Hers: Cusco, Peru

Cusco, the cutest city in the world filled with sweetest people in the world. It’s such a happy place with great shopping and some incredible history. We toured The Sacred Valley, and saw some seriously impressive Inca ruins, and small villages filled with smiling little people, fuck loads of llamas (I held every animal I could get my grimy fingers on), and colorful everything.

Obviously, we did Machu Picchu which was infinitely more beautiful than any photo I’ve ever seen of it. Andrew almost got us kicked out several times for wearing one of our robes, which apparently made him look more terrorist-y. Our guide said she’s never seen anyone get racially profiled at the ruins. Being one of the 7 wonders of the world, crawling with all walks of life at all hours- when I say crawling, I mean, there are 30,000 tourists making the trek everyday. That racist little shit-bag… 

The entire time we were in Cusco we were prepping for our Ayahuasca Retreat, so we did very little drinking and we were on a strict diet. We did break the rules and ate guinea pig, but that shit was gross and an instant regret.  Oh, we also had Alpaca, and LOADS of Ceviche obv.  It was nice to have a bit of a detox, and our bodies definitely needed it. 

Cusco, Sacred Valley, Machu Picchu - I mean, just wow - these places were so magical, serene, enormous, beautiful, and spiritual. You really have to get there - and stay there for a while to really let it sink in.

Ayahuasca. Andrew wrote a very, very, very detailed piece on our experience, and in my opinion it's worth the read. It was the best experience of my life, and I recommend for everyone under the sun to try this enlightening medicine. It changed my life, rewrote painful bits of my history, and made me a better person. Click here for some mind-blowing shit.

All, in all, Peru was a highlight. We met so many cool locals who took us under their wings. We befriended a handful of fellow tourists, and we had the most insanely beautiful experience with Mother Ayahuasca. HUGE win.

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...

His: Myanmar Your Grill

This was our most highly anticipated stop of the trip so far as it’s known to be comparatively unscathed by tourists. We meant to stay for a month, but our trip was very abruptly cut short due to lack of internet connection and the husband of this duo (guess which one that is) needs that inter web in order to rule the advertising world. The 10 days that we had in Yangon were really wonderful, but we missed the best of the best, Bagan and the Inle Lakes.

Visiting Yangon’s pagodas and temples was like spending a week inside Lil’ Wayne’s mouth.  So much damn gold and diamonds on that pinky ring bling bling.  It is absolutely mind-blowing.  It doesn't make any sense at all.  Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon has something like 1,000 shrines all in like less than a square mile and all hypnotically surrounding the pièce de résistance, the Golden Pagoda, towering 105 meters over the skyline, visible for miles around the city.  Not to mention, dozens of other bling blang pagodas and shrines all over this city, including a 65 meter long Reclining Buddha, aka Chaukhtatgyi Buddha Temple aka Netflix and Chill Buddha.  Myanmar is the dirty south rapper of Southeast Asia.  I mean, there weren’t any strippers or Bentleys (that we noticed), but I know they’d be all up in their music video tossing wads of bills, showing off their gold-plated sneakers, and brushing their grills with liquid platinum toothpaste.  Ball so hard Burma, ball so hard.

We ate a lot everyday, but quite aggressively at night. We found a little, shitty street in China Town filled with food carts, rats and cockroaches where we could pick out all of our fresh veggies and marinated meats to be thrown in dirty baskets and grilled in front of us. You should definitely stay in China town & hit up 19th street day or night, plenty of chaos and all of the great Southeast Asian energy that you could possibly soak up.  The food was so delicious that you didn’t even mind sharing your scraps with rodents and dickroaches, or taking the risk of getting food poisoning. Adrienne quickly became obsessed with the ginormous fried grasshoppers and ate 1-5 a night after putting 9-15 Myanmar Beers in her face hole.  Bonus points to Myanmar Beer - under the cap, you win money OR a FREE BEER.  We earned lots and lots of free beers and gave the "money caps" to the little kids roaming about.

BOMB FOOD in Myanmar: Tea leaf salad (looks sketch as it probably comes in a little baggy, but it's awesome), Chia Tea, Meeshay (a Shan dish; rice & saucy meat), and fried grasshoppers obv.

