His: Lima, Peru

Peru was one of those places we’ve always had on our bucketlist…strictly for Machu Picchu, but we put it off our first time around the world because we thought it was overdone or wouldn’t be as good as people say. Just felt a little too “mandatory” as a destination for us, so we dodged it with no regret.

We arrived from Colombia and stayed in Lima for 2 weeks, and ate our way through the city. The food is insanely good, and we ate ourselves physically ill everyday. We had no idea, but Lima is the 3 time and current “Best Food Destination” in the world. http://www.peru.travel/en-au/what-to-do/Peru-of-today/food/awards/worlds-best-culinary-destination.aspx  That says a lot considering that, generally, I’m extremely bored by the food in South America - the flavors are so bland and NOTHING is spicy.  Coming from Jamaica, the land of jerk, basically everything in SA tastes like damp cardboard to me.  But in Peru, and specifically Lima, they do food really well.  French, Italian, Spanish, American, Japanese, you name it - and they Peruvify it; adding in seafoods, lime, incredible chutneys, breads, omm non nommmmm!  Bring your spork and adult diapers when you visit lima.  

Best Places to Eat in Lima:

Sandwiches (all day & late night) - La Lucha

Dinner/Lunch (Heavy): El 10 Carnes Y Vinos (Miraflores)

Dinner (Ceviche/Sea): Punto Azul (puntoazulrestaurante.com)

We partied a fair bit too much, in true A&A nature. One night on the way home from Barranco at around 2am, we were thoroughly marinated and acquired our ceremonial sloppy melty greasy late-night food. We took it to go, cause duh.  As we merrily floated along the sidewalk, we took notice of a guy and girl walking towards us and made a mutual decision (without verbal corroboration) that they need to try our delicious food.  We both start blabbering what was probably incomprehensible, but to us sounded like — YOOOOO YOU NEED TO TRY THIS, IT’S SO GOOD, WALK RIGHT IN THERE, BUY IT, IT’S CHEAP AND IT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY.  They say nothing as we shout hot breath into the air, but give each other a few looks. Four steps later, we’re face to face and Adrienne offers a bite of her sandwich up into the ether, and the girl looked at us sideways for half a second, just assessing whether or not this was actually happening, and then squared right up and took a monster bite out of it. Bad ass. I love a good stranger with no regard for normalcy. "Ok, bye now!" And off we went home.  Little did we know, we’d meet these people again 2 days later waiting inline at the airport for the same flight, then getting delayed, then just joining in waiting misery together, an hour goes by, our flight get canceled and we discover that the next flight is 24 hours later, then we obviously decided to book an airbnb together and become best friends for life. Big ups Cassidy & Peter! See people, when you feed people, miracles happen.  Next time, give a stranger a bite of your 3am shawarma.

Apart from eat and drink, we visited some old pyramid-like ruins in the middle of the city (yeah, WTF?! pyramid-ish things made of mud bricks from the year ~700ish right in the middle of Lima!!!).  Google Huaca Pucllana, why is this not a thing?

If you’re in Lima, definitely check out John F. Kennedy Park after eating at the greatest sandwich shop in the entire universe, La Lucha (see above), and then put down a few Pisco sours (THE Peruvian Drink) at any adjacent watering hole. I promise you, when you see what we saw, your jaw will drop, and you’ll likely waste a couple of hours playing on the ground wandering around this park.  HUNDREDS OF STRAY CATS.  HUNDREDS.  And not your standard issue eastern Mediterranean mangey wild feline, these are beautiful, well fed and groomed cats…so wtf are they doing here? People don’t want their cat anymore (cause, duh, who would want a cat?  It’s a decision that you’ll regret after 6 months of everything getting peed on.) and the just bring it here and leave it.  And EVERYBODY takes care of these cats, the park is filled with locals petting and sitting with them, feeding them cat food, playing with them.  It’s so weird, but I like it.  It’s like an instant stress reliever when you walk into this part, sit on a bench and 20 cats cuddle up to you for warmth and love.  You finally matter to someone, for this first time if your life, you matter.  Haha. We don’t really like cats (we had to evict one after 8 months of cohabitation in SF a few years back, but we found it a great home where it still is.  We named our cat “Cat,” no joke.)

