Shanghai, China

Shanghai is a massive city. I can only compare it to New York in terms of the forest of towering high-rises that make up the city's skyline. Officially it holds 15.8 million people, but since the Chinese have restrictions on relocation, a few million migrant workers are illegal aliens in their own country, and are not counted in the census. Estimates put the actual population at between 18 and 20 million. It is the largest city, in the most populous country on Earth.

From the new Pudong International Airport, I reached the city center via super-high-speed Maglev (magnetic levitation) train. For a $7 ticket it covers the 19 mile journey in just 8 minutes, reaching a top speed of 266MPH!

I met up with Josh at the futuristic JW Marriot hotel housed in the 934ft tall Tomorrow Square building. I've never stayed at a hotel so tall and unmistakable. I could pick it out from nearly anywhere in the city. Many thanks to Josh's company for (unknowingly) letting me crash at the JW for a week. First impression from my 44th floor room is that smog envelops the city, and one cannot even see all the skyscrapers. Yet, Shanghai is considered to have the cleanest air of any Chinese city. On the ground the air seems quite breathable. Click the following link for some recent news on Chinese air pollution: http://www.theonion.com/content/video/china_celebrates_its_status_as?utm_source=videoembed
View from our 44th floor room


Tomorrow Square building from the People's Park

Josh and I went for a run through the People's Park, and a couple of Chinese students yelled "Go America!". I didn't know we were so obviously American. We saw old folks doing Tai-Chi beneath the shade of thick trees.

There is a lot of money flowing through Shanghai. The Pudong side of the river is one giant construction zone. 80 story buildings stand next to empty pits soon to sprout 90 story buildings.

Bamboo scaffolding fronts a 30 story building

At night we walked the length of Nanjing Road, the shopping center of all China. The neon almost rivals Times Square. We were repeatedly approached by young men whispering "Hello watches? Rolex? DVD? Good price for you." "Bu yao." ( I don't want any) became my most useful of my three Chinese phrases. "Nihao" and "Shie Shie" (Hello and Thank you) being the other two.


One cannot communicate with the average Chinese on the street whatsoever, though the employees of any store or hotel that deals with foreigners will speak some basic English. You have zero chance of explaining to a taxi driver where you want to go, so it is critical to have all destinations written out in Chinese beforehand. Even then you might not get there as many of the taxi drivers are as new in town as you are! If you can get them to understand and find your destination, the ride is cheap; I got all over town for $3.

The next morning I walked Nanjing road again all the way to the Bund, which unfortunately has construction along the riverfront so the river is not visible at all. Still the view of the Pudong side skyline is impressive from here. The iconic Oriental Pearl Tower, the Jin Mao Tower, and the Shanghai World Financial Center stand out among the rest. I took the ridiculously hokey tourist tram tunnel under the river to Pudong and hiked over to the Jin Mao Tower. For $10 I caught the elevator to the 88th floor of this 1,380ft tower. It gave a great view of the city, and an especially close view of the Shanghai World Financial Center, which at 1,614ft is the second tallest building in the world, behind Taipei 101. They call it "the bottle opener" because of the rectangular gap in the top few floors. The Bund


Jin Mao Tower and Shanghai World Financial Center (angle makes JM appear taller)


Frightening 1300foot drop INSIDE the Jin Mao Tower; Plexiglas separated me from the abyss.

View looking West from the top of the Jin Mao Tower. Note the Oriental Pearl Tower

After my tour of Pudong, I hopped in a taxi, gave the driver my "get out of jail free card" listing the JW's address in Mandarin, and $3 and twenty minutes later I was back at the hotel, packed and off to Pudong Intl airport for a China Air flight to Beijing.

San Salvador, El Salvador

El Salvador is country #52. Our TICABUS rolled into the dark eastern suburbs of San Salvador at 10pm. For mid-evening on a Saturday night, the streets were completely empty. In a city of 1.8 million, that can't be a good sign. San Salvador is ranked among the most dangerous cities in the world with a murder rate of 9 people per day.

However, most of those deaths are gang on gang violence. Lonely Planet assures me that the area around my hotel "The Boulevard of the Heroes" is safe to walk around even at night. I shared a cab with my new Israeli travel mates Tal and Gadi to Hotel Tazumal, and on checking in found that they are as frugal travellers as I, as they offered to split a big three bed room with me to save money. We enjoyed the A/C and Wedding Crashers on cable TV. I had hoped to hit some of the bars, but we all agreed it was out of the question by the looks of this moribund city.

In the morning I went for a slightly nervous walking tour of the city. Every house and business has thick metal gates and razor wire. Nearly every business has a private security guard with a shotgun near the entrance. I've never seen anything like this before, even mom and pop convenience stores have an old man with a pistol sitting out front. At this point I pull out my cash and divide it up into different pockets, and tuck a $20 into my underwear. I try to look like I know where I'm going and have nothing worth stealing. There is a lot of graffiti, and I'm starting to sweat in the morning sun. After a week in placid Nicaragua, I'd lost all my fear of Central America, but now I'm feeling like San Sal is a whole new ballgame.

