Cate Brubaker, Author at The Life Nomadic

It’s Time for a Change

April 24, 2016 by Cate Brubaker

Will and I have been on a slow move for almost six years. We’ve lived in Taiwan, Peru, the United Arab Emirates, Panama, and now Mexico. We’ve visited more than 30 additional countries. We went to Chernobyl. We visited the Pyramids at Giza. We met then Secretary of State John Kerry at the home of the US Ambassador to Russia in Moscow. We took three road trips through Europe. We’ve seen more places than most people will see in a lifetime.

And I’m bored. We both are.

I hate saying that. I hate feeling that way. Here I am, privileged in a way that few people are and I’m bored.

Our intention was always to avoid our mutual perceptions of life in the United States. We both dreaded the life that often feels forced, a constant cycle of consumerism, work, bills, and little time to feel free from those constraints. However, as time has moved forward, I’ve found that this is exactly where we are now. Although that life takes place in Mexico, it’s still a work week much like any other, with a slapped together dinner and TV until bedtime.

It was only just a few weeks ago that we visited Sumidero Canyon, one of Chiapas’ most famous and beautiful natural wonders. It’s only an hour away from our home and we’ve been here for almost nine months.

When we were living in Huanchaco, Peru in 2011 I met a woman through a mutual friend. It was a brief personal meeting but we became friends on Facebook and I began following her blog. She and her husband had driven from California and were now in Peru. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had always known that people did that, but I hadn’t ever actively followed someone’s Pan American Highway journey. I read her posts voraciously, not only because she’s a fantastic writer but also because I marvelled at their freedom. I wanted that, but I wasn’t sure I had the guts for it.

A few years later when we were living in Panama we were introduced to the Sparks family through a mutual friend. They were on their own Pan Am journey and we needed a housesitter. They arrived at our house in a customized van, a mobile fortress in a way, and with their young son. Before they became parents they had driven from the UK to South Africa. I loved listening to their stories, but I still wasn’t sure that was a lifestyle that I could handle.

Back in February Will and I took a much needed week at the beach. While he’s rarely writing on the blog anymore, I awoke one morning to find that Will had written a post. All of a sudden the idea of our own overland journey was back on the table and Will attacked it with gusto. He began scouring the internet for vehicles that he thought might be a good fit for us, and I sat in the background, jonesing for the adventure I knew we needed but still unsure how it would all play out.

The weekend of April 10th we took a long weekend in Mexico City for our anniversary. While he did take time off work Will’s vehicle hunt hadn’t ended. He’s whittled down his focus in a big way, and was convinced that a Nissan Titan with a camper of some sort was the best choice. We sat next to each other on the bed, and while he browsed car dealerships I logged onto a Facebook group for Pan Am overlanders and saw an ad.

“Are you dead set against a Ford?” I asked. I showed him the ad, I messaged the seller, and a few hours later we were on the phone with him. As I listened in on the conversation, not able to completely make sense of the talk of batteries and propane, a little tilt was going on in my brain.

This was it. I just knew we were going to buy this truck. Will put a flight to San Francisco on hold and we agreed to decide the next day if that flight would be purchased.

It was. We returned home to San Cristobal and Will left a few days later to go meet the truck and her owners. I felt very small in our big house that weekend, waiting for the WhatsApp notifications that kept me on the fringes of the loop that was swirling thousands of miles away.

Exactly one week ago today I woke up to an email. The subject line read “You’ and the body of the email simply stated, “Can announce.” My heart leapt and my then uncaffeinated brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened but I knew on a deep down level that this was it. We were going to take on the responsibility, the stress, the joy, the wonder, and the adventure that we so desperately need in our lives.

This is Moby.

Meet Moby! Photo courtesy of Toby and Chloe Conroy at Carpe Viam

Will drove away from her former Northern California home and headed for Wyoming to get shiny new license plates and registration. He’d WhatsApp me during the drive, hinting at rookie mistakes that he’d already made. He’s still not home, in fact, he’s probably in the air as I write this, but I’m sure he’ll tell me about things that are going to be the first of many mistakes. After all, a trip of this magnitude is not without its struggles, but I know that the joys will far outweigh those.

Right now, Moby is in storage in Salt Lake City. She will remain there until August when the lease on our house in Mexico is up. Exact dates and locations are still up in the air, but that’s part of the bliss that comes with this kind of freedom. Outside of a few restrictions, we can go where we want, when we want.

And as a relationship whose cornerstone is and always will be travel, I know that this journey will affect my marriage in profound ways. Although six years abroad has not been without its challenges, it’s also been a relatively comfortable and easy life. We always had our personal space, we always had enough of what we needed, and we always had people willing to help.

This has all changed. Now we have to reduce our lives to fit into a camper. There will be no room where one of us can go and shut the door when tension erupts. There will be problems; situations that force us to work together and navigate unknown territory. There will be disagreements, and the inevitable silence that’s deafening when you’re trapped in a vehicle with someone you’re currently irritated with.

But all of that aside, I am overwhelmed with how right this feels. This is exactly the decision we needed to make, at exactly the right time. I’m ready, Will is ready, and our relationship is ready for this next step, where we discard what we no longer need, carefully pack the rest, and hit the road.

