Who said the sea must
be made of water?
Life in a file.
Well, not that you can upload someone’s existence into a webpage.
Or define a person’s life as an .html. Like: Mattia Cella . html.
In fact, I apologize for the pretentious title of the page.
BUT: I do believe that what defines people the most is their past experiences.
This space is an attempt to recreate the emotions that those adventures gave me: what I did, what I saw, what I felt.
With no particular order, meaning, or date.
Hopefully, yours can somehow relate.
USA // Yosemite, LA
I embarked into this trip with Luca purposely avoiding to be exposed to any image or video showing even the tiniest bit of Yosemite National Park.
I had no idea what to expect, an ingredient which made this a special meal.
Yosemite means they are killers, by the way.
August 2024.
That time of year to explore the wilderness with the best teammate ever, my friend Luca.
The Elantrona, our trusted vehicle for all our adventures, took us to some special places once again ↓
Luca’s planning turned out to be as solid as usual. We lived through almost “unworthy” moments throughout the trip.
Can’t wait to get into those.
Nothing was around me. But somehow, I felt like the whole world was embracing me.
ITINERARY ↓
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The drive towards the magic!
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We fit a lot within 24 hours and set the stage for what would be the hike of a lifetime.
No matter how tired we were, our hearts asked up to keep going.
And we did.
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The reward was in the struggle. It was strenuous but it paid off. So much to write home about for this one.
P.S. I love this expression, "write home about."
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Wilderness in its purest state. We were fortunate.
They are not called "Secret Lakes," but some places should remain kinda unknown in this world!
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This was supposed to be the last day of the trip. It wasn't!
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My flight got canceled and I couldn't rebook for the next day.
This gave me an additional evening in LA, which we most certainly enjoyed.
Full disclosure: you’ll realize through this blog, that Luca and I lived through these moments with the fullest presence of mind. I put these into writing in an attempt to carry these feelings throughout my words.
A futile attempt, perhaps, but worth trying nonetheless.
Okay, not another word before I get into the real meat.
LET’S BEGIN 🚩
Day 1️⃣ - LA → Yosemite
Landed in LAX the previous night, got into my hotel, and worked remotely.
After work was done (around 2 PM LA time), Luca was waiting for me excitedly outside the Westin with a full tank, ready to take us towards the magic. Nice hugs and smiles, and we were off!
We got by our cabin around dinner time after lively conversations. We stopped by a happy-looking Mexican place called “El Cid.” Solid beef quesadilla!
Got some sleep after checking in with a kind gentleman at the “front desk.”
Day 2️⃣ - Sequoias → Glacier Point → Two-touch → Half Dome base
Sequoias → Glacier Point
Woke up early (as usual) and made our way to see the giant sequoias.
We witnessed the Grizzly Giant in what was an amazing moment of solitude in admiration. We spent over one hour admiring the Grizzly in complete silence, feeling unable to leave this magnificently imposing giant.
Luca mentioned that he almost felt “unworthy” of his presence which was the best adjective to describe this moment.
Oh, and we were the first to get there, of course.
We then made our way to Glacier Point to overlook at the landscape and Half Dome, which we’d hike over the next two days. Many people there, but still a great sight.
Two-touch → Half Dome base 🏕️
Unfortunately for our legs, we spotted a beach by a creek as we made our way to the start of the overnight hike towards Half Dome.
ICYDK (in case you didn’t know): Half Dome is a weirdly shaped immense rock towering over Yosemite National Park. Super iconic. See below.
We always carry a ball in the trunk and there was no question about stopping and playing for a bit ⚽️
As you can imagine:
Juggling in the sand is not the best activity before embarking on an overnight hike.
Oh well.
We began our ascent to the campground with:
Tired legs.
Heavy backpacks.
20K steps in.
Absolute excitement.
It wasn’t crazy hard, but some sections did test our knees. We also walked past beautiful and misty waterfalls and got to the campground right before sunset.
Luca mounted the tent and inflated our sleeping bags. In the interim, I made my way to a nearby creek and went to refill our water bottles. We had a water filter with us that helped us drink clean water.
We also had a portable stove, which we used to cook our food and make coffee (instant from Trader Joe’s, not bad at all).
We put our food into canisters to prevent bears from approaching our tent and campground over the night 🐻
Our alarm was set for 4:20. Why?
We wanted to be among the first to reach the Half Dome peak, so we went to sleep early.
💤 🏕️
Day 3️⃣ - Half Dome peak → Two-touch → Mammoth Lakes
Half Dome peak
The sky was whiter than it was black; so many stars took the stage and welcomed us into the night their own way.
A few breaths later, I looked the campground around and it was pitch dark.