Go to Lima, eat and drink your face off, and touch cats.  The End.

His & Hers: COCA-Lombia

We never intended on going to Colombia, but we had heard from 75% of the people we’ve met on the road that Colombia was their favorite country to visit. We heard the partying was phenomenal, the people were lovely and the sights were incredible. Three things we really can’t say "no" to. So, we made it first priority when we got back to South America and we definitely struck out.

Colombia was pretty vanilla. You can find the hidden gems, but in our experience, it’s generally not worth going out of your way for. We spent 6 weeks in 3 different cities (Medellin, Bogota, and Cartagena) and all we can say is, its OK. Our biggest mistake was not going into the jungle or villages. We didn’t get to trek into the wilderness due to obvious reasons (werk), but from what we saw and experienced, it wasn’t very flavorful or exciting- from the food to the people to the architecture and nightlife.

We decided to spice things up with some adventure activities and float around the Medellin sky like Katy Perry's plastic bag. We went paragliding at 10AM after just a few hours of sleep and silly amounts of partying. The drive to the gliding point made us both ill, but we survived. Nobody told us we had to walk up the mountain of doom to get there. Evil walk, but we did it. Twenty minutes after we got to the take off spot, we were in the air. We were flying. It was simply magical. We each had great pilots who pointed out historical sites or important Colombian places and when we requested it, did the most bonkers air tricks. There’s really nothing like rapidly and tightly spinning in the air when you’re so high up that you can’t even spot the humans and animals below. It’s like skydiving, but slower and you actually have time to take in the scenery. We flew over the city and hilly greenery for 20 minutes before Andrew realized he was either going to shit or puke on his pilot, so that was the end of that. :)

Paragliding in Medellin, Colombia shortly before @HeyHeyAndrew went Green :)

Paragliding in Medellin, Colombia shortly before @HeyHeyAndrew went Green :)


Our recommendation for Colombia: Don’t do what we did. Don’t stay in cities, go out out out and experience the wildlife that we missed. Someday, we’ll give that highly regarded country another go. When we’re not in need of wifi and civilization, of course.

Oh, yeah, you know Pablo Escobar, right? Well, next time you see us, remind us to tell you about our time with someone once associated with the big PE. Also, Adrienne took salsa classes and she’s basically a professional now.

His & Hers: Indonesia- Blessings, Boards, & Aussie Buttheads

Just let me begin by pointing out there’s an obvious reoccurring theme here on AAATTW. We party a lot and we party hard a lot. So, don’t expect any differently ever, but also, don’t expect tooooo much detail as we like to keep a tiny bit of our craziness to ourselves #noneyabusiness. 

We stayed in Bali for 6 weeks, 5 of which were spent on the beach in and around Seminyak, and 1 up in ze jungle in Ubud. We made the mistake of booking our time in Bali during the holidays which means drunken Aussie overload. I’ve always thought Australians were generally decent people, no hate, but that all changed rather quickly. Aussie’s in Bali are painfully loud and rude and repulsive and easily the worst drunks. I don’t have an issue with those four traits, but put them together and slap on the dumbest accent of all time and you have a real mess on your hands.

I recommend avoiding that chaos from Christmas through NYE, by staying far far away from Kuta and Seminyak, unless of course, you're a degenerate avatar who would cheer at a bar for a woman to "show her tits," then you'd be in good company.

The beauty of Bali definitely runs far and wide - we rented a scooter for our entire stay for something like $6 a day, and burned rubber all over that Island.  Changuu, Uluwathu, Ubud, Tanah Lot, all over - cliffs, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, jungles, temples, beaches, other types of beaches, hills, mountains, rice paddies - definitely bring your razor scooter and box of crayons when you come. 

The Balinese follow their own brand of Hinduism for the most part and their temple game is INSANE.  Ohh and even more nuts is how good these people are at crazy ass sculptures - if we're ever rich and have a garden that we need to fill with 20 foot statues of ourselves, this is the place to have them made.  Everyone here seems to be some sort of artisan.

