All in all I covered over 34,000 miles, and seven countries. Please enjoy this 2014 travel summary!

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

January: Panama, USA

After saying goodbye to a hellish year in 2013, I greeted 2014 near Panama City, where I was house-sitting. I stayed on through mid-January continuing to discover this country of contrast (See also: Panama: A Wild West), before flying to Hollywood Florida to visit a long-time friend.

For a couple of weeks we had a great time catching up, however I was craving some personal space, so I left to indulge in some alone time in Gulfport Florida.

February: USA

The first week or so of February I explored the very pretty town of Gulfport before hopping over to Santa Rosa Beach (Florida) to stay the rest of the month with another long-time friend.

Santa Rosa Beach is one of the most consistent places I’ve visited in all of my full-time travels (having visited the last three years running), and although the weather was cold, the company of my friends was warm and fun.

March: USA, Canada, Peru

A series of very serendipitous events led me from Florida to Peru in March. But in order to get there, I flew up to Toronto for a few days, not only to say a quick hello to my family and friends, but also to catch a mystery shopping flight to Peru, which saved me 50% on the cost of airfare.

April: Peru

April saw me settling into my digs in Peru and discovering the magic of the Sacred Valley. I started off with a five day trek through the Andes ending up in Machu Picchu.

I also got to know the little town of Pisac where I was living, and explored some of the prevalent spiritual opportunities which included receiving the rites of the Munay Ki.

May: Peru

My exploration of Peru continued through May with more Andean treks including the high Andean lakes of Kinsa Cocha, the ancient agricultural lab (or alien landing pad?) of Moray, and the incredible salt mines of Maras.

I also got a strange email from a reader who wanted to move in with me, and I started to learn about plant medicines in Peru such as San Pedro and Ayahuasca.

June: Peru, Canada

After doing one last three-day trek through the mountains to Lares Hot Springs, and making a quick stop in Lima to overdose on ceviche, I left Peru to enjoy summer in the northern hemisphere. Having been on a permanent mission to avoid winter for the last eight years, I’m accustomed to hopping hemispheres according to season (or sticking close to the equator).

July: Canada, USA

For July and part of August, I based my operations in Toronto while visiting family and friends.

I made a quick trip to the Florida Keys where I discovered the magic of Key West and met all kinds of people who visited the Keys and never left.

On my return to Canada, I spent a couple of weeks with my Mum in the cottage country area of Muskoka; a very special place for me with a lifetime of memories.

August: Canada, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy

In August I decided to “pop” over to Europe (via Istanbul) to visit some friends on the south coast of Spain. Having been to Spain many times, I was least impressed with the Costa del Sol, but I nevertheless appreciated spending time with my friends and exploring new places, including Gibraltar.

I capped off my European adventures with a visit to another friend in Pesaro Italy, where I was treated to amazing local hospitality and culture, and home-cooked food so good that I will never look at Italian food (outside of Italy) the same way again. (See also: Living Like a Local in Italy)

September: Peru

After spending my end-of-August birthday with my family and friends in Canada, I returned to a place that resonated me as a new home: Peru (See also: I’m Going Back to Peru: Here’s Why). After a hectic summer travel itinerary, I spent most of September relaxing and settling back into my Peruvian digs. I did get out of the house a few times though(!), including a trip to the Barratio market in Cusco.

October: Peru

I branched out a little more in October, attending a Peruvian wedding, and also making an attempted climb up mount Pachatusan, which ended very differently – but possibly more rewardingly – than I could possibly have imagined.

October also marked the end of a very long battle with lawyers and insurance companies in the aftermath of a near-fatal accident I suffered in Grenada in February 2013. I lost the battle, but in so doing I won my life back. (See also: Cutting Your Losses: Why I’m Losing, in Order to Win)

November: Peru

In November I continued to do work with the various plant medicines of Peru, I did a beautiful walk from Cusco to the ancient ruins of Huchuy Qosqo, and I kept working hard on becoming fluent in Spanish.