I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

5 Things I’ve Learned After One Year in Mexico

March 10, 2016 by Cate Brubaker

The one-year anniversary of our move to Mexico came and went last week with little fanfare. I was aware that it was coming up but unlike previous years of life in other countries, this one seemed routine.
I think that’s because it is is routine. If it weren’t for Facebook prodding me with photos of my first of what would be many tacos al pastor that day would have just slipped by, like most days do. In fact, I was likely doing laundry.
I was 19 years old the first time I visited Mexico. This was during a long and crazy summer that involved a rental car from east coast to west coast, and hitchhiking back along the same route. My friend and I popped over to Ciudad Juarez for a few hours, back when a driver’s’ license was all you needed, and my teenage self had no fear.
I returned to Mexico again in 2004, this time to Matamoros. Again, it was a trip on a whim and I never ventured further than a mile from the United States and only stayed overnight. I returned with tacky souvenirs, some cheap medication, and a horrible hangover.
When we began focusing our travels on Central and South America I didn’t think much about Mexico. It always felt too mundane, too spring breaky, and just too close. To be honest, I viewed Mexico as a southern extension of the United States and I simply wasn’t interested. It didn’t help matters that my first real trip to Mexico was to Cancun in 2014. Sure, the beaches were lovely but it all felt like a Speedy Gonzales version of Texas or Florida, and as I secretly gloated in my underwhelmed feelings, I was unaware that I’d be returning in six short months, and would be here for a year.
In this year, I have learned more about Mexico than I have about any other country I’ve lived in. Of course I’ll never claim to be an expert on any country –not even my own– and Mexico is so incredibly nuanced that it sometimes feels impossible to comprehend. That being said, I have loved this past year in a quiet and thoughtful way and these are five of the things that I’ve learned about Mexico.

Mexico is Geographically Diverse

I like to think of myself as someone who is pretty knowledgeable about geography, but when it comes to Mexico I knew nothing. I don’t think I’m alone here either. I believe that many people think of Mexico’s Caribbean and Pacific coastlines and beach resorts, and the interior as some vast, uninhabited wasteland. In fact, when I tell people that we now live in San Cristobal they often ask which coast that’s on.
Mexico has 31 states (or 32, now that Distrito Federal is moving toward statehood) and seven climate zones ranging from Mediterranean to temperate. Mexico sees snow, volcanic activity, and faces hurricanes on both coastlines. The northern arid and semi-arid regions produce some of the best wine I’ve had the pleasure of tasting. From the sometimes wild waves of the Pacific to the gentle turquoise waters of the Caribbean and the mountains, deserts, lakes, rivers, and jungles in between, Mexico dazzles me with its geographic diversity, and once you get a bit more familiar with the country it’s hard not to marvel at how big it really is.

Speaking of Diversity

After all of the time I’ve spent in Spanish speaking portions of the globe I’m still a fumbling mess when it comes to Spanish. I understand most everything I hear, and I can get my needs met in most situations, but I know I sound like a toddler.
However, Spanish is just one of 69 languages recognized by the Mexican government. The other 68 are indigenous languages and there are estimates that 130 more indigenous languages have already been lost. The Mexican government implemented policies in 2002 aimed at preserving the remaining languages and the customs and cultures that accompany them.
Long before the Spanish conquered Mexico there was a thriving culture made up of many different peoples. The remains of those cultures can be found in the Mayan ruins of Tulum and Chichen Itza, the Aztec ruins in the heart of Mexico City, and that’s not all. According to the National Commission for the Development of Indigenous People just over 20% of Mexican citizens identify as indigenous. The bulk of these people live in Mexico’s southern states, and where we live in the state of Chiapas just over a third of the population is indigenous, mostly consisting of Tzeltal and Tzotzil peoples.
This level of population diversity is something completely foreign to me, and makes for a fascinating and often tumultuous regional history. Find a copy of Bordering on Chaos to learn more about Chiapas and Mexico as a whole during the fragile years of the mid-1990s.

Let’s Talk Food

Part of Mexico’s appeal is the food and it has definitely played a part in my perception of the country over the last year. Mexico’s geographic and cultural diversity play a huge role in the many types of cuisine here, and each state, region, and community has their own unique take on something spectacularly delicious.
In addition, migrants from other parts of the world have had a hand in the evolution of Mexico’s food. My favorite –tacos al pastor– is Middle Eastern in origin and is essentially pork shawarma topped with pineapple and sometimes avocado or radish. However, from the pulled pork style cochinita pibil to the delectable soup known as pozole there is much more to Mexican food than meets the eye, or nose, or taste bud.
Mexico is also launching itself directly toward the international foodie scene, and the country’s hub is Mexico City. Several of the capital’s eateries have made coveted “best of” lists and there’s no sign that Mexico’s talented young chefs are slowing down. Perhaps one of the most enticing aspects of this burgeoning aspect of Mexico’s food culture is not that it’s new, but that chefs are embracing ancient techniques and ingredients and reinventing them to reflect the kaleidoscope of Mexican heritage.
But even though five stars now grace many a restaurant kitchen in this country there’s still nothing like a street taco in Mexico. Nothing.

Safety Is Not an Issue

“Do you feel safe?”
This is by far the question I am asked most. By friends, by family, by everyone.
My answer is always a simple “yes”, but sometimes it seems futile to elaborate on that answer. People who think of Mexico as nothing but a cartel-ridden land of beheadings and disappearances won’t likely change their mind just because I say so.
But the truth is that I’ve never once felt unsafe here. We’ve ridden busses throughout half the country. We’ve walked the streets of Mexico City at night. We’ve encountered plenty of angry mobs protesting various things. Not once has anything even remotely unsavory happened. Actually, the only time I’ve ever felt fearful was when the stray dogs would chase my bike in Tulum.
That’s not to say that Mexico doesn’t have problems with safety; it absolutely does. But so does virtually every other country on earth, including the United States, and common sense is the best defense.