Have you ever burned the bottoms of your feet off by doing something badass like walking over red hot coals?  We haven't, that's idiotic.  But Adrienne was able to melt off the majority of her foot prints vis a vis giant blisters vis a vis walking 300 yards on black pavement on a 100 degree day.  Why oh why did she subject herself to such torture?  Because she woke up one morning, at home, fully clothed, in bed, but without any shoes anywhere to be seen somehow.  And the liquor gods strike again!  The Birkenstock couple was broken and after two hours of foraging - she could not find, and somewhere out there some limited edition, ADM-stank black on black Birkens are floating through the Pacific Ocean.  Randy got to play ancient Chinese nurse and bind her feet in gauze.  Then about 3 hours later, for some ridiculous reason we decided to go up to Potato Head Beach Club.  Me and my cripple-footed wifey.  Is it the same for everyone that when your significant other is severely and recently bandaged up, walking in public with you, that EVERYONE stares at you like - WTF HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!

We were lucky to have met an incredible couple in Ton Sai Beach, Thailand, who then joined us for a stint in Bali. We rented the most bad ass house (here, for those of you interested) in the middle of rice paddies, in Ubud. We had so much fun racing around on our little motor bikes, come rain or shine. What a beautiful place. 

Hers: Thai Treats & Terrors

I have very few memories of Thailand as I was quite literally blacked out for most of it. We dove right into the chaos the moment we got there and we didn’t come-to until we we left for Indonesia. Seriously, we were even piss drunk for our flight out of the country. Unfortunately, we did not get to dive into the culture in Thailand as we generally do in most places we visit. We have/had sad, sad livers and I’m def missing all the millions of brain cells we murdered. Oh wellsies.

We saw some sights and learned a thing or two, but we mostly just lived like college spring breakers and it was a riot. There are things that happened that Andrew and I will take to our graves because recklessness was the theme of our Thailand Team. Two of Andrew’s friends from home visited us while we were in Bangkok and together we went to Phuket. Andrew, D, and Mix, your secrets are safe with me if mine are safe with you!!! 

A week in Bangkok, then 4 nights in Phuket, followed by a week in Krabi / Ao Nang / Ton Sai, and finally 10 days in Koh Samui.  Wow, that was a lot of chaos.

To briefly preface - Thailand is crazy beautiful.  If you fancy a good beach with crystal clear and WARM water combined with and endless party scene - add Thailand to your list.

In Phuket, we sought out the legendary Sea Kayaking experience through SeaCanoe Thailand. This goes against every single travel rule we have, which is just one: Exercise and happiness do not mix.

Knowing we have a 7am date with the deep blue, naturally we go out hard until 3am, and arrive to the sea kayaking docks sleep deprived, in a serotonin depleted hungover and being forced into exercising...basically the worst trifecta ever. After a long, hard, idk 10 hours of paddling for what felt like was easily 100 or 200 miles, Me and The Roomie were first to paddle into the last cave of the day. Me being in the front had to lay on my back and steer us through the cave by using my hands on the ceiling of the sharp and slimy ceiling. Andrew was paddling behind me in the pure darkness when we both saw several sets of eyes glaring at us. I’m not much of a screamer, but I was absolutely petrified which resulted in screaming and basically a full melt down. In my mind, the eyes could have been anything, crocodile, snake, dragon, sea monster, you name an evil creature and I guarantee you it crossed my mind. We were in pure darkness so when we saw and heard the “eyes” disappear into the water we lost it. We had to keep going as the current was slamming us forward into the cave walls at every bend, and we had our friends and guide in kayaks behind us. Also, there’s no turning around in these tiny little caves. So, onward we went in pure panic mode, urine and poo poo slowly filling up our little yellow seacraft.

At the end of the cave, just like the other caves we visited, was a huge, stunning lagoon. Andrew and I were equal parts relieved and traumatized. Our friends and the guide arrived a few minutes later when we explained our experience. The guide got all giddy and shit and said, “you’re so lucky, you saw water monitor lizards!!” I've never shit my pants and had someone tell me I was lucky before. Oh Thailand, where all things collide. 