Nobody else was awake.
And there was no way to spot any bears, which are very commonly spotted around camp grounds.
After a few steps towards the canister where we stored our food for the night, I s****ed my pants and went back to Luca.
Bro, please come with me!
Luckily, a few minutes later when we were ready to go and changed, we heard alarms from other tents and saw more and more lights turning on.
This was sooo comforting.
We felt a sense of community which filled our souls and gave us the courage to venture into the dark forest towards our destination.
On our way up we spotted a night bird (Luca would know its name) that flew right in front of us. It was absurd how its flapping was utterly silent. This allows it to hunt more effectively.
It felt like watching a movie on mute.
Anyway… fast forward and we got to the base of Half Dome by 7ish. We weren’t the first there and shared the moment with three other hikers.
The only way to reach the peak is to climb up a steep cable climb, which we were prepared for.
The "steep climb..."
This segment is considered “extreme,” and you have to be comfortable before starting its ascent. We had gloves that helped with the grip, those made a difference in reaching the peak 🧤 🧤
Step after step (or rather, handgrip after handgrip), we made it to the peak and were welcomed by a special vista.
Once up there, we enjoyed 15 minutes of solitude. We both called our families and shared the moment with them. It was too special not to.
Luca and I agreed that it is inside of us, the need to share memorable moments with people in our life.
It is a need we were both able to show and express
After some time and enjoying the view from every angle, we made our way down, got to our tent by 10:30ish, dismounted it…
…and began our descent.
This time we walked down another path, which was a bit busy but still offered spectacular sights.
Once done, we went to the grill, had three sandwiches each, coffee, and headed to the river to play two-touch.
Again.
Two-touch
I had to dedicate a second sub-chapter to this game. I’m aware I already discussed it, but the definition comes after in this instance.
Two-touch is a juggling game where two players pass each other’s the ball in the air.
Players are only allowed two touches before returning the ball to the other player. The ball cannot be touched with the head or thigh, which makes the game challenging and more fun.
Eventually, we ended up just playing with no rules. This allowed for more creativity with the ball. We played in the same spot as yesterday, with the Half Dome towering over us.
This time, it was different to look at it after our ascent. Yesterday, it did feel a bit scary.
But we conquered it!
Half Dome and its imposing (and daunting) presence.
Mammoth Lakes
After a solid hour of playing two-touch and jumping in the creek, we got in our car and made our way to Mamooth Lakes (Ventura Inn).
We had a pizza (which was okay) in a popular spot downtown.
This time, we concedes ourselves one bed each and felt so lucky for this reason.
Thank god we were smart enough to account for this. We accumulated not more than 9 hours of sleep across two nights and almost 40K steps each day.
We needed some rest 😅
Tomorrow’s adventures await.
Day 4️⃣ - Secret Lakes → Mono Lake → Aspendell
Secret Lakes
For today, we planned an easy hike. Expectations were low.
Little did we know, this hike turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip.
(note: Secret Lakes is not the name of this location, but some places need to remain barely known; however, you can drop me a line here if you reaaally want to know where this is 😎).
We climbed up a short and steep path and were welcomed by complete wilderness in its pure state. A raw expanse of green and yellow embraced us and showed us its rare beauties in a moment that felt primal.
Whenever I find myself experiencing such glimpses of time in nature (and I can barely count them), I end up feeling like an intruder. As in, I do not deserve to be a part of them.
However, this time it felt different. I felt welcomed, just like Luca, and we took it all in.
It was early and we were the first, alone. Marmots, squirrels of any kind, hawks and falcons, pikas, and coyotes allowed us to witness and participate in their early morning habits, an invitation we accepted with respect and dignity.
For a few moments, we forgot the world outside this landscape.
We felt fortunate.
As we made our way to a second lake, we climbed up a path accompanied by hawks and falcons flying above our heads.
And we were just there, walking with a camera, binoculars, and the sunshine warming our souls.
The second lake’s water (like any creek or other lake in this trip) was barely transparent.
A spectrum of infinite variations of azure, green, and yellow demanded to be admired. It had all the right to do so.
We took a nap by the lake, a few more glances before saying goodbye, and back to the car barely aware of what we just experienced.
Mono Lake → Aspendell
Time to eat. We went to a famous deli, bought a lot of food and we sat next to a happy and numerous Italian family.
We stopped at June Lake but it was too windy to dive, so we ended up staying just a little before making our way to Mono Lake.
“Mono Lake is a weird place bro,” Luca kept telling me.
When I got there I realized what he meant.
Mono Lake is a huge basin made of entirely salty water. Its most distinct feature is tufas, composites of calcium that emerge out of the lake’s bottom.