I also started planning a two-month trip to escape the rainy season in Peru (January through March), and although my intention was to visit Australia and New Zealand with a frequent flyer mile ticket, I ended up spending $1700 on absolutely nothing – not even flights. But I got over that pretty quickly, when I realized there were even better travel opportunities around the next corner – which you’ll learn about soon.

December: Peru

I laid relatively low in December, partly because my purse was stolen in Cusco, leaving me without any money (other than what I could borrow from friends, which I limited to necessities only). Although I learned a lot from the incident, it wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it might be, and in fact, I saw more blessings than curses come of it.

December marks eight years since I sold everything I owned in Canada and started my full-time travel adventures, and I spent some time reflecting on this amazing journey that has allowed me to live and travel through over 50 countries. If you’d have asked me 10 years ago where I would be now, my wildest imagination wouldn’t have placed me in the Sacred Valley of Peru with the repertoire of experiences (good, bad, and otherwise) that I now have.

And life continues to change and evolve; with a home base in Peru (at least for now), I’m changing the way I travel and how I work. I have some local focuses here in Peru that are taking more of my time in an incredibly satisfying way; things that I will write about more soon enough, when I find the right words.

Happy Holiday Season, and here’s to an amazing year in 2015!

Other Annual Travel Summaries

2013: 12 Countries and 29,000 miles

2012: 8 Countries and 20,000 miles (video here)

2011: 13 Countries and 73,000 kms

2010: 9 Countries (unknown miles/kms)

My First Four Years of Full-Time Travel (2007-2010)

This post 7 Countries and 34,000 Miles: 2014 Travel Summary appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

Panama is Costa Rica’s neighbour, but somehow I hadn’t made the connection that such glorious wildlife would be there as well. There is a crush of greenery and accompanying wildlife that dares to take over anything that isn’t lived in.

Even simply sitting on the terrace where I was house-sitting, armed with a laminated guide to Panama’s wildlife and some binoculars, I became entranced with spotting various forms of wildlife. I was staying in a relatively developed area, and even there, I was told pumas have made appearances to drink in the nearby stream and hunt domesticated chickens.

I never caught sight of a puma, but here are some of the creatures I did have a chance to meet.

See also:
Panama: A Wild West
Faces of Panama: A Photo Essay

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

The Birds of Panama

On arrival in Panama, I wondered if I’d stepped into Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds; at any time, I could look into the sky and see up to hundreds of birds all circling from a few feet off the ground to hundreds of feet high in a disorganized tornado of sorts. Vultures, eagles, hawks, and a variety of other birds would engage in this circling together. To what end they do this I don’t know, but it was strange and beautiful to watch.

The birds in general had the greatest impact on me, with their colours and copiousness. I never fancied myself a bird-watcher, but in Panama, I couldn’t help myself.

Hit the beach where the fishermen come in with their catches, and you’ll find pelicans in abundance. The beach – which is strewn with fishermen’s carcasses and other products of the abundant Pacific – is a frenzied feeding ground for pelicans, vultures, egrets, and other scavengers. If there’s no action on the beach, the pelicans all roost in the trees, bending the branches with their weight and sheer numbers.

And of course, there is the toucan, which was a triumphant victory to spot (and take pictures of!), and for me, represents the magic of Panama’s wildlife. Their call is unique, akin to a croak or a wooden dowel on a washboard, and every time I heard one I had to try and spot it.

I actually took all my toucan pictures with my iPhone through the binoculars – a feat unto itself.

The Critters

Where there’s big wildlife, there’s also small. I had my share of bites from mosquitoes, sand flies, and other unidentified culprits, but it was manageable.

And not all the bugs were annoying, case in point:

I don’t know how many multitudes of flying and crawling critters I encountered in Panama (in the house!), but with the open-concept breezy design of the house it was to be expected that I’d have a few roommates.

Creepy as that may sound, they rarely were a nuisance; more often a point of curiosity than anything else.

Moths would regularly come for a visit in the evenings, drawn in by the light. So too would bats (I like bats. I’m strange that way), grasshoppers, and dozens of insects of the flying ilk.