The ornate, massive, golden temples are gorgeous and the people were lovely, but really, the grasshoppers were the real attraction for my little lady. Definitely go to Myanmar - and definitely hit everything incredible that we missed (Bagan, Inle, etc).  This is a home run destination in our little black book.

Oh note to self ya’ll, don’t touch monks and post photos of it on social media. Adrienne befriended a monk one day, and he asked for a photo, he signaled for her to go in for a cuddle while I took the shot. Apparently thats a big no-no and people really like to tell you all about it in a not so nice way. If one of you meanies are reading this, FU! He loved Adri and Adri loved him!!! (insert middle finger emoji)

Hers: Cairo, Camels for Spouses

We went to the pyramids (during the day and night) and basically had the whole place to ourselves. Our guide offered us weed and booze and even graciously proposed to purchase me from Andrew in exchange for 2,000 camels. I have no fucking clue why Andrew didn’t barter with him for more, but in the end, no deal was made. Stupid, Andrew- you probably could have gotten him up to 2,007 camels!! Seeing the pyramids was incredible. Like most people, I’ve been dreaming about it since I was a little shit and it was just as magical as I thought it would be.

However, we made the mistake of doing the most uncomfortable and disgusting walk/crawl into a tomb beneath one of the pyramids. Worst idea ever, it smells like someone died in there and then people peed all over it for 4,000 years.  That, mixed with the complete lack of oxygen at 50 feet down a tiny passageway to the tomb, requires you to take full gasps of hot death piss-air.  I can still taste the wiener-water (obviously women didn’t pee down there, men are filthy animals). We rode camels. We're going to have pet camels someday. Fuck dogs. Camels are the new, but much cooler dog. Step your pet-game up. 

Everyone takes mad selfies. For example, at dinner every person at all the tables surrounding us had their phones at arms length for a majority of their meal. Every bite they ate and every sip they took was documented, we counted 20-30 straight selfies taken per session on dozens of occasions.  Seriously people, just strap a mirror in front of your face so you never, ever have to take your eyes off of number 1. Egypt actually won an international award from the UN for the most selfies taken per minute, only to be one-upped by India for taking the the worlds most ridiculously posed boy-band selfies. Where you at, EGYPTIANS!!

We went to a cool little scent shop where I bought “Secret of the Desert” because it apparently gives boys boners. I tested it. It’s true. I was covered in boners.

Nobody in Egypt would accept the fact that Andrew wasn’t a full-blown Arab. Most of the locals we interacted with spoke great English, but insisted on speaking in Arabic to Andrew. We had to have a ten minute conversation with every cabbie, store clerk, or gawker on the street just trying to make them understand that he is, in fact, a product of a white American woman and black Jamaican pirate. A very confusing concept for them.

We celebrated Andrew's Birthday with dinner and belly dancing on the Nile River. A random stranger in the bathroom pushed me to my knees, pulled out my ponytail and perfectly french-braided my hair without a single word exchanged. Awkward, but lovely! 

One night we were laying in bed, chatting, when we heard what we were absolutely certain was a bomb of sorts that shook the entire apartment. We were frantic. Andrew jumped out of bed and looked out of all the windows in our room to find nothing out of place. I was hiding under the covers and refreshing my web search of “Cairo Bomb”, but nothing was coming up. The next day we learned ISIS ignited a car bomb outside a police station, killing at least six people and injuring dozens. We were a bit shaken, but knew we were ultimately safe in the neighborhood we were staying in. Our apartment was near a majority of the embassies and we had to walk by a number of them the following day. On two different occasions guards holding semi-automatics pointed their guns straight at us as we walked past them. After telling a few locals, we learned that they were likely threatened because of Andrew’s ginormous beard. Racial profiling at it’s best. The next day, we were waiting outside a palace for a local friend to meet us when armed guards came and very aggressively questioned us in Arabic, we didn't make it far in the conversation as we obviously didn't speak the same language, and then stood ten feet away from us blatantly staring with their fingers on the triggers of their AK47's, until our friend arrived an hour later. They pulled her aside and questioned her, again aggressively, asking her how she knew us, where we were from, etc. and even asked her to show her Egyptain ID. She said this was the first time in her life she had been even talked to by armed forces. It was strange. It didn't stop there, little things happened, like people calling Andrew Osama as we'd walk by them and such (which has been an incredible common comment on our travels) but it wasn’t the nicest feeling especially after such a horrific event had taken place. We may have been paranoid, but we’re not generally the types to scare easily. so we tend to think we aren’t far off base by stating Andrew was being racially profiled and treated as though he was a potential threat. Note, these things occurred before Andrew opened his mouth. The second the Egyptians realized he was American, jokes and fun-loving banter followed. It was bizarre.