I’ve Learned About Privilege

Sometimes the lessons learned while traveling are sobering ones, and this is one of those times. I’ve learned a great deal about privilege during our year here, and that comes with its own heavy dose of guilt.
Mexico has income inequality just as most of the developed world does, and it’s easy to see here. The posh neighborhoods of Polanco and Condesa in Mexico City are in stark contrast to the hillside shacks in Chiapas. Our doorbell buzzes daily and the people waiting on the other side of the door, hoping to sell a bit of fruit or ask for work, fill me with so much guilt that I don’t answer anymore.
I just can’t look at these proud yet desperate faces and mumble “no, gracias” with downcast eyes any longer. I’m ashamed.
The Mexican peso has taken a tumble in the last year. While that’s great news for people like us who get paid in US dollars, it’s bad news for those who rely on the peso. Our privilege is not something I take lightly. It’s hard to explain our absurdly low cost of living without feeling horrible about knowing that the second I turn the corner on Guadalupe Street I’ll see the same old lady, barefoot, withered hand held out in the hope of a peso or two.
Privilege is a heavy cross to bear, and even being able to make that statement reeks of privilege.

We’re probably going to remain in Mexico for a little while, and we’ll likely trade the highlands of Chiapas for the cosmopolitan aspects of Mexico City. You see, the country that I had foolishly written off as too close and too mundane has unfolded for me in delightful ways. Mexico is complex and simple, gritty and polished, chaotic and serene.
And I can’t wait to learn more.

5 Things I Miss About Life in the United States

February 23, 2016 by Cate Brubaker

A few years ago an old friend from childhood called me out on Facebook for being “un-American” and deleted me. I’m not really sure what I did to give him that impression but I was living in the Middle East at the time, and at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter. I certainly didn’t miss seeing his Dodge trucks, Budweiser, and “where’s the birth certificate” posts on my news feed.

As I’m coming up on six years of permanent roaming I’ve been in the United States for a total of about two months, more or less. Most of that time has been spent visiting family or for quick visa runs. The truth is that — outside of spending time with family and friends — I don’t really like being in the United States. I feel awkward, my senses are overwhelmed, and now there’s the real possibility that Donald Trump could be the next president. That should be enough to frighten anyone who is considering a visit, and I know it frightens many people who live there.

I just returned from a long weekend in Miami. I fretted and fumed for a week leading up to the trip. Ugh, TSA. Ugh, crowds. Ugh, Florida. Crazy shit always happens in Florida. People throw alligators through fast food drive up windows in Florida. People use bath salts and eat the faces of other people in Florida. Frankly, if I weren’t coming down to the wire on my 180 days in Mexico I wouldn’t have gone. But I sucked it up and got on the plane, and the minute I emerged from the dark side of immigration I felt a strange sort of elation.

I was in the United States! I was in Miami! This is going to be awesome!

And it was.

I realize that Miami is one of the most international cities in the country, which may have softened the blow a bit, but it’s still America. And in the three days that I was there, I realized there are some things I actually miss about life in the USA, and these are five of them.

Car Radio

We rented a car for this trip and I had a blast with the radio. I’d kind of expected radio to be following the path of the dinosaur, as most people simply listen to the exact music they love and keep handy on their phones.

Neither one of us has much in the way of music on our phones so I scanned through the stations until I found the one that most closely resembled modern rock. I loved how I never knew what was going to be played next unless the DJ announced it, and I loved that the radio had an info button that gave me the song and artist for the tunes I didn’t know. So not only did I get to ride around Miami with the window down and the radio up, I became acquainted with some new music that I really liked.

Commercials

This might be the most unusual things that I’ve ever said, but the commercials that I heard while listening to the aforementioned radio were ridiculously entertaining. I had completely forgotten how radio was the preferred advertising medium for mid-level, less than corporate stores and businesses, and the prime breeding ground for lawyers who have a fondness for class-action lawsuits.

I saw a few television commercials as well, but it was the radio ads that really got me. And apparently the lawyers are not only pandering to mesothelioma patients these days; head injuries suffered by NFL players are this season’s hottest lawsuits.

Ambulance chasing is bad, but the ads they use to further their goals are hilarious.

Courtesy

Americans are often labeled as uncouth, aggressive, and boorish by people from other parts of the world, and that’s not entirely untrue. But uncouth, aggressive, and boorish people exist everywhere, and you don’t always have to look very far to find them.

Victoria's Secret by thinkretail via Creative Commons — I hate shopping but the salesperson made it so easy. Victoria’s Secret by thinkretail via Creative Commons

I was frankly stunned by the level of politeness and courtesy I encountered everywhere. From other drivers slowing down to let us change lanes to the wonderfully helpful salesperson at Victoria’s Secret who patiently helped me fumble my way to $400 worth of undergarments, everyone was just so damn nice! Bartenders, servers, the people at the gas station… it didn’t really matter where we went, someone was ready to smile and help in any way they could.

Food

For everyone who saw my Taco Bell post on Facebook last week, please know that I never ended up actually eating at Taco Bell. I wish that I had, but I also ate so many other delicious things that I can almost forgive myself for not staying true to my convictions and desires.

I watch enough cooking shows to know that the United States has some of the best and most inventive chefs in the world. No matter what type of cuisine or mash-up of cuisines you choose, you’ll find dishes that are carefully planned and perfectly executed.

