's tongue. no worries, there is no such thing as licking through the screen. However, there are many reasons for choosing english, for example the reasoning that why should it not be it. More importantly, it allows the world to read this, following the theme from world citizens for world citizens. Another reason is the limitation of german and other languages in terms of expressions for amasement. There is no equivalent word for 'awesome', so there cannot be an appropriate description of my experiences abandoning english. Of course, you will see use of german, especially when gossiping about specific people or peoples in general that have not acquired the power of german language. thank you for your understanding.

this is how it started

Like every well written text, I will start this one with a definition of the title. I guess 'atlanta' and 'blog' are pretty obvious, if you consider that I have been in atlanta since last august and this is a blog. to really understand the meaning of the word 'after' in this context, I give some references below.

(1) Meaning following in position or time

synonyms: afterwards, back, back of, behind, below,ensuing, hind, hindmost, in the rear, later, next,posterior, postliminary, rear, subsequential,subsequently, succeeding, thereafter

antonyms: before

source http://thesaurus.reference.com

(2) The state you are in after you party, usually the next morning. Generally an awful look and feeling are present.

Richard: "Damn, John, you look so after."

John: "I feel after...anyway hand me a beer."

source http://www.urbandictionary.com

(3) A German word meaning anus. One to avoid when engaging in conversation with Berliner society matrons.

In spite of many years spent living in New York City, Hans (ever polite) still approached the word "after" with trepedation, still connecting it with both his mother tongue, and his nether regions.

source http://www.urbandictionary.com