Just then I turn a corner and stretching out ahead of me is strip-mall America. Huge signs for Burger King, Wendy's and Subway are lining the street. To my left is a shiny shopping mall, MetroCentro, the largest in Central America. I step into a coffee shop, nod to the ever-present armed guard, and order something resembling a frappucino. The currency in El Salvador is the US Dollar, and the prices in these American chains are about what you'd expect to pay in the USA. I don't know how the Salvadorans get by here.

I continued on through Parque Cuzcatlan, where kids are playing soccer and couples are relaxing on benches in the shade. On the edge of the park is the Monument to Memory and Truth. Patterned after the Vietnam War Memorial in DC, it lists the names of the thousands of people who were murdered in the civil war of the 1980's.

After visiting the mall and the park, I could see that San Salvador has some bright spots, and people are living comfortable lives here. I wouldn't have minded having more time to explore, but I had to head off to the airport and back to the US.

Honduras

Honduras is country #51. Today was a marathon bus ride though northern Nicaragua, the Pacific coast region of Honduras and western El Salvador. Unlike a real marathon, the worst part of the journey was the beginning. I waited two hours in the scorching heat next to the exhaust, air brakes, and horn blasts of a highway. I was joined by Gadi and Tal from Israel and Nin and Rich from England. Together we sweated under the ever-decreasing shade of a concrete overhang. Our ride, the TICABUS, had left San Jose, Costa Rica early that morning, and there was no telling how far off schedule it might be by the time it reached Leon. After seeing a dozen chicken buses come and go, finally, our salvation arrived.
TICABUS provides uncommon luxury after a week of perspiring through Nicaragua. Plush seats, movies, two meals, a toilet, help through passport control, and most importantly frigid AC was just what the doctor ordered. We watched "The Godfather" through Nicaragua, "Man on Fire" through Honduras, and "Taken" in El Salvador. Hey, nothing like two movies about being kidnapped, and one on organized crime violence to get you fired up for San Salvador!

Upon entering Honduras, a doctor came out to the bus and looked us all over for potential Swine Flu victims. We all passed.

The southern part of Honduras is dry, with sparse trees, and small villages. We rolled through one sizeable town, Choluteca. I see lots of cowboy hats here, but not too many cows.

Los Penitas and Cerro Negro, Nicaragua

With my new Norwegian friend Arnfinn, I trekked a scorching half mile to catch a bus the the Pacific beach town Los Penitas. It's only twelve miles from Leon, yet the bus (50 cents) took a sweaty hour to reach it.

Our arrival made it all worthwhile though, as smooth black sand beach gave way to surfable waves. I rented a shortboard ($5) and caught a couple. We had lunch with Luc, Irene, and Carla from Holland at Hostelito Oasis. Oasis has a great elevated thatched roof hut, several hammocks, cold beer, and non-existent service.

Some kids tried to sell us shell necklaces to no avail, and when that didn't work they dragged out a horse on a tether. I'd never ridden a horse, so I gave the kids a dollar and rode the skinny nag up and down the beach. It wouldn't respond to any of my commands (it probably doesn't speak English).

The Dutch folks were staying the night, but Arnfinn and I were taking the last bus back to Leon, so we bid them adieu and walked to the bus stop. We waited. Alone. In the dark. The bus never came. Dejected, we walked back to the Oasis, to find the Dutch playing cards, listening to an MP3-phone on speakerphone mode, thoroughly sloshed on happy hour rum n coke's, and thrilled to see us still in town. They tried to convince us to stay the night in sleepy Los Penitas, but we opted to shell out the big bucks for a $15 taxi ride back to Leon. I had an appointment at 9am for Volcano Surfing I couldn't miss. Always an adventure in Nicaragua.

Today I paid $30 to go volcano surfing with Bigfoot Hostel. What is volcano surfing? It consists of carrying a wooden board covered in metal sheeting up a1000ft high active volcano, putting on a bright orange denim jumpsuit and goggles, and sliding down on crushed rock at 25mph holding on for dear life.

A wild horse delayed our arrival at Cerro Negro. It was galloping in the middle of the road, and when we tried to pass it, it would sprint to hold us off. Awesome.

We donned our prison jumpsuits. Right before sliding down the rocky 41 degree slope of an active volcano, a member of group realized none of us even signed a waiver. Our guides response; "T. I. N. This is Nicaragua."

It was a good excursion, maybe not $30 good, but worth a try once. They had a guy with a radar gun at the bottom. I clocked in at 39kph, and smoked the guy I was racing against. The fastest guy in the group hit 56kph. If I had been up against him, I think I would have taken more risk and could have gone faster. There's something about getting smacked in the face by rocks at high speeds and knowing the nearest decent hospital is about 1000 miles away in Texas that slows a man down.