Basically (get ready for a PHD-level explanation):
Fresh water flows below Mono Lake;
As it keeps flowing, it finds ways to break through;
At direct contact with Mono Lake’s salty water, the calcium creates weird-looking columns;
These emerge above and up towering over the lake (some are even over 9 feet);
They are so cool, these tufas.
They also offer nest space for ospreys. Weird how these birds nest on top of these tufas as there is no fish to be found in Mono Lake at all.
We walked around it and made our way to the Elantrona.
Okay, time to drive to Mammoth, grab a bite at Danny’s, and make our way up to Aspendell.
When we got there, the lodge was hosting what looked like a super fun wedding.
Luckily, they shut down the music at 10 PM. That allowed us to sleep tight.
Boy did we need it!
Our cabin. Pretty cool!
Day 5️⃣ - Chocolate Lakes → Soccer → HolySmoke BBQ → LA
Chocolate Lakes
As with all the other hikes we did, this one took up more than expected.
We walked by majestic lakes at over 3400 meters high (11K feet).
There were pristine meadows all around them and the sun was not up yet. On one occasion, we stopped and waited for its rays to warm our souls as we were lying down on the most tender, greenest grass.
That, too, was a moment of eternity.
Funny how this “eternity” thing is supposed to be the longest period to ever be conceived, but it is often found in the smallest, most furtive moments.
All lakes were beautiful and each one had its X-factor. And of course, even here we were among the first.
Solitude is a requirement for us; it enhances the overall experience, it makes you feel a part of it.
We were so lucky to see a pika from up close. So cute.
P.S. Pikas are rodents that live at high altitude. They are beloved by everyone as their features are super cute. Hawks love them too, unfortunately.
Soccer → HolySmoke BBQ → LA
As we did in 2023, we made our way to a soccer field in Bishop to kick the ball around before hitting our favorite meat spot.
We were a bit tired to play so that didn’t last long, it was also very very hot.
But the meat, unsurprisingly, was on another level. Please allow your mouth to water while looking down ↓
As much as we enjoyed this meal, it was also a sad one as that marked the end of our trip.
Little did we know…
…another magic moment was waiting for us the next day.
Day 6️⃣ - Manhattan Beach, LA (BONUS!)
Manhattan Beach, LA (BONUS!)
As we were driving back to LA, my flight back to JFK scheduled for Sunday at 9 PM kept getting delayed:
Delay 1: 9:21 PM
Delay 2: 9:48 PM
Delay 3: 10:21 PM
Delay 4: 11:48 PM
Delay 5: 12:21 AM
Delay 6: 1:48 AM
Canceled.
Between delays 5 and 6, Luca had swiped me in a gym where he has a membership. This allowed me to work out, shower, shave, and kill some time.
However, the second I got out of the shower, I was notified the flight was canceled.
I could not rebook it for the same night or even the next day, so I ended up booking one for two days later (writing these lines from this flight).
And that, of course, gave Luca and me a chance to meet up again.
We decided to spend the night at Manhattan Beach during sunset.
Yes, we played two-touch… not that you should be surprised by now! 🤣
With the sea breeze and warm water on our feet, we played for a good hour and a half until it was too dark to see.
It was special and most of all, liberating.
We ended the night with sushi and a last hug.
This time, for real.
Ciao, and thank you for reading.
That concludes the trip.
We didn’t waste a single second, even when we were wasting time.
Onto the next one, fratello!
Japan // Tokyo → Hiroshima → Osaka → Kyoto → Fuji
Within a week of leaving Japan, I was already missing it.
The way people interact is unlike anywhere else I’ve been before.
And that’s one of the aspects I value the most when I travel.
Seeing and living things that are different from where I am from.
I want a new POV, a new way of thinking about life.
And I absolutely got it.
TOKYO:
You’ve probably heard at least one of these five things:
People are kind.
Trains are fast.
The city is clean.
Sushi is on another level.
People don’t like to stand out.
I can confirm it’s true, and it all happens in a very harmonious way.
__
However, you do get the feeling that it would be very tough to conform if you were to move there. For some reason.
People leave bikes untied anywhere they go. And the city counts what… 12M people?
Imagine that in NYC. You’re more likely to see single bike tires barely locked to street lamps than whole, proper bicycles.
__
Chiara and I had the most amazing Sushi at the Fish Market and stayed in Shinjuku.
We did a lot of things, including visiting parks, Uniqlo (of course), ramen, sushi, markets, mini markets, sushi, cat cafes, the SkyTree, the Tokyo Tower, shopping in Shibuya, Shibuya crossing, temples, sushi, bookstores…
Another mind blowing thing to see was the design of anything, anywhere you go.