Cool, dude. We calmed down slightly, tried to keep our shit together and got as far away from the dragon's nest as possible before getting out of the kayaks for a swim in the incredible lagoon, which is basically the hole of the donut that is the island we're in - walls shooting straight up for idk, a gazillion feet? So we paddle over and then hop out on the guide's instruction - the water's about waste height here. He points and tells me to walk that direction. So, I do it. I walked straight for about 4 steps and then sink down in the water immediately, and I’m up to my knees in death sand, and up to my neck in water, and I freak out all over again. Andrew comes to my rescue and pulls me out. Fuck you, Tom Cruz (obviously the name of our Thai guide :)). A few minutes later we’re having a good time, swimming, chatting, enjoying the breathtaking view when I feel a sharp ‘bite’ on my calf. Again, AGAIN, I freak out, and tears this time as I’m just so fucking overwhelmed. Turns out, Tom Cruz swam behind me and pinched my calf underwater. I’M SO DONE. I wanted to knife Mr. Cruz right in the throat and I get the F out of there. THE END.

Thankfully for $10 massages, which were essentially a daily routine for us in Thailand, serenity was able to return.

Later that night, college roomie "D" wanted a quintessential Thailand experience with the ladyboys. Now now, don't get carried away - he just wanted a picture.  The thing about Thailand that's super weird is that any time you see an incredibly beautiful woman, or a flock of them - fabulously dressed - it's guaranteed to be a ladyboy.  That's just standard operating procedure.  So on the main drag in Phuket, "D" got his shot, and paid $5 for a picture with 4 giant body-builder ladyboys.  Apparently it was supposed to be $5 EACH.  After 11 years of best friendship, we almost lost "D" that night.  DO NOT FUCK WITH THE LADYBOYS.  "D" was inches (pun intended) away from getting jumped by a gaggle of +6'1'' ladyboys.  You see, he only had $5, and the rest of us thought it would be funny to walk away, fast...but upon looking back, 50 meters away, the unmistakable look of sheer fear was plastered to the face of our - 6'3'', handsome, strapping, West Indian friend - no twiggy pushover his own, we decided to sprint back over and save his life.  You're welcome D.  I think to this day he doesn't leave his house without $100 in unmarked legal tender.  I also wonder how he's doing.  D, are we still friends after we almost caused you to get dead?

This is so just the tip of the iceberg of our Thailand experience - it definitely begs a few repeat trips; more Krabi, Chang Mai in the north, and some proper getting lost in the middle of nowhere.  Next time...

Hers: Zanzibar-ing Like F'n Bosses!

We’ve had a few adventures here and all of them have been interesting, to say the least.

The owner of our hotel recommended that we check out these “really cool” coral caves. So, we took our favorite mode of public transport here called ‘Boda Boda,’ which is riding on the back of a shotty motorcycle taxi. We got to the check-in point of the caves after driving 20 minutes on tiny, rocky paths through a jungle-like forest. We finally pull up with broken asses and there was no sign, just one guy sitting in a hut to welcome us to this “tourist attraction” who said “Jambo!” (Hi) and then handed us two flickering flashlights. He walked us through the forest until we got to a staircase going into the ground. It looked very civilized at first until we got to the point where we could no longer see the light from the entrance.

I shit you not, the very moment we were in complete darkness all hell broke loose. I consider myself pretty brave. I don’t scare easily besides from movies like The Ring or The Grudge, two movies that still haunt me to this day and I literally break down in tears when my d-bag husband makes the same sounds as the little demon child in The Ring. Worst sound ever, and he always threatens or bribes me with it! Besides that, I’m cool in dark spaces where it’s ideal for murders to capture and kill you. Anyways, we were walking through this pitch-black cave while the guide tells us the history of the cave and blah, blah, blah. I pointed my strobe light to the ceiling and I’ll admit, I wasn’t impressed with the hundreds of upside down hanging bats above us. They were silent and still for a moment and then they went ape-shit. They dive-bombed us repeatedly while screeching. “Bats wont hurt you” our guide said, “there’s no reason to be afraid of them”. Dude. Shut. Up. Andrew was walking behind me and I see his flashlight shine at my feet where the ground is properly moving. I actually had to remind myself that we didn’t take LSD or mushrooms before this excursion because there should be no other reason for the floor to crawl. I peer down to get a closer look, Andrew must have done the same thing at the same time, because we both screamed bloody murder. There were dozens of spiders the size of my whole hand, not my palm, my entire hand with my fingers spread wide. They had FANGS. They had big, fucking vampire-like fangs. We all know fangs = murder. Andrew jumped onto a boulder and I scrambled to hop on our tour guides back. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and begged him to run. He was giggling. The motherfucker was giggling at us. He informed us that they are poisonous, but they wont hurt us. That sentence made zero sense in my head and I wasn’t buying it. “Please, please turn around. I want to go back.” Homeboy walked onward into cave-hell with me still on his back as I sure as shit was not putting my feet down. There was another 25 minutes of this madness until we got to a point in the cave where we had to crawl on our hands and knees to continue. I said a few choice words to our guide and he turned us around. I couldn’t see the look on his face as I was still piggy backing on him, but I’m pretty sure I scared him more than this demon house scared me.