We finished off the day with a great night out. By day three in Leon, I had like a dozen new friends and we got a United Nations pub crawl going. Leon is a really fun town, and I was sad to leave the next day. Such is the traveller's dilemma; just as you settle into a comfortable groove in a nice place, it's time to move on...

Leon, Nicaragua

Today I caught a bus to Managua, transited at the UCA station, and got on an A/C minivan to Leon. Using public transport in Nicaragua is really easy. As soon as you walk into the bus station carrying a backpack, men run over to you to direct you to the right bus and collect their 10cent finders fee. In Granada, I was hustled onto a hot bus by a man yelling "Managua, Managua, Managua, UCA, Managua, Masaya, Managua!" Bus cost $1 Check the video.

When we got to Mangaua UCA, he took me directly to my van for Leon ($2) , and when I got to Leon, I was directly placed into a cab ($1.50). It's like having transportation babysitters.

Leon is HOT, HOT, HOT! Damn, I thought Granada was hot, but Leon is even hotter. This may be the hottest place I've ever been. It's 97 degrees and 94% humidity and no breeze. Seriously, I looked it up. I've lived through 113 in Tucson, but I swear this is worse. I sweat even in the shade. I just can't take it at times, it's a debilitating heat.

"Let's go for more victories!" is a common Daniel Ortega slogan.

This mural commemorates the massacre of protesting locals by Somoza led government troops in 1979.

Sandino, the namesake of the Sandinistas was a Nicaraguan patriot who led an uprising against U.S. Marines occupying Nicaragua in the 1930's. He is often portrayed in the above silhouette.

Leon is the heart of the leftist FSLN Sandinista party. It has lots of artistic murals commemorating the revolution, and also denouncing the USA. I especially like the juxtaposition of Sandino standing on the head of capitalist Uncle Sam with a Mercedes parked in front. The "Bush Genocide, The Enemy of Humanity" graffiti is painted on the front of the municipal building, so obviously the local government is in agreement and allows it to stay there.



It is also a university city, so there is a youthful vibe that was absent in staid old conservative Granada. On the flip side, Leon is not a pretty as Granada, not as tourist friendly, and it's busier, louder, and hotter. If you only had a few days in Nicaragua, I'd recommend Granada, but for a more in-depth dive into the culture of Nicaragua, Leon is the place to be.




Nicaraguans are not the most motivated people I have met. I seldom see anyone particularly eager to make a sale. Nicas do a lot of sitting, and walking very slowly. Despite quickly growing numbers of western tourists, with pockets full of cash to spend here, few Nicas have made any attempt to capitalize on this. They seem to regard tourists as a strange curiosity rather than a source of income.

Nicaragua produces a fantastically smooth rum called Flor de Cana. You can get a whole 750ml bottle along with a bucket of ice and a couple Coke's for just $12 in most bars. Crazy.

I'm travelling alone on this trip, but many backpackers travel alone, and it's not hard to meet people and find people to hang out with on the road. In Leon, the Via Via and Bigfoot hostels are directly across from each other on the same street. This is the center of the backpacking universe for Nicaragua. Around happy hour you can find every gringo face in town in one of these places. As such, I grabbed a stool at the bar at Bigfoot, and within minutes I had joined a posse of travelers bar-hopping. I went to see a German movie with Spanish subtitles at the French Cultural Center in Nicaragua along with a Brit, a Belgian, and an Aussie. Later we added a Norwegian, a Canadian, some Dutch, and hit the town.

I stayed in a really nice bed and breakfast in Granada, but I decided to slum it in Leon. After escaping from a too-loud hostel the first night, I found Casa Ivana. I got my own room with two single beds, a bathroom with shower, sink and toilet, a strong fan for just $7. Was it nice? Not especially. But it was mosquito free, quiet, clean, and if you lay directly under the fan and didn't move a muscle, it was cool enough to sleep. I bragged about my find to my friends staying at the trendy Via Via and paying an exorbitant $13 a night, but I was outdone by my friend Arnfinn who found some family who rented him a room for $3 a night. $7 a night is an all-time cheap room record for me. Arnfinn met a couple who claimed to have rented a cottage on the coast of India for 70 cents a night. No matter how adventurous and thrifty you think your backpacking travels are, you are guaranteed to be outdone by someone else on the road. If I were to brag about going to 50 countries, there's sure to be someone at the table who has been to 80. If I have climbed a 14,000ft mountain, someone has climbed Kilimanjaro at 19,000. And I always get weird looks when I'm asked how long I'm traveling. Only an American would come all the way to Nicaragua for just one week. Most people I met were travelling for at least three months, and many for a year. It's good motivation to hear what other people are accomplishing.