The attention to detail.
The use of light and space.
A few pictures (I even got to play some soccer)
HIROSHIMA:
We took the Shinkansen! 🚄
And of course, got our Bento box before boarding.
It was a fast and silent ride considering the amount of space we covered (see map above).
A bus takes you around the city once you get there. There are about 10 stops, which are all tourist attractions, including, of course, the museum.
Which was… well, immersive to say the least.
Trying hard to explain what it must have felt like.
OSAKA:
A half-day stop on our way to Kyoto. 🚄
Chiara and I researched some cool coffee places and found some great ones.
The city is known for shopping and nightlife.
People look more relaxed than in Tokyo here.
It looks like things are not as… standard here. It’s more human.
The streets were so cool too.
KYOTO:
Despite Kyoto being an anagram of Tokyo…
(this caused confusion, including almost buying the wrong train tickets…)
the two are completely different cities.
Kyoto is more historically and culturally rich than Tokyo, at least from the eyes of an almost clueless tourist like me. Chiara, on the other hand, studied Lonely Planet’s Japan Travel Guide before coming; which made things a bit more interesting for her.
Anyway, Kyoto.
One of the main attractions is Fushimi Inari Shrine, a temple located just outside of Kyoto that features thousands of gates ⛩️ around it.
You have to climb up quite a bit, but the walk is magic and the path is nested in the middle of a wonderful forest. 🌳
But of course, there are a lot of other things to do in Kyoto.
We went to the Bamboo Forest (discovered a beautiful river stretching around it), visited other temples, walked around the city center, and had some more sushi.
(have I mentioned “sushi” already?)
We then found one of the most beautiful coffee shops.
Isolated and hidden from all the main streets.
(That was another thing in Japan. There are no neighborhoods left untouched or abandoned. Things are well kept and are given high consideration, regardless of how far away you are from the center).
The owner was super kind and looked almost worried at all the compliments Chiara and I gave him. We took a lot of pictures and gave him an instant 5-star review.
I read somewhere online that one of the best things to do is to attend the Tea Ceremony.
We went inside a typical old Japanese house, wore a Kimono (that took longer than expected), and a guide gave us a tour.
This turned out to be the funniest experience of the trip.
Chiara and I couldn’t stop laughing for some reason, even though it wasn’t really the best circumstance to do so. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how painful that was.
FUJI:
Fuji was magic.
It didn’t look real at first.
The train ride transports you in the middle of the greenest of forests, and suddenly this huge mountain fills up the entire train’s window… out of the blue.
There is a small town underneath it full of locals minding their business.
I got there at around 8 AM (6:20 from Tokyo, Shinjuku station) - not many tourists then.
(Chiara couldn’t join me for this one as she was on her way to Seoul)
But just look at this!
Indonesia // Solo-Traveling
Have you ever been chased by the police?
Maybe some of you have…. although I certainly hope not.
But who, in here, WAS THE ONE CHASING THE POLICE?!
[dribbling through traffic, and as a first time motorbike rider?]
You guessed it.
Me and a turtle. It looks like they fly, rather than swim. Right? It’s so soothing.
Uluwuatu 🏄♂️ -> Komodo National Park 🐉 -> Ubud 🌴 -> Nusa Penida 🏖️ -> Ubud 🌴
I could attempt to describe the amazing places that Indonesia has to offer.
But we’re so lucky to be able to touch a button, and capture with great detail what stands in front of our eyes.
So I’ll start with a few of those, but not too many.
You’ve probably seen some of these online somewhere before, so feel free to skip ahead…
BUT: don’t miss the policeman story below.
Hard to spice it up with pictures, really, but (try to) get to the bottom of it! 👮♂️
Actually wait, 7.64 more seconds. Look at this magic moment where a giant black & white puffy fish bumps into a turtle.
🐢+ 🐡
Or at this DUGONG swimming on top of a turtle?
👮♂️🚨 Okay, police story. I hope you enjoy (more than I did)! 🚨⬇️
The intro to this blog post is accurate, yes.
I did chase a police man. 🛵
Let’s start with a premise: It was my first day in Ubud.
And my third EVER riding a scooter. (Yes, I did some test drives, and yes, I did feel confident riding it).
It was actually easier than I thought, and my two-decade-long biking experiences definitely helped.
But back to us:
I was heading toward the Monkey Forest Sanctuary with my motorbike.
[FUN FACT: I overheard a guide saying that monkeys are TRAINED to steal from people. Indonesians then steal from monkeys. And sure enough…. A girl was screaming because a monkey stole her phone, and someone had her sunglasses stolen too…]
I input the address on Google Maps, stick my phone inside the phone holder, and depart.