We’ve gone on walks through forests with dozens of monkeys who would climb trees and jump inches away from our faces and just peer into our eyes as if we were the animals. Idiots.

We took Boda Bodas to far away beaches where men build big, beautiful boats with their hands using handmade wooden drills and rocks as hammers. Cute little unsupervised kids playing on the beach and swimming in the water would run up to us and ask us to take their picture. Right as we’d lift our camera to our face they would scold us and say, “NO PAY, NO PHOTO”. Little shits totally tricked us.

We’ve been sailing a few times in the turquoise waters on the aforementioned boats. On one pre-historic looking boat-sailing trip, our Captain randomly jumped out onto the reef and asked us to follow him.  After walking through waist-deep water, dodging thousands, no millions of spiky Sea urchins, we found dozens and dozens of starfish in every color you can imagine. I tried to stuff some in my bathing suit, but their little feet things were tickling me too much. I read somewhere  that starfish can tickle you to death, so I didn't want to take any chances. Yes, i know its shocking that I read, I just skip over the words with six letters or more. I'm basically a speed reading legend.

We took a boat taxi to Prison Island where many, many giant tortoises roamed around freely. There were several that “stood” up to my waist, but all of them were over 100 years old and shockingly massive. We fed them, pet them, pretended to ride them and I was in heaven. If you kneel down and massage the skin in between their front legs, neck and shell they stretch their seemingly short necks out really tall like a growing penis. Ew, wieners are gross. Not these turtles though, they were cute as hell. When we arrived, one of the monstrous male turtles (tortoises? same thing) was mounting a much smaller female turtle and making the most horrific noise my poor, innocent ears have ever heard. She was casually eating lettuce as if nothing was going on top of her the entire time he was going to work, mouth-breathing on the back of her neck. I obviously got photos and videoed the worlds slowest sex scene. If you’re one of the people that I like making feel dirty all over, you’ve seen said video and heard the noise that I can only describe as…. actually, I can’t describe it. You’ll have to go there and hear for yourself. Anyways, I could have stayed there all day, despite the rape-y sex scene that has forever changed my idea of the phrase, “humping like an animal”. 



His & Hers: Cape Town Has Our Hearts

This place is insanely fucking cool. Note: When Adrienne adds the word "fuck/fucking" before an adjective it means there's no (intelligent) word that covers her sincere opinion of it's greatness. Deal with it. Anyways, there are spectacular views from every single location in the city and even more-so on the outskirts of Cape Town. We would say it's a cross between San Francisco and Los Angeles, but 100x better and minus the superficial d-bags. The big, beautiful mountains, the gorgeous beaches edged with massive boulders, fresh fish and produce markets, an eclectic bar and restaurant scene, the people look like models (must be the Dutch in them- eh hem), but the women dress casually, makeup-free and the men wear flip flops, surf boards and smiles. In our opinion, this is the most appealing and jaw-dropping city imaginable. We want, we need, to live here someday.

We've been in Cape Town for just about three weeks and we've met so many incredible people. Four groups of friends that we can't get enough of. Some of them came into our lives organically (AKA after a few drinks at bars, restaurants or even on the streets), some from social media and some hopped into our lives by yelling across a bar "YOU'RE THAT TRAVELING COUPLE ON INSTAGRAM!" (Adrienne loves you Janice, her love, who is just as crazy as she is) Our interactions with the locals in general has been incredible. Everyone is smiley, helpful and so so so kind. 