By day, hummingbirds and huge butterflies would visit the terrace (and dozens of insects of the flying ilk).

A perk to all these insects of the flying ilk, are the geckos and lizards. I saw 23 geckos from my seat on the terrace one evening, all battling for territory on the ceilings and walls.

I’m telling you. Just sitting on my terrace in Panama was like an episode of National Geographic.

The Ocean Life

My partner had a chance to go spearfishing with some local fishermen. After a day of fishing, the two Panamanian spear-fishers alone managed to bring in 57 20lb fish – half a ton of fish – in their wooden boat with a dodgy motor, just an hour off-shore.

I balked at the take they brought in, fearing for over-fishing. But when these guys are diving down and actually hunting the fish, one by one, it seems like a much more equitable game – and all the more indicative of just how much fish is out there. (I also later learned that they fish fairly sporadically, as opposed to every day).

But then, if these spear-fishers are catching such a bounty with a mask, fins, and spear, you can imagine what more industrial operations haul in. Large shrimping vessels are consistently parked offshore, hauling in langoustinos, like these:

Panama’s Wildlife: The Other Things

I saw a few frogs (some so bright that if I had licked them I’m sure it would have been a psychedelic experience), and the odd rodent which might have been a capybara. I also clocked some possums and monkeys that visited a neighbour’s tree at dusk, and a very large iguana unsuccessfully camouflaging itself in a very small tree.

Even a family of horses wandered the area and could be found grazing outside the front gate some days; they were technically owned by a family in the area, but had roaming privileges.

I encountered most of Panama’s wildlife passively; I didn’t go on an eco-trek or deep into any forests. With the abundance of wildlife, most of the time all I had to do was sit on the terrace and be observant and quiet, and it all came to me.

Sounds to me like another good case for slow travel.

This post Living Amongst Panama’s Wildlife appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

You’ll see that most of these pictures are of men. This is because of how and where we were initially welcomed into the area. Had I stayed longer, I’d have met many more women who might not have been as camera shy.

Anthony Bourdain once said of traveling the world: “Drink heavily with the locals wherever you go”. I’m not a drinker, but I did my best to nurse a few beers and discover if there was truth behind this idea.

He was right. Here’s what happened:

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

This is the kind owner of a local bar – a man who we came to call “Papi” for his fatherly demeanour. We were driving by his bar shortly after arriving, just exploring the area, when he came out and waved us in. He was instrumental in making us feel comfortable, and protecting me from anybody who might try to hassle me.

During subsequent visits, he fed us many times, we were invited into his home, we met all his family, and he told his life story. You might not know it to look at him, but Papi – like many Panamanians that defy first impressions – is quite well off, owning multiple homes, large plots of land, and businesses.

This is a group of fishermen who we met next to Papi’s bar, which is at the hub of the town’s plentiful fishing activities. I wasn’t there on this particular outing, but I’m told while all the women were upstairs cooking on this Sunday afternoon, they did boys did what boys do.

Ricardo, as soon as he met me, took off the necklace he was wearing – a traditional Panamanian flute/whistle – and gave it to me. “Hermana” he said (meaning sister), when he refused the money I tried to give him as thanks.

When Ricardo’s friend saw me taking pictures of the plentiful pelicans on the beach, he wrangled one for me to get a closer look at it. The pelican was none too thrilled with the exercise, so I got a few shots and encouraged them to let it go.

What I didn’t realize until a few minutes later was that they actually tag the pelicans to track their patterns. After our little photo shoot, they gently tagged and released it.

This guy was a little over-enthusiastic about everything, but his intentions were good….

This man seemed a little strange at first, sitting in the corner and not talking to anybody. One day we were invited to plug in our iPhone and play some of our music. (Teaching Latin Americans how to dance to reggae was very amusing).

As soon as a song by Adele came on, this guy came to life, jumped up, and started dancing like he was at a rave. After coming together through music, if we ever ran into him at Papi’s bar, he regularly bought us drinks and ended up being a good conversation partner, and a very kind gentle soul.