The food highlight of this trip? Brisket wonton ravioli in a mango cheese sauce at a little Latin Asian fusion joint called Finka. Savory, slightly sweet, and so rich I thought I might die a little, these brisket filled pillows of awesome were incredible. As I not so delicately wiped dribbles of sauce from my lips all I could think was Holy shit that’s good.

But I also know that, had we chosen any other restaurant, it would have been equally as good.

Grocery Stores

We have grocery stores in Mexico. They run the gamut from teeny little mercados to Wal-Mart and Chedraui, which is Mexico’s slightly altered version of Wal-Mart. However, unless you’re in Mexico City or one of the expat-heavy cities like Playa del Carmen or San Miguel, you’re forced to accept the fact that you won’t always find your favorite and familiar brands or items.

And, let’s face it, there’s almost always that underlying smell of raw and slightly off meat in virtually every grocery in Mexico.

When I visit the groceries in the United States I feel like a refugee. I saw a movie years ago about a Cambodian refugee family who had settled in the United States. In one of the scenes, the sponsors took the family to the grocery store and these Cambodians (actors, of course) were visibly shocked and almost scared at the dizzying array of food items available, so colorful and neatly arranged.

Now I’m obviously not a refugee and with the current crisis that involves actual refugees I don’t use that term lightly, but whenever I’m in a US grocery I’m reminded of the scene in that movie, and I get it.

So shiny! So much stuff! Grocery store by 1Flatworld via Creative Commons

Of course, there are many more things that I miss about the United States, and that list is long enough for a year’s worth of blog posts. However, it’s not long enough to make me want to move back there any time soon.

But I may just have to search Youtube for some of those ridiculously entertaining lawsuit commercials, just for the laughs.

Popetacular in San Cristobal

February 9, 2016 by Cate Brubaker

If any of you know me personally then you’re likely fully aware of the fact that I am completely and utterly devoid of religion. I don’t believe in God, Buddha, Mohammed, or any of the other forms these deities choose to take, or their believers choose to give them.

I don’t know that I’d go as far as to call myself an atheist; I’m more just apathetic.

That being said much of my upbringing was peppered with religious experiences, usually in the form of my fanatically Mormon grandparents continuously reminding me that my filthy soul needed saving or Wednesday nights at prayer meetings that I plaintively begged my mother to be allowed to attend. The church bus would lumber its way around the country roads on which I grew up and myself and all my friends would clamber aboard and, in the dark recesses of the bus, do things that were decidedly un-Christlike.

Yeah, I had my first awkward, fumbling make-out session on the church bus.

All of this aside, I have always been repugnantly fascinated by the Catholic church. Powerful to the extent they could be considered a candidate for world domination, the Catholic church and the Vatican have always frightened me a bit.

It may have been because, in a fit of anger at my teenage self, my mom threatened to send me to a convent.

Then there’s the idea of the pope. I know very little about the pope and what he actually does, so I feel not at all qualified to form an opinion. However, this newest pope seems very different. He actually seems like he gives a shit, and while the church itself still pulls the strings, Pope Francis acts like he has scissors in his pocket and he’s not afraid to use them.

This week Pope Francis arrives in Mexico. When he paid a papal visit to the United States a few months ago I was shocked at the hordes of people who came out to see him, hoping for a touch, a wave, even mere eye contact. That was the United States, and this is Mexico. A land where Catholicism still goes toe to toe with ancient Mayan and Aztec religious practices, but a land that also has at least one church for every neighborhood.

On this visit, the pope will come to our little town of San Cristobal. When the rumors started flying a few months ago that His Holiness would pay a visit to our little, alpine town I started to wonder why. Then as more information came out it became clear; each pope has his own personal agenda and Pope Francis has a fondness for indigenous peoples and refugees.

If you know anything about Chiapas then you know that there have been tenuous ties between the people who have lived here for thousands of years and the suits in Mexico City. You may also recall the uprising of nearly 25 years ago that became known as the Zapatista movement. Many experts have varying opinions as to the hows and the whys of this peasant movement, but most agree that it was all the fault of NAFTA. Or the devaluation of the Mexican peso. Or widespread corruption within the government. Hell, it was probably all three, and then some.

Without rehashing the history of a very tumultuous time in Mexican history (you can read a very good account of that period in the book Bordering on Chaos) the point is that Pope Francis is coming to San Cristobal to show some sort of solidarity with the Chiapanecas, and to (allegedly) honor the now dead priest –Father Samuel Ruiz– who acted as a mediator of sorts between the indigenous people, their leader Subcomandante Marcos, and the Mexican government.

So, next Monday the Pope will arrive in San Cristobal. He’ll perform a Mass at the local baseball stadium which had to be extensively remodeled and enlarged to accommodate the crowds, and he’ll give that Mass in Spanish and two Mayan dialects. He’ll then visit the Cathedral that is about 5 minutes from my house.

Catedral de San Cristóbal de las Casas by kurtfrida via Creative Commons

The US State Department issued a memo regarding this visit, and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t all gloom and doom. It simply warned of heavy traffic, closed roads, and that it’s advisable to stock up on food and water.

However, it’s the presence of the Mexican military that I’m most interested in seeing. Chiapas is still a very raw place, and the Chiapanecas are still very vocal in their displeasure, which usually translates to roadblocks and spray paint. The aforementioned cathedral is always covered in political graffiti, which local painters have been scrambling to cover in anticipation of El Papa. I’m sure there are guards posted now so the taggers are kept at bay and the pope doesn’t have to see yet another fervent cry for justice for The 43.