All of the above has made the rolling electrical blackouts (AKA load shedding) for two to six hours at a time totally bearable, well, for Adrienne at least. It hasn't helped Andrew's work productivity, but we all know the guy deserves a break here and there and this forces him to get outside for a walk or enjoy a candlelit dinner at one of the many restaurants that stay open even though flash lights are needed in order to avoid running over small children or spill food onto patrons laps. The blackouts have added quite a twist to our days and nights, which keeps us on our toes and we absolutely make the best of it. 

The load shedding is not the only quirky thing about the city. There's a standard bus system, but the typical mode of transportation for locals is a "mini bus". This is essentially an old, beat-up van with a driver and a guy literally hanging out the back screaming different locations or routes. Once you get in the van they basically talk shit to each other in Xhosa, Swahili, or one of the 8 other languages everyone seems to know here and they definitely do their best to piss off other drivers. For an American, that whole system looks a bit dodgy, but it's definitely the most fun way to get around the city - we love it!

You see little kids dancing in a group of 10+ with faces painted white and long tassels on their shorts or skirts. They move their feet faster than Adrienne's slow noggin can comprehend. When they take breaks from their dancing and chanting, they lay flat on their backs or bellies in the middle of the super hot sidewalks. They're cute as hell and Adrienne wants to put them all in her pocket and keep them forever!

There's a bunch of other fun stuff here and we haven't even scratched the surface of activities and sights to see/do, but this is getting too wordy and we really hate writing. Over and OUT.

Hers: Hostels: Punta del Diablo, Uruguay, The Good, The Bad and the "I can't handle this sh*t"

We left Buenos Aires on December 23rd and its been a bit of a whirl-wind since then. We've stayed in six different locations in 12 days. Here's how it went:

We took a three hour ferry ride from BA, across Rio de la Plata to La Colonia, Uruguay (the cutest and oldest town in Uruguay- I HIGHLY recommend making the trek if you plan to visit Buenos Aires) where we stayed one night in our very first hostel. I was smitten the moment we walked inside the hostel as it was all open air with a beautiful, comfortable design- big lounge beds, cute dining tables, hammocks and a Boxer puppy that quickly became my bestie. We booked a private room with a nice big bed instead of the typical shared room with 4+ strangers sleeping in bunk beds. That night we met wonderful people, shared mate, wine and pineapple. I could have stayed there forever, but we were on our way again the next morning.

We had a two hour bus ride to Montevideo, Uruguay and checked into another hostel. This hostel was slightly more rugged, but bustling with chill travelers, great communal areas to hang and we had a private room again, so we were content. We spent two nights there and had an absolute riot with our hostel-mates and some friends that we met in Sao Paulo. Christmas Eve six of us drank all day and were meant to go to a huge outdoor party on the beach at night, but we got lost instead and ended up wandering the streets and beaches with beers in hand (legal here), lighting off bottle rockets as we walked (also legal) and watched massive firework shows from all angles (obviously legal) for literally 6 hours (shouldn't be legal- insert angry emoji face) as we tried to find a cab. In whole, the night was a complete shit-show, but we laughed the entire time and it will easily go down in history as both of our most bizarre Christmas' ever. 

On the 26th we took a four hour bus to La Paloma, Uruguay where we planned to stay through New Years Eve. La Paloma is known as a casual, little surfing town, so we were excited. The hostel we stayed at is tough to describe as the looks of it were nice, but the staff was very odd and always "creeping around" (as my friends from home would say, Hi girls- miss you!). They didn't do anything especially disturbing, but a lot of little things basically all of the time. For example: in a matter of two hours the following took place: we were drinking on the patio, they helped themselves to our booze (we didn't care, it was just odd), my sunglasses were sitting in front of me on the table, one worker sat next to me, tried them on and very seriously asked me if he could have them. They stood over our shoulder while we cooked in the kitchen and we made a run to the store one asked us to buy him three packs of cigarettes and pop with no offer to pay for it. They walked right into our bedroom when the door was left slightly ajar for a moment. NONE of these things are necessarily bad, but altogether it was simply strange! We decided to cut our stay short and meet some friends in Punta Del Diablo on the 29th through Jan 2nd. We hitched a ride there from some guys we met at the hostel. Thanks again Chico and Fabrizio!!