During one of Panama’s typical downpours, this family who owns a shop selling langoustinos (which are like giant prawns) scrambled to save their stock as the water rushed into their home and business. They lost it all that day, but they never seemed to lose their smiles.

As I wrap up my house-sitting gig in Panama, I’m thankful for seeing these many sides – and faces – of Panama.

This post Faces of Panama – A Photo Essay appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

I will preface my observations by saying this is my first time deep in Central or South America. I suspect that some of my observations might be similar to the pulse of other Latin American countries (especially the readiness for potential violence). In other cases, I think Panama is in a unique position, as you’ll learn in the coming paragraphs. Read on…

This post was originally published in 2014. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

The Panama Canal

The first thing that differentiates Panama from any other country is the existence of the Panama Canal; something that has revolutionized shipping channels, and very firmly puts Panama – this narrow strip of country that connects Central and South America – on the world’s radar.

A lot of money passes through that canal every day. A lot. And Panama gets its cut (those boats don’t pass through for free).

The canal is 100% Panamanian (despite initial constructions done with the US), and it employs a huge number of people, not only to run and maintain the canal’s 24-hour operations, but also for their current massive expansion project. The lowest-paying job on the canal pays well more than the average wage of $400US/month – and it’s considered a job for life.

To what degree the money earned by the canal itself is infused into the economy is unknown to me. Panama has been a site of political instability, and corruption has existed – and probably continues to exist. (Read on about the Empty Skyscrapers to get an idea).

Developing, but Developed

I would consider Panama a developing country, but it seems to have an edge on other developing countries. People drive nice new cars. Cars, which I learned are ridiculously taxed making them even more expensive to buy.

The Albrook Mall in Panama City is a massive shopping centre (even by North American standards), with every kind of store you can imagine, including the full complement of designer stores. It’s not the only shopping centre of this ilk, and they’re consistently packed. With Panamanians.

Even the “ramshackle” housing (outside which nice cars are often parked) is not necessarily indicative of poverty. People have disposable income, and many of them own their plots.

New construction is everywhere. Everything seems to be in various states of completion; although at times it’s hard to determine exactly what they’re doing – or rather taking so long to do. (I think it’s a tropical thing).

Travel along the PanAmerican Highway and you’ll see Panama’s version of suburbia, with masses of identical houses. I’m told at least some these swaths of homes are giant relocation projects, but I’m not sure of the general sentiment of the people being relocated nor what sort of “deal” they got. It might be considered an opportunity to have your own plot of land and a house if you’ve just been relocated from a dilapidated building of squatters in the city with machine-gun-toting police guarding every doorway. But somehow I doubt many relocation projects are embraced or transpire so smoothly – especially if the people being relocated already have their own home and community that developers intend to demolish.

Preparing For….?

I’ve felt a sense of fierce pride among Panamanians – despite the crumbling walls and garbage lining the roads and beaches. The pride seems to be two-fold; it’s a pride in the land and life they have, and have fought for more than once (Panama has multiple “independence days”). But in some places, it’s also a pride in knowing that they have what other people want, and will (hopefully) pay for.

I’ve been staying in Veracruz, a fishing village about 20 minutes outside of Panama City, on the Pacific side. This is a prime location for development and tourism. You know it’s coming too; infrastructure such as new street lamps now line the largely undeveloped (but well maintained) road to Veracruz.

The people who live in Veracruz know they’re on a prime spot, and it’s a gold mine – but one that might not become so without some conflict.

I was chatting with a local fellow in his early 20’s. He was proudly brandishing his latest purchase – a grenade – for $200. Looking at his foolish grin, I asked him why he bought it – was it a toy for him? (Panamanians have a penchant for fireworks every day of the week; maybe he was looking for a little more bang with this grenade).

But no – this grenade, although a source of amusement to show off, isn’t a toy. “It’s for what’s coming,” he said, while he casually referenced the hills behind town, as if a cavalry was about to come charging over it. His friends all nodded in agreement. It’s coming.