Of course, rumors are flying around San Cristobal. Are all the roads near the square and the cathedral going to be closed? I don’t have a ticket to the Mass so will I still be able to get a glimpse of the pope? He’s coming in and out by helicopter; can I see the popecopter from my roof?

Regardless of exactly how this visit will go down, this is the official schedule.

Monday 15 February 2016

07:30 Departure by plane for Tuxtla Gutiérrez

09:15 Transfer by helicopter to San Cristóbal de Las Casas

10:15 Holy Mass with the indigenous community of Chiapas at the Municipal Sports (Homily by the Holy Father)

13:00 Lunch with indigenous representatives and the Papal entourage

15:00 Visit to the Cathedral of San Cristòbal de las Casas

15:35 Transfer by helicopter to Tuxtla Gutiérrez

16:15 Meeting with Families in “Víctor Manuel Reyna” Stadium at Tuxtla Gutiérrez (Discourse by the Holy Father)

18:10 Departure by plane for Mexico City

20:00 Arrival at the airport in Mexico City

Despite all of my misgivings about religion, I am ridiculously excited about this event. While my chances of actually laying eyes on the pope are slim, Mexicans do love a party and I expect this one celebrating the Papal visit will be one for the record books.

Regardless, I’ll be out in the fray, camera in hand, elbow to elbow with the truly devout and the ones like me, who are just a little pope-curious.

A Week in Puerto Escondido

February 8, 2016 by Cate Brubaker

I think that I’m a pretty weather-savvy person. After all, I took a meteorology course in university and I can easily explain orographic lift. What I seem to have forgotten is that temperatures drop at altitude, and I also seem to have forgotten that San Cristobal de las Casas sits at nearly 7,000 feet.

This means that during the winter months it gets cold. One shouldn’t need a meteorology course to know that.

When Will announced that he was taking the first week of February off work I craftily hatched a plan. It’s only a 12 hour bus ride to Puerto Escondido on the southern shore of Oaxaca state, so why not take a trip to the beach.

He needed very little convincing and off we went.

About Puerto Escondido

Puerto Escondido is a funky little beach town frequented by backpackers and retirees, and is the perfect place for a beach adventure. There’s not much to do there unless you’re a surfer, and you’d better be a damn good one at that. The famous summer swell at Playa Zicatela here can reach heights of 30 feet or more, but during the winter it’s more calm.

Given the fact that much of Mexico was plagued with a nasty and unusual cold front I expected the town to be teeming with those eager to escape the frigid temperatures, but it was relatively quiet, just the way I like it.

Where We Stayed

We’re Airbnb fans through and through but for some reason the dates available, the prices, and the locations weren’t exactly what we were looking for so we decided on a hotel. We chose the Hotel Rockaway mainly due to its location right in the middle of the Playa Zicatela action, but the price was right too.

The rooms were bright and comfortable (a little too bright at night as they don’t offer blackout curtains and the pool lights are left on) and the included breakfast was fantastic. Available from 8am until 12pm, the breakfast consists of fresh fruit, Mexican faves like chilaquiles, and the best pancakes I’ve ever had. Seriously, I swear there was crack in said pancakes.

If you decide to stay at the Hotel Rockaway ask for a room nearer to the reception side of the property. There was a rooster on the other side of the fence from our room and, as is always the case, roosters have no respect for quiet hours. However, he could have been made into soup by now, which is the only reason to keep a rooster in my opinion.

What We Did

Since the purpose of this trip was to escape the cold and give my poor, overworked husband some downtime we didn’t do a whole lot. We lazed on the beach and watched the surfers, napped in the afternoon, always staked out prime beach chairs for sunset, and were talked into a whale watching trip by a smooth salesman named Antonio.

The whale watching trip was fantastic, as I’ll always take any excuse to be on the water, but I frankly wasn’t expecting much. However, we did see a few humpbacks surface from quite a distance away, but we also had some up close and personal dolphin sightings.

Zicatela is not the only beach in the area. We took an afternoon and visited Playa Carrizalillo. It’s much smaller and due to its protected bay it’s a much better alternative for swimming. Servers dodged left and right with platters of freshly shucked oysters and frosty beers and the sunset was equally spectacular.

What We Ate

As is the case with Mexico you can find any type of cuisine you want. However, when you’re at the beach you should really eat the fish. I don’t eat a lot of fish for various reasons, but I do eat crustaceans and shrimp tacos always top my list.

We also stopped in for sushi one night at Samuray. One of the town’s more upscale joints, I was extremely pleased with the crab and shrimp rolls. They offered seating on the beach and the service was excellent. We liked it so much we returned for our last dinner in town.

Getting There

Puerto Escondido does offer an airport, but in our case it would have required a flight to Mexico City first, then a connecting flight. In my opinion, the bus is the best option. Bus travel is rarely something to write home about, but ADO –the local Mexican bus company– does a good job and the prices are right. You can reach Puerto Escondido by bus from just about anywhere in the country.

If you’re looking for a beach getaway in Mexico you could do a lot worse than Puerto Escondido. Lacking the crowds of areas like Cancun and Puerto Vallarta, Puerto Escondido is hip, laid back, and the perfect place to enjoy Mexico at its best.

And stay at the Rockaway, if only for the pancakes.

Fantastic Hotels on Hawaii’s Southern Islands

September 9, 2015 by Cate Brubaker

As one of the most popular destinations in the world, Hawaii gets a great deal of attention from visitors from both the mainland United States and the rest of the globe. With its mild climate, beautiful beaches, exotic rain forests, and the aloha spirit displayed by the locals, Hawaii is a dream vacation for almost anyone.