ZE END.

Hers: Lashings in London

We went from Turkey to the US to celebrate my Grandpa’s 90th birthday. We spent two weeks with our families, and it was absolutely lovely. It was strange being back after nine months abroad, so were definitely ready to get back on the road and back to our comfort of the unknown.

We only decided to go to London (AKA land of gnarly teeth and tea), because our flight from home to Cairo had an overnight layover in London, so the ball and chain suggested we extend it to see some friends who live there. I’ll be honest when I say I’ve never been interested in seeing London and I wasn’t impressed with the idea of staying a whole week. Andrew has been there 6 or 7 times and always raved about it, but he doesn’t know shit, so I didn’t listen. Really, I felt like I’d seen enough of it in movies and photos and most people I know have been and that reason alone made it less interesting to me. I’m much more interested in exotic places with cultural differences, warm weather and few to zero hipsters hipstering around like they own the damn city. I put London in the ‘that place is overdone. I’ll go there when I’m old. or never’ category. For the first time ever, I was wrong.

Some of our favorite hood-rats are living in London and each one showed us a different side to their city. We did a few touristy things, but mostly played and played and played in every dirty crack and crevasse built with the stolen wealth of the world (oh, burn). 

Upon arriving to the land of the Queen every woman receives a lavish hat for high tea and men get a jacket with coattails and their teeth painted brown. Horse drawn carriages, black taxis and double-decker buses flood the streets. Every waiter’s name is Alfred. People even smoke cigarettes with their pinkies out. Union jacks are on ev-er-y-thing. There are keg-orators flowing with London Pride on every street corner. People are still being hung, drawn and quartered inside castle walls. Fish and chips for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Andrew got into a sword fight.  We even saw Kate Moss hoof a line of yak on the bar.

Just kidding. London is just another western, big city, but it was beautiful and we had a riot. London was fun-don.

Fun fact, “Street names that sadly no longer exist include Shiteburn Lane, Pissing Alley, and more than one Gropecunt Lane, which as the name might suggest, was associated with prostitution.” - Buzzfeed - (you’re welcome Roy, for quoting your favorite journalism gateway)

Hers: Stranded In The Bush, Kenya

I suggest you grab a glass of wine and make yourself comfortable, cuz this is a long one.

Before we arrived to Nairobi, Andrew had made an Instagram connection; Ian Cox. This guy showed us the funniest, most crazy shit Nairobi had to offer. Some stories that will never be put to paper as they will surely come back to bite me in the ass when I run for POTUS. Andrew will give you the PG version of our two-week stay. I’m going to do my best to recap our most ridiculously African day in Africa, ever!

Our new BFF, Ian, took his new BFF Emily, Andrew and myself out to “the bush” for a real “Kenyan experience”.  All we knew about the bush is that there are Masai people and wild animals in the open countryside. The Masia tribe is basically the last, easily-ish accessible and traditional tribe in Africa. They’re known for their red, plaid looking “dresses” and cool ass sandals. People say that these shepherds are (were, maybe?) fearless warriors. We saw some in Tanzania/Zanzibar, but they were Disney-fied for tourists and turned themselves into basic bitches with neon-green Wayfarer sunglasses and the occasional gold tooth. Nairobi is a pretty modern city, but once you drive 15 minutes out, you’re in another world. There are leopards, hyenas, lions, elephants, giraffes, zebras, etc. roaming freely. Emily and I started drinking a few minutes into our drive (go ahead, judge the lawbreakers). If there had been a camera recording our drive you would have thought Ian was drinking with us because he drives like a full-blown psychopath.

