Ecuador

Last week I arrived, and caught a bus to this little surf town on the coast, full of strange hippies and lost travelers, good surfing and too much partying. Surfed a few times with this cool Costa Rican guy but the waves sort of sucked. All was well until I went drinking with a bunch of wild kids from Israel, eating good cheap food, running around on the beach, and dancing until the morning light pierced our eyes. It must have lowered my immune system because after that day I became horribly sick. For a week straight it felt like a jack-hammer was continuously going off in my head, my body was quickly changing from freezing cold sweats to hot hellfire sweats, my tonsils are trying to kiss each other coated in white infection, my stomach felt full and bloated even though I hadn’t eaten anything for 5 days, and what I did eat wouldn´t come out the back door like it should of. I didn´t even feel like my self, some other being had taken over me; people tried to talk to me and all I could do was vaguely try to look at them like a dying refugee and cough and hack a nasty noise instead of saying words. Death felt like the best option. Wow, the joys of traveling, fun for all families, good times.

South Bound

Today I'm in Santa Cruz, back at the House of the Goddess'. Roberto lives with three beautiful/wild women. I've realized in life that those two characteristics seem to be fairly present in women at the same time. It's a good thing I guess; I'd rather have it that way than: ugly and dull. So anyway, I've been here for the past 10 days, acclimating to the brisker California weather and ending the Master Cleanse I had been doing during my last days in Hawaii. I've realized a huge concept while on the cleanse/fast: there is a big difference between actually needing food and eating out of boredom. My stories of pissing out my ass in the mornings really must have moved something in Roberto, because now he has started the cleanse. I taught him all I know and now leave him to his own porcelain parties. Tomorrow I'm gone; leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again, ooo babe I hate to let you go. I'm no Jonny Denver (is that correct, did he write that?), but I know I must more on. There is a real underlying urge to explore and travel that resides within the human psyche, and some people have it "worse" than others; to each their own, but for me I crave that distant human connection, that awkward culture shock, the foreign accents, the jonny-two-steps with no bathroom in sight, the international friendships, the exotic food, the joys of the moment, the freedom to go, the freedom to stay, the insight into our own fucked up culture juxtaposed against a sustainable self-sufficient village tucked peacefully between the mountains; I crave that freedom in travel.

Soon I will be in Ecuador, but I have no clue what the hell I'm going to do after that. That's as far as my plans have gone. Wandering in the States is jolly and fun, but wandering in another country with no return ticket is even more fun. But fun and adventure are in cohorts with danger and sorrow, they're all drinking the same drink and skinning the same cat (by the way there is more than one of doing that). My tentative, fuzzy, maybe-gunna-happen, long term plan is to travel around in Ecuador, Bolivia, and Peru, then head down the coast of Chile to Santiago to see my good friend Matt, and then maybe end up in Argentina teaching english to smoking hot super models drinking Yerba Mate and dancing erotic tango in the streets of Buenos Aries; but we'll see.

So, I just want to say: If this trip proves fatal I want you all to know that I love you dearly and have been so grateful to know you in this beautiful LIFE. (Whom ever the hell you are. I'm not even sure anyone even checks this thing. I could just be talking to my self. So in that case, thank you Walker for being me, you have kept me company when I've needed you most and made me laugh when I felt like crying. And I apologize that everyone fucking associates you with Chuck Noris. You've been good to me so far, enjoy your self Walker.)


P.S. I have made a very conscious decision not to bring my camera to South America, for many cultural and personal reasons, so I apologize for the lack of pictures that wont come.