When most people think of Hawaii they tend to think of Honolulu, famous for Waikiki Beach and located on the island of Oahu. As the most populous island and with direct flights from many US cities, Honolulu tends to get more visitors than the neighbor islands. However, each of the islands in the Hawaiian chain offers its own unique landscapes and fantastically fun adventures for all.

If you’d like to venture away from the hustle and bustle of Hawaii’s largest city and its most densely populated island, consider some of these hotels on Maui and hotels on the Big Island and truly get away from it all during your visit to the Aloha State.

Uncle Billy’s Kona Bay Hotel, Kailua Kona, Big Island

Located on the west side of the Big Island, Kailua Kona is home to the Ironman World Championship and some of the most beautiful beaches in the state. Surrounded by vast lava fields Kailua Kona is a charming little town and is the perfect locale from which to explore the rest of the leeward coast.

Uncle Billy’s Kona Bay Hotel is recently remodeled and is located just steps from Ali’i Drive where you’ll find shops and restaurants galore. Be sure to visit their poolside bar for a tropical concoction and great people watching. Be sure to upload your great Instagram photos using the hotel’s free wifi.

Kona Hawaii Guesthouse, Kailua Kona, Big Island

Located a few blocks mauka (toward the mountains in Hawaiian) of Ali’i Drive is Kona Hawaii Guesthouse. A quaint property reminiscent of a bed and breakfast, Kona Hawaii Guesthouse offers free wifi and is within walking distance of Magic Sands Beach and the Holualoa Gallery.

For a small fee this hotel offers free airport pickup for all guests.

Wyndham Royal Sea Cliff, Kailua Kona, Big Island

For a touch of luxury and a truly Hawaiian themed resort, try the Wyndham Royal Sea Cliff, located a mile and a half south of Kona town. This property offers sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean and gorgeous grounds that practically beg for a sunset stroll.

This hotel offers condo style rooms with one or two bedrooms and kitchenettes. The rooms all feature free wifi and balconies, some with ocean views. It is possible to walk to Kona from this resort, but a car is recommended to fully explore the area.

Luana Kai Resort, Kihei, Maui

Located on Maui, also called the Valley Isle, is the Luana Kai Resort in Kihei. Located directly in front of Waipuilani Park and the magnificent Pacific Ocean, Luana Kai and its condo style rooms make for the perfect stay on the southwestern shores of Maui.

Take advantage of the property’s pool and tennis courts, and be sure to ask the helpful staff about local activities. And remember that November through March is whale season, and sometimes you’ll be able to see a magnificent humpback breaching right from the hotel grounds.

Maui Sunseeker LGBT Resort, Kihei, Maui

As an adults only, LGBT friendly resort, the Maui Sunseeker LGBT Resort in Kihei is the perfect locale for those who enjoy a relaxed vibe in a beautiful setting. The rooms here offer mini fridges and microwaves, as well as free wifi.

Take advantage of the clothing optional pool, and the clothing optional sundeck on the roof. The surrounding area offers many dining and shopping options, as well.

This is a sponsored post and is part of Hipmunk’s boutique hotel campaign. All written content is my own.

Best Laid Plans

September 7, 2015 by Cate Brubaker

When we boarded the bus in Tulum on the night of July 31, four suitcases and backpacks in tow, we had every intention of reaching Mexico City 10 days later. We had planned stops in San Cristobal de las Casas and Oaxaca along the way, but as is usually the case with us, these best laid plans often take unexpected turns.

As I settled into my seat on the bus, hoodie on to ward of the notorious ADO air conditioning and sleepy time pills at the ready, I was excited for our first stop 17 hours later. We fell asleep to palm trees and woke up to pines and we wound our way up through the mountains and finally arrived in San Cristobal.

We had to take two cabs to our hotel as shock absorbers aren’t quite what they should be on the older models and our bags were heavy, but after a quick check in and some freshening up, we hit the streets for a cocktail as is our modus operandi. We parked at a sidewalk table at Cafe Revolution and I surveyed my surroundings.

Cobbled pedestrian streets bustling with activity. Bright, sunny sky and mild temperatures. Mountains barely visible above the buildings but bursting with green. I sipped my tequila and smiled at Will.

“Maybe we should just stay?”

A few days prior as we were telling our friend in Tulum of our plans he said, “You’re going to get to San Cristobal and not want to leave.”

Will had been extolling the virtues of San Cristobal for almost as long as I’ve known him. He was here several years ago when things were very different and the military had a very obvious presence. But as I sat at that cafe on that bright afternoon all I saw was Mexico, the Mexico I had never seen in my time in the Riviera Maya.

After that first day we talked about extending our three days to seven. After the second day, we talked about extending that seven days to thirty. We found an Airbnb near El Centro and booked it for a month. It was easily the most uncomfortable and most poorly laid out apartment that I have ever experienced, and that drove us to the real estate office.

We looked at a few places, none of which was absolutely perfect, then we saw the sign on the unassuming orange house just two blocks from the pedestrian street and four blocks from the square. We called the number and made an appointment to see it. I walked into exposed brick and tile floors, wood paneling on the walls, a rooftop terrace, and ample space for home offices and guest rooms.

I fell in love and we signed the lease the next day.