The roads in the bush, are not roads, they’re just a shitload of holes in the ground that create a large vegetation-less dirt path.  He was going SO DAMN FAST and swerving left and right to dodge the bigger holes. It was sort of like riding one of those shaky, shitty old wooden roller coasters, but worse.  These paths were like the surface of the moon or that crater-faced kid, Pete, from high-school. Anyways, we stopped a few different times to get out of the car and take in the gorgeous scenery of the Great Rift Valley. One time we were sitting idle on the side of the road after taking photos, chatting, when 6 or 7 boys ran up to the car with beaded bracelets and key chains hanging from their fingers. We have NO idea where they came from, as there were no structures, villages in sight, they must have come out of the fucking ground like the worms in Tremmors.  They were sweet, with big, kind eyes, not pushy or moody or whining like other street hawkers we’ve encountered. We bought a few things, gave them some extra money and drove on, Mario Cart style.

We drove through so many gorgeous Masai villages. We passed dozens of beautiful Masai women with their bright dresses, massive beaded necklaces, earrings, and kids tied to their fronts and backs; just walking along the crater roads or sitting under trees. Masai people are relatively stand-offish, so stopping the car near them generally made them run, duck behind trees or just waive their spear/staff thingy in the air angrily. I would never want to upset these guys, they carry a spear/staff and baby sword tied around their waist at all times. We saw Masai kids no older than 10 years old tending to massive flocks of sheep. It was beautiful. It was so, so beautiful.

There were two old Masai men walking along the road with a goat (I'm certain it was a goat, but everyone else in the car called the creature a sheep - but what do they know?) in tow. They flagged us down and slowly walked up to the car as we pulled over with sheer excitement and curiosity. I never asked what Ian said to them in Swahili, but next thing I know they were squeezing into our car WITH their sheep/goat. One of the two Masai’s (we’ll call him Frank) was next to me and the other (Beans) climbed into the hatchback trunk WITH the sheep/goat. I had a very large beer in my hand and several empties in the back pocket of the drivers seat. Frank pointed at the beer in my hand, so I passed it to him not knowing whether or not he even KNEW what beer was. He chugged it, then grinned. So, I handed him a second beer. He downed that one too and then checked the empties, drank the last drops of backwash from each one. I smiled at him like a proud Mother. 

Anyways, we’re all packed into the Subaru, Andrew and I giggling to each other, knowing that whatever was happening next was going to be fantastic. Frank and Beans didn’t speak English, so they would have to lean over me to point Ian in the right direction. These guys live in huts made of cow poo. They’re in the hot sun ALL day with their sheep/goats/cows/donkeys. Those two facts mean they’ve got a funky stench that was undeniably revolting. Their teeth are mangled. They have crazy, long fingers nails, big, stretched out earlobes and they wear, what we would call dresses. Did I mention that they carry a staff/spear and a mini-sword? Yeah, this was quite the site and I think most people would think twice before picking up said hitchhikers, but you could see and sense that they had hearts of gold. So smiley, so cute, but oh, so stinky.

We thought we were just dropping them off at their village, but they invited us to stay. One of their daughters came out. She spoke a bit of English and translated for us. There were a total of 7 people that we got to meet, not including the dozens of furry sheep munchkins that we of, course had to chase, catch and hold. The flies were EVERYWHERE. We were COVERED in them. I have family who own large farms, so I’ve experienced fly mayhem, but nothing like this. It was quite unpleasant, and of course Andrew was freaking out (he doesn’t like when bugs touch him), but we were so infatuated with these people and their way of life that it made the fly hell totally worth it. Frank’s daughter, we’ll call her Ketchup, was sneaky and asked us for money in order to get a tour. Whateva, this experience was priceless. We all squeezed into a poo hut, where there was a small fire going, but it was mostly black as night inside. There were a couple of tiny stools, a bed/ledge made out of poo and hide and a second poo poo/hide bed in the next “room”. The smell wasn’t as bad as you would think, considering we were basically sitting inside a mound of dung up to 100 years old. Also, there were no flies in our poo house, so Andrew finally stopped having panic attacks. Emily was sitting on a poopy bed next to Frank and Beans. Me and Andrew we standing/nealing next to Ketchup, Franks wife (Mustard) and their tiny, but fat baby (Pickle). There was another kid (Onion, he had attitude so his new name is quite fitting) who was darling, but looked at us as if we were aliens. We all sat with smiles on our faces, but in complete silence. I think we were in awe of our current situation and the way the day had started to unfold. After awhile it became apparent that we were overstaying our welcome, so we all hugged, took some photos together, got into our car and drove onto our next adventure. We were high off the experience we just had together. Ian continued to drive like a jackass. Emily and I were starting to get tipsy and giggly and Andrew was taking every opportunity to poke fun of us, per usual. It was SO grand.