What exactly they’re preparing for, I’m not sure, as my Spanish simply wasn’t advanced enough to understand. But with grenades in hand, they’re getting ready. And this electricity hangs in the air. It’s an edgy place, and feels like the Wild West.

Empty Skyscrapers

Panama City has two elements to its skyline. One is the skyline of the business centre and financial district, with a collection of high rise buildings and tightly packed infrastructure similar to most cities.

The other part is even bigger and looks fantastic – a bit like Dubai even – with soaring pristine skyscrapers, many of them condominiums. But most of these skyscrapers are empty.

This, I learned, is because Panama is one of the money-laundering capitals of the world. “Developers” build large buildings that they “rent out” to a fictitious collection of tenants who all happen to pay in cash. This cash is deposited into the “developer’s” accounts each month, and voila: the money just became legitimate.

Buildings continue to go up at a furious pace; it looks pretty but is an eerie sight – and my head spins when I think about the sheer amount of money that must go through these places. That’s a lot of dirty money.

Am I in Dubai?

Another visually Dubai-esque trait to Panama City is one of reclaimed land. In the building of the canal and current massive expansion project, the debris being dredged out has been used to reclaim land, thus connecting some some of the islands close to Panama City to the mainland.

Take a drive along the well-manicured reclaimed causeway to Amador, and you’ll see a flurry of marinas and construction in progress, restaurants, a club, residences, hotels, and more.

Expat Life: A Double-Edged Sword

Panama welcomes expats with open arms. There are currently many concessions offered to those who want to relocate here to buy property, start businesses, and more. It’s a hub for retirees from all over the world (but mainly from the USA) who want to stretch their retirement dollars and live somewhere warm.

I’m house-sitting in one such expat community, tucked up just outside town, each house with a big wall and lockable gates. This is fairly typical of expat communities (and large houses in general, whether or not expat-owned) in developing countries. Minimal integration is also typical, and some expats even go so far as to express a general distaste for the local community. Comments like “Veracruz is an eyesore. We should tear it down entirely and build a big wall around it and build beachside condos and residences” are hard to hear. What of the local community – who has been there much longer than you? Why should you have all the answers, perched high on your hill and looking down on everybody else? Maybe it’s this sort of attitude that my local friend with the grenade refers to when he says “it’s coming”.

I experienced the same thing in 2011 when I first house-sat in Grenada; the property owner (a widely disliked expat who lives there half the year) did such a good job of scaring me against locals that I barely left the property in the first couple of months (heartbreak and dengue fever notwithstanding). She couldn’t hide her distaste of the place and the people if she wanted to, which made her self-interested drive to live there for the nice weather even more ugly.

As time passed and I got to know a more local side to Grenada, I observed a similar sentiment and line of demarkation between many expats and locals.

Now, having been in Grenada on and off for a couple of years, I can empathize – to a point. I’ve been ripped off, taken advantage of, and targeted by locals. It comes with the territory when there is an appearance of financial disparity. I may not be rich; but regardless, I’m seen as a source of money by virtue of the colour of my skin.

What I find refreshing about Panama (in comparison to Grenada) is the degree to which people don’t just expect handouts. If a kid wants some extra change, he eagerly bags my groceries and carries them to the car. When my partner and I go into a local bar, we’re not besieged by locals all asking (nay, expecting) us to buy them drinks (as in Grenada); no – in fact, in Panama, people buy us drinks! (Again, a sign that Panamanians have more disposable income than you might think).

Dear Panama: I’m Confused

This post is probably about as dis-jointed as my impressions of Panama are. It’s a land of contrast, and a tough place to get a pulse on in under two months, especially with language barriers. What is irrefutable to me is the latin american passion and zest for life, the pride, and the fact that nobody seems to be starving. Similar to Grenada, “poverty” is open to interpretation.

Panama is also an edgy place, and one that’s ready to “go off”: both in launches of development and economic booms, and also maybe in the launch of a few grenades.

Whatever it is, they’re ready.

This post Panama: A Wild West appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!