So here we are, locked into a year in San Cristobal de las Casas, and I love everything about it. It’s chilly sometimes, but that just means that I can buy cozy sweaters handmade from local, organic wool for about 13 USD. My kitchen is a little bit small but that just means that we can stroll over to Guadalupe Street and take our pick of cheap eats. The tourist areas can get a little hectic, but if I walk a few blocks further I can shop at the local market, bursting with fresh produce, meat, and eggs, all available for just a few pesos. There’s also a riding stable, which means my helmet and boots don’t have to languish in the back of the closet.

Just a fraction of the fresh food available here.

And if we really need something familiar there’s a Sam’s Club fifteen minutes away.

Do I regret not making it to Mexico City? Yes and no. I was looking forward to living in a big city again, and taking advantage of all the options that entails. Museums, concerts, shopping, restaurants, and people were all things that I was looking forward to.

But when I step outside and the air isn’t full of particulate matter, I can see the blue sky, and traffic doesn’t really exist for me because I can walk everywhere I realize that this is exactly where we need to be right now.

And so we’re almost one month into our year in Chiapas, and I couldn’t be happier.

A Tale of Two Mexicos

August 15, 2015 by Cate Brubaker

As an American I have always been keenly aware of Mexico. My mother studied Spanish in Mexico City in the 1960’s, at a time when she was young and idealistic and the world was a much different place.

In my twenties I ventured over the borders into Matamoros and Juarez, nervous and giggly, needing only my driver’s license to ensure my identity. But I was tall and blonde and privileged even then, although I wasn’t entirely aware of it.

Since those salad days of the 1990’s there has been a shift in the way that America and her people see Mexico. On one hand it’s the blind eye turned to the legal and illegal Mexican immigrants who produce our food, mow our lawns, and raise our kids.

On the other hand it’s a strange and wild rage at desperate people who would dare cross our borders and take these jobs from us, the ones that no Americans seem to be applying for. Mexico is both reliable and a liability, and this perceived threat has so many up in arms that it’s sometimes dizzyingly incomprehensible.

Unless, of course, you’re going to Mexico on vacation.

There’s something that is perfectly acceptable about visiting Cancun or Puerto Vallarta. There’s nothing wrong with never speaking a lick of Spanish when you order a margarita on the beach in Tulum. For many people who visit the Mayan Riviera it’s almost with a sense of entitlement; yes, you need a passport to get there but it’s really not much more than an extension of Florida in the eyes of many a gringo.

Unless you’re Mexican.

I wrote previously about why you should tip in Mexico. I mentioned that most Mexicans who work in the service industry in the Mayan Riviera have learned English themselves, they really do go the extra mile to do their jobs.

Then there were the construction workers. If you’re my friend on Facebook you may remember my often vicious posts about the jackhammers as a new development was going up across the street from my apartment. What I didn’t post was that the laborers who worked that project lived on site, in a shack hastily thrown together from tarps and sheet metal. They will live there until the project is done. They will work from sunup to sundown.

They are paid the equivalent of 5 USD a day which is the Mexican minimum wage, unless their boss is more generous.

Aside from the beaches of Mexico’s coasts, most people simply don’t think of Mexico at all. They don’t think of the lush alpine forests, the pristine canyons, the high deserts, or the wintertime snow. It’s as if nothing exists between the Caribbean and the Pacific.

Except the cartels.

It’s no secret that Mexico has a corruption problem. Many countries in the world do, including the United States. The difference is that Mexico and her people don’t deny it. They don’t pretend it doesn’t exist. They don’t blame the poor people and worship fat cat businessmen who encourage that blame. The violence that takes place in Mexico is vicious and nasty, and is in some ways very similar to the violence that is taking place in the United States.

Only here, people care.

And they are very, very vocal.

Last September, 43 students from a teacher’s college in the state of Guerrero were “disappeared”. The school they attended was known for its liberal and left wing teaching style, and someone was displeased by that. These students were passionate about change and they hoped to share that passion with their future students.

Many of their bodies have not yet been found or identified.

The entire country erupted and its populace took to the streets in mass protests. While the outrage is similar, this was no Ferguson. The Mexican people are no strangers to protest. While many of the police are just corrupt as the politicians that hand down the orders, many more are aligned with their people.

And so the protests go on, and the demands for justice continue.

And the people with the most dangerous jobs in Mexico are hard at work.

In the United States the labels of “brave” or “courageous” are handed out freely to those who choose to join the military or police service. Sure, there is a chance that there will be that time when their life is truly in danger. but they have weapons and training to help mitigate the damage.

In Mexico the bravest and most courageous have no weapons, no combat training, and no one to call for backup.

They are the journalists.

Just recently, a journalist was found dead in an apartment in an middle class neighborhood in Mexico City. He was from the turbulent state of Veracruz and wrote something that someone didn’t like.

Dead, disappeared… it’s all the same thing.

We arrived in San Cristobal de las Casas two weeks ago, home to the Zapatista uprising of twenty years ago. This is a very different Mexico than the one I left in Tulum. The state of Chiapas is no stranger to conflict, yet there is something else abundantly apparent here.

It’s pride.

Mexican people are as fiercely proud of their country as you are of yours, but I find vast differences between the two. Everyone here will take to the streets if an injustice calls for it. No one watches on television and disparages fed-up people for doing the only thing they can.

Speak out.

Loudly.

And if you’re a journalist in Mexico who isn’t on the government payroll, then your life is on the line.

On every line you write.

For those of you who only think of Mexico as an unpleasant nuisance whose citizens keep jumping borders, think again. For those of you who have been to Cancun and were thrilled that everyone spoke English at Senor Frog’s and you could use US dollars everywhere, think again.