After a couple more hours of crazy driving, drinking, scenery admiring, we made it to the Lake Magadi. Magadi is a salt/soda lake. It looks like a frozen over lake, but pink. Pepto Bismol pink. There were dozens of men shoveling the soda (idk, just google it) into big thick lines. If you took an aerial shot of what was going down, it would look like a bunch of ants using tiny, itty bitty shovels to make thick lines of cocaine ready for a dollar bill and a schnozzle. Emily took a dance on the lake even though the workers forbid us from touching it.  Probably because its acidic, poison, moist, anthrax.

Ten minutes later we got to a portion of the lake that was regular water, rather than pink anthrax and it was riddled with flamingos. This was the first time I’ve seen wild flamingos. Actually, I’ve never even considered that wild flamingos existed. Those are some stupid ass looking birds. Watching them fly in flocks is the most bizarre thing. That said, I’ve developed a small infatuation with those pink, awkward dummies.

Two minutes after that we stumbled upon wild zebras and wildebeests. The termite hills everywhere were ten+ feet tall and while you know what nasty, bitey, bugs are inside, they still look majestic. We saw some weird looking horned animals and other furry creatures I didn’t know existed.

Twenty minutes later we were at the hot springs part of this massive lake. We all got out of the car once again, but this time to dip our toes into a multicolored hole in the ground. We took off our clothes with the idea of submerging ourselves, but it was hotter than hot, so we just skated around the slippery rocks, coming inches away from falling to our scolding death. We all looked at the car and complimented it on making it through hours of evil treatment from the rabid-driving, careless, heartless owner. Andrew actually said, wow, after that ride out here, with that thing still standing and no flat tires, this day could be a Subaru commercial… Yeah, a commercial about how to ruin everything.

At this point I’m buzzed enough that the memory of the following events are a bit spotty. From what I recall, we all got dressed and hoped into the car, Ian turned the key and tik, tik, tik, nothing... We laughed and laughed at the irony of what we just said (Why didn't I knock on wood this time?!) until we realized we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere and the sun was setting. We were parked in a massive dry lakebed and looking around as it got darker and darker- it was a bit surreal. Emily and I had our doors open, with our feet hanging out the open windows, we quietly mocked Ian for pretending to know what he was doing under the hood of the car and made fun of Andrew for sitting there, watching Ian, doing absolutely nothing (I think he was waiting for Ian to have him hold something. Andrew's more of a "tool holder" than a fixer.), as she and I shared the last beer we had. Honestly, the lack of beer was our only concern. We were stuck in the bush, where leopards and lions and hyenas live and that was fine. But we didn’t have any beer. We had water and a few chocolate truffles, whatever, water and chocolate…. But, again, no beer.

Well, after an hour of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb touching parts on the car trying to look like they’re fixing stuff, the sun finally went down. We sat in the complete darkness, several miles from the last town, slowly accepting the fact that we’re going to sleep out there.  The sky was beautiful, filled with stars, it was really pleasant.  Then the hyenas started howling or barking or whatever they do that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.  Also, with the buzz now wearing off….mmkkay, maybe sleeping not here sounds a bit better than sleeping here. 