Punta Del Diablo, one of my favorite destinations so far. It's an old fishing town with a slow, hippie, youthful and eclectic vibe. We heard the night life was fun and it being NYE week, there were going to be a lot of people visiting the itty bitty town from the surrounding cities. We were STOKED. Since we booked accommodations last minute we had to stay in a hostel that was a twenty minute walk from the beach and thirty minutes from town AND we had to book a shared room. No biggie, I shared a room with my sister for a while and Andrew shared with his bro...we can totally handle this. We checked in then took a tour of the massive hostel, which looked pretty damn lovely. There's a restaurant, bar, pool and a bunch of other fun amenities. Three twin-size bunk bed stacks in our room with a slider door to the pool/bar area with a huge stage where a reggae band was jamming in the sunshine. We thought this hostel had everything we wanted and then some... Turns out we were horribly mistaken.

I could seriously write a book about the following days, but instead I'm going to give you the most whiny, complainy PG-13 rated cliff notes. Please understand that no one, two or three (maybe four or five depending on the combination) events I'm about to list would have been totally manageable, but the collaboration of everything at once was honestly my personal hell.

(1) The hostel's wifi and phones being out of service from the moment we got there- this isn't great for work purposes, but we made do.

(2) There were spiders and cockroaches the size of my palm camouflaged in unexpected areas.

(3) A mystery bug that nibbled at basically every inch of me (even my lip that grew to THIS size) was starting to drive me mental. I was slapping at my body at least three times a minute out of pure reflex. 

(4) The food at the hostel was barely edible and none of the appliances in the kitchen worked, so we couldn't keep food. The closest restaurant was a 45 min walk away. Remember, the phones were out, so we couldn't call taxis.

(5) Showering was counter productive and I won't tell you why. 

(6) Our room filled-up with two groups of two girls (poor Andrew) who were super rude (poor me). They didn't speak any English, but they apparently mastered the art of the silent bitch. 

(7) So, we knew the hostel used to be a club, but we didn't know it still IS a club and the ONLY late-night club in PdD. Every night, every human under the age of 30 came to our hostel/club. We like to party, so it was fine with us for the first few hours, but we completely forgot that nobody, in all of the places we've been in South America so far, stops partying until after the sun comes up (Seriously, WTF people, it's 7am?!).

(8) Remember when I said we had a sliding door that went to the pool/outdoor bar area? Well, that means the party was immediately outside our door.

(9) Did I mention that none of the doors lock on any of the hostel rooms? This means anyone from the party could pop in at any moment and they did at all moments.

(10) WE (as in, not just me) were so afraid of what could happen in the night that instead of sleeping in our own toddler size beds, we slept in one toddler size bed together. 

(11) I know I said there was a stage outside, did I say that they blast a mix of music from the early 2000's and Brazilian Samba from 1AM until 9AM?

(12) The worst part of the entire stay was the people staying at the hostel. Every one of them was under the age of 22, out of their minds on drugs and complete and utter idiots. When we were forced to interact with the tool bags, they called us "New York" and wanted to practice their English with us. This would have been totally fine if they weren't always so wasted that they sounded like their tongues were too big for their mouths. The boys were incredibly inappropriate every time Andrew turned his head and the girls had very high pitched voices and they squealed a lot. I think this goes without saying, but this hostel was a disturbing cross between MTV Spring Breakers and a drug riddled child-rave that never seemed to end.

(13) Last, but not least... the whole affair made me feel so old and grumpy and as though we can't hang anymore. This is devastating to my ego, which really pisses me off more than anything else.

#rant #0ver

I just want to mention that this experience will by no means prevent us from hosteling again. I mean, everyone knows there's nothing glamorous about hostels, BUT apart from a few exceptions, there is really no other accommodation in the world that properly treats you like family, where fellow travelers talk to you with genuine interest, trust you for no apparent reason and share what little they have without expecting anything in return than a hostel.  There's some magic in that sense of community that we really love and can't wait to experience in Africa.