Mexico is a land of brave people, hard working people who only want the same things that people everywhere want. The chance to learn, grow, raise their children, and feel safe. And I’ve found that the Mexicans I know are more than willing to fight for that.

And I’ve just scratched the surface.

4 Great Hotel Bars Near Times Square

August 14, 2015 by Cate Brubaker

I love cocktails. I love cocktail bars. I love dive bars and swanky bars and everything in between. I love bars with a subdued, relaxed vibe. I love bars that are raucous and lively. Let’s face it; I just love bars.

When I travel my modus operandi is to drop my bags and ask the hotel concierge where the nearest bar is. Many times they simply refer me to the hotel’s own bar, and I’m fine with that. I’ll order my drink, relax, and scope out my fellow patrons. It’s a great way to decompress and engage in one of my favorite activities: people watching.

New York City hotels are numerous, and therefore it’s safe to assume that it’s rife with hotel bars as well. It’s also a large city so investigating each and every one of these bars would be a time consuming and hangover inducing job. Pay me well enough and I just might take that challenge.

But, in the absence of time I’ve elected to focus on one the city’s most popular areas, Times Square. If you find yourself in need of a break from from the crowds and chaos, duck into one of these hotel bars in Times Square and relax with a much needed cocktail.

Hotel Edison

The Hotel Edison at Times Square features one of the city’s most iconic bars, the Rum House. As the name implies, Th4e Rum House focuses on specialty cocktails featuring small batch rums from around the world. Live jazz music is available Wednesday through Saturday nights, and the decor combined with the music creates an atmosphere that can’t be beat. For those who might need a bit of morning inspiration, the Rum House also offers six different Bloody Mary choices.

The Intercontinental Times Square

With the luxury and impeccable service that the Intercontinental chain is known for, it’s no surprise the the Intercontinental Times Square delivers all that and then some. Their Ca Va’s Fireside Lounge serves up inspired cocktails in an incredibly luxurious setting. Try one of their specialty drinks before or after a Broadway show.

Waldorf Astoria New York

Could it get any fancier than the Waldorf Astoria New York? The name is synonymous with luxury, and a visit here will have you rubbing elbows with the city’s movers and shakers, and maybe a celebrity or two. Try a hand-crafted cocktail with a side of live jazz at the Peacock Alley Bar & Lounge, or head to the Bull and Bear, consistently voted as one of the best bars in the entire world.

Crowne Plaza Times Square Manhattan

With a stunning view of the lights and action on Broadway, the Crowne Plaza Times Square Manhattan and its Broadway 49 Bar and Lounge is a sublime place to enjoy a cocktail. The bartenders here create fresh, seasonal cocktails and there is an extensive list of specially selected wines by the glass.

The hustle and bustle of Times Square can be exciting, but sometimes you may simply need a spot to relax and decompress away from the crowds. Duck into one of these cocktail bars and let the spirits carry you away.

This post is sponsored by Hipmunk. All content and opinions are my own, and I really do love bars.

Serenity in Lake Arrowhead, California

August 12, 2015 by Cate Brubaker

Some people love big cities. The hustle and bustle and the seemingly endless activities draw crowds of people eager to experience these monoliths of culture. Los Angeles is one such city. With its glamorous history and decadent ambience, it’s no wonder that Los Angeles is high on the lists of many travelers.

But what if you’re looking for something different? Perhaps something that celebrates the natural beauty of California instead of the sometimes over-the-top feel of Los Angeles?

If you find yourself with a car and the two hours it takes to drive there, Lake Arrowhead is like a haven of serenity just outside one of the biggest cities in the world. Located in the stunning San Bernardino National Forest, and tucked against the shores of the beautiful alpine lake of the same name, Lake Arrowhead brings together delightful scenery, numerous hotels and restaurants, and abundant peace and quiet.

Nature lovers will be thrilled at the many hiking trails in and around the National Forest. Many hotels, such as the Lake Arrowhead Resort and Spa actively encourage their guests to explore the surroundings with guided hikes on Saturdays, each hosted by a member of the San Bernardino National Forest Service Association. This is a fantastic way to learn more about the plants and animals that call this ecosystem home.

During the summer months Lake Arrowhead Village bustles with activity. Learn to water ski, take a leisurely cruise around the lake on the Lake Arrowhead Queen boat tour, or attend one of the numerous free concerts held at Center Stage. If you’re visiting with a group, table reservations can be made for the concerts so you’ll truly be center stage.

Shoppers will will feel right at home amongst the many outlet stores that has made Lake Arrowhead a premier destination for fashionistas. From clothing and shoes, to art and children’s items, Lake Arrowhead has it all. Be sure to keep an eye on their coupon website to save even more.

If you’re more foodie than fashionista Lake Arrowhead has it all. Try Bin 189 for an innovative new American take on breakfast, lunch, and dinner, or try a craft beer and an innovative pub style menu at Pj’s Restaurant & Brewhouse. If you’re craving pizza, Thai cuisine, or even sushi, Lake Arrowhead satisfies all those urges, and then some.

In the winter months Lake Arrowhead becomes a sports lover’s dream. Four ski resorts grace the area; Bear Mountain, Snow Summit, and Snow Valley are all open to skiers and snowboarders. Rim Nordic caters exclusively to snowshoers and cross country skiers, and also offers an ice skating pond.

Some people thrive in a city. Some people prefer the great outdoors. The best part of Southern California is that both are easily accessible. However, when you land at LAX you might find yourself skipping the taxi bound for Hollywood and move toward the rental car counter instead.
Lake Arrowhead, here we come!

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