After an hour of sitting in the pitch black, with manhood defeat completely accepted by the guys, we decided to give her another shot. “Let’s try to start it again, why not? This time, turn the lights off first.”  Rev, rev, vroom, vroom, OH MY GOODNESS, WE’RE SAVED, well,  that's if we make it home without Ian finally crashing the car.  I kinda wish we would have been stuck out there and maybe someone got a hand or leg bitten off by an African beast. We’re traveling around the world in search of adventure after all, I’m willing to sacrifice a few of Andrew’s body parts for a good story to bring home.

45 minutes later, we made it to electricity!  We stopped in the soda town, picked up more beer (our third beer run of the day) and headed for home.

We saw striped hyenas (apparently those are more rare than regular hyenas- Ian peed himself with happiness). We got stuck in a traffic jam as there were one billion donkeys sleep-standing in the middle of the path. At that point, we thought it was a good idea to get out of the car and try to catch one. Emily got close once, but we gave up when I stepped in a steamy pile of shit, and went back to the car as failures.  We drove back to Nairobi with our spastic driver, ate the worst meal of our lives at some random fried chicken joint and headed out to the Subaru to finally go home, 6 hours after originally planned.  We made it across the parking lot and finally, as expected, our trusty old Subaru had that flat tire that Ian basically worked really hard on getting all day. Of course. Seriously, Ian, you’re the worst car owner in the world. The worst.

The next morning we replayed the day in our heads and we couldn’t get the smiles off our faces. What a perfect day of madness and adventure in Kenya. Thank you Ian and Emily for being so fun and carefree with us. We love you both!

 

 

 

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”. 

THE END! LATA! 

 

Hers: BA, Argentina, I Realize How Frequently I Talk About Booze In This

Buenos Aires- To say we feel at home here is pretty accurate IF you forget the fact that we're in a Spanish speaking country and neither of us are fluent in español. Our stay here has been the most relaxing few weeks that we've had in probably a year. Staying somewhere for five weeks relieves some of the pressure to run around and see all of the sights as quickly as possible. We've been doing exactly what we set out to do: live like the locals and enjoy simple pleasures. 

We generally relax during the day (Andrew is trabajando) and walk around in the afternoon and evening until we find the perfect restaurant to stuff our faces at.

A few observations:

1.) The people. Like Sao Paulo, the people here are sweet and welcoming. The big, big difference between the two places is the language barrier. It's far less intimidating here than Brazil, as I came here knowing enough Spanish to get by. I can actually communicate comfortably (comparatively) for the first time in 6 weeks. People have been so accommodating, even go as far as using a translator on their phone or ask other people around if they could help figure out what our gringo booties are trying to say. 

2.) Our apartment. We have enjoyed all of our accommodations up until this point, but there's something about the patio or the abundance of light or the modern feel that makes me want to stay "home", snuggle with a cup of Matte (the native tea here which is divine) and/or a cup of rosé and watch the sunsets from basically any room of the unit. Actually, the truth is, we're in the nude 75% of our lives right now. The patio is enclosed and with the consistent 70-80 degree weather there is definitely no need for clothes. We can see people on the streets, but they can't see us and we've been taking full advantage of this. I'm aware of how weird it is that I'm telling you this, but I can live with that- I hope you can too. Anyways, our patio quickly became my favorite spot on the entire trip so far.

3.) Fernet. Our San Francisco friends can stop reading here because they're fully aware of my deep obsession with this type of alcohol. They know and understand how difficult it is to find anywhere in the states outside of San Francisco. Every single bar here carries Fernet and 90% and it warms my heart. The bartenders think I'm loco when I ask for shots to just sip on, but that's there problem. It's seriously a dream come true for me, so I've been enjoying it (maybe a little bit too much at times) every chance I get. 

4.) Sleep. Our hometowns don't ever really feel ALIVE at night. San Francisco completely shuts down at 2AM. New York City never sleeps (we know this all too well). Buenos Aires well, BA is on a fucked up schedule that we can't quite figure out. We haven't been out late enough to see when things actually shut down around here, but it is incredibly common to see people of all ages (0-100 years old) eating dinner at 11PM or later. We'll be stumbling home at 2-3AM and there are perfectly normal looking people going on walks with their toddlers. This results in one thing that really chaps my ass, no businesses are open until 10-11AM. The streets are eerily empty until then. I love my sleep, and I generally sleep in until 9:30-10AM. I'm used to being able to walk out the door (generally in my PJs) and get my essential hangover cure.. coffee, but can't, because not even coffee shops are open at that point. ****It has actually worked in my favor, as now I have the perfect excuse to sleep in later, so I really can't be too upset. :)

5.) Life. I'm finally starting to feel like we're not just on vacation anymore. Going on vacation usually comes with the daunting awareness of "the end is near"... I hadn't been able to shake that feeling until just this week when we started to plan our next steps for after we leave South Africa in February. I don't know how much longer we'll be gone, but I definitely don't feel like I have that pit in my stomach of heading home in just a few days.. I do however worry a bit as I can't help but think about 1.) I don't ever want to go back to the states where everyone complains about everything and 2.) When we do give up this wandering lifestyle, where is home and what are we going to do with our lives?

Hers: How do you say "WTF" In Portuguese? SP, Brazil

I wouldn't necessarily say that I treat my immune system with love and respect, but she has hung in there over the last 26 years of my existence and she very rarely let's me down.

We went out on the town pretty hard on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday two weeks ago. On a scale of 1-10 (1 being just one cup of booze per night and 10 being ten cups of booze per night) we were keeping it at s consistent 5-7 cups each night. So, not bad. Monday morning we were only slightly hungover, which results in extra cuddles for me, so it's always totally worth it. 

We opened all of the windows in the apartment (friends from home can't do that no mas- brrrr brrr, it’s cold up thurr!) then Andrew ran out to grab us big sloppy breakfast sandos and coffee.  We successfully pushed through our ’slow wakeup’ and were feeling perfect by 9-10 AM. 

Six Pee Em rolls around and we're both incredibly light headed, nauseous, dizzy, could hardly keep our eyes open and our heads were absolutely pumping. What, the, heck?!

A cup of coffee, Makers Mark, Ketel one, OJ, Airborne, Excedrin, white wine, red wine, peppermint schnapps, etc. can always snap me out of basically any funk. Not this time. Nothing could shake this nasty sickness for either of us. I may or may not have tried several of the above at once and I was still a zombie. 

When all of the symptoms continued for TWO EFFING DAYS and the bloody noses arrived, we knew something was up. We were beyond out of it - all of our liveliness zapped, and waddling around like march of the penguins (also an appropriate joke because Andrew is white and black). On Wednesday morning, my body was achy from laying in the fetal position for so long, so I tried to go for a run to get some "fresh air.” A minute in I nearly passed out on the street. I walked on all fours up the hill to our apartment, went to bed and didn't get out of bed once until noon the next day. It was kind of brutal and unlike any other physical illness experience I've had before.  

Anyways, poor Andrew had to go to a meeting that day, so he fought through it and came back with interesting news. Andrew’s meeting mate apologized for how terrible he was feeling and that he could not meet for long. The last 3 days were really rough on him….(exactly like us!!!).  So Andrew shared our pain, and the gentleman informed him that his bad headaches and chronic dizziness was due to the SMOG!!! The smog levels in SP were near their highest ever, and since there has been a drought there for the last 6 months (oh yeah, FYI - Sao Paulo is operating at .06% water capacity — a result of the rampant deforestation of the AMAZON. WTF - pay attention to the environment or something you evil money-greedy pigs!), people are extra-susceptible to the airborne pollutants. SMOG. FREAKING SMOG was making us crazy! I did some research because I couldn't believe that some crappy air follicles could torture us to such extreme measures. Some folks at UC Berkeley claim the following, "While the effects of smog vary according to factors such as age, state of health, time of exposure, and dosage, the general symptoms include coughing, sneezing, headaches, tiredness, irritation, nausea, and hoarseness of the throat, nose, and eyes, and constrictions of the chest.” Ya, I can corroborate your story, Berkeley. College people are smaht (Boston accent).  

Moral of the story: 

Go get a smog check right now. If you don’t, I’ll hate you forever. Or just get rid of your car. Or buy a Tesla. 

This was a disturbing experience and really opened my eyes to what we're doing to this planet and how we're going to pay for it in many ways. Blah Blah Al Gore.  Listen to him, I think.