4 MIN away. ⏰
Easy, I say to myself. What can possibly happen in four minutes?
Boy was I wrong…
Ubud on a non-trafficky day.
As I ride, I keep glancing to my phone and see the classic Google Maps white arrow marching towards a blue path. All good.
The street is busy, chaotic, narrow.
After a few seconds, I realize something:
I am the only one riding the opposite way.
But since the two-lane road was so narrow, I thought that maybe it was just a very busy segment.
My concerns keep rising the more meters I drive…
After 20 meters, [and I swear, right before I was deciding to turn around] a cop approaches me.
He does not look happy.
“What you doing? You stupid?! Come with me “
[You might be thinking to yourself: “Mattia c’mon you were the ONLY ONE riding in the wrong way!” And to that I reply that yes, you are correct. I had absolutely no reason to complain with the police. I simply apologized in fact.]
[I wish I had more pictures to include, but as you can imagine that wasn’t my priority in such a situation. I then appeal to your imagination, my patient reader, and ask that you fill this story images from your grey matter 🧠]
Yes he gives me a ticket, but this is NOT the end of the story.
Not even close, as a matter of fact.
I dismount my motorbike, show its papers and my license.
Everything okay. I even have the IDP (International Driving Permit) I purchased after reading a few blog posts about Indonesian police.
In Italy, when you are given a ticket, the paper shows a payable amount, with instructions on how to pay it.
But in Bali? Forget about it.
The policeman tells me to follow him.
That’s weird. Why would I follow a policeman?
He takes me to a less crowded place, has me fill up a form (with Passport information), and takes my scooter papers.
After that, he leaves (⁉️) and hands me a sheet of paper:
1️⃣ Is it in English? Nope.
2️⃣ Do people around me speak even just a few words in English? Nope.
3️⃣ Does T-Mobile fast data work in Indonesia? Nope.
4️⃣ Does it say how to pay the ticket? Nope.
5️⃣ Is the cop’s calligraphy objectively understandable? You guessed it.
Now, imagine me:
A cop collects my passport information, hands me an Indonesian ticket, and leaves.
I look at it, still with my helmet on, surrounded by non-English people, in the middle of the main road in Ubud.
Chickens running around, cows invading streets, roosters screaming, monkeys climbing up electricity cables.
And scooters, so many scooters dribbling through the traffic.
🐔 + 🐮 + 🔊 + 🚘 + 🛵 + 🐓 + 🐒
Noah and its ark would have been jealous of the ZOO that was displaying in front of my eyes.
Thank God, for once in my life I thought about being prudent.
When the cop was writing down the ticket, I asked for his Whatsapp number.
So I obviously call him the second I realize I have absolutely no idea what to do.
He sends me his location and I reach him with my scooter.
I get there, and he says:
“Follow me. I Fast.”
“Okay.”
Fast?!
This guy turns into Valentino f***** Rossi.
I honk for a solid 10 minutes to try to slow him down, but he does not hear me.
I must have took 3 correct turns, because after a few minutes that he disappeared, I find him on the right of the street.
I even took a video. I start to think that I should document this, the situation started to look too weird.
Here is where we were: I took the end of it not entirely show his face, but you can see that we were pretty hidden and traffic sounds far away:
“What do I do with this? How do I pay?”
“July 7th. Department of Justice. Bye!”
He tries to flee the scene again, but this time I grab him. Stiffly.
“What [the absolute F**K] do you mean July 7th?! I leave the country in 5 days.”
“July 7th only. Not my problem.”
And he leaves.
Again.
NOW I’m worried.
You guessed it:
I call him again, he sends me his location, I drive there.
At this point I’ve seen the entirety of Ubud just by following this guy.
I see him, he takes me to another hidden location, (of course) and tells me, out of compassion maybe:
“I help you speed up.”
“Okay, thank you!!”
After some checks, we’re back to the start. July 7th in-person.
He leaves, I call him, he sends me his location, I drive there, (this is not a typo. I am not lying to you) and he takes me to another hidden place.
I’m now: scared + worried + SKEPTIC! Of course one starts to get skeptic.
Is this guy even a cop? Why would he talk to me only if hiding? Is he trying to scam tourists?
So I ask him something, that turns out to be a BAD mistake:
“Can I see your cop ID? I don’t understand why we keep hiding to talk. I just want to know how to pay this ticket.”
“You no think I’m cop?!?”
He takes it personal. He loses his patience.
“You no trust me? I no help you speed up.”
“NONONONONONO please! Sorry! I’m sorry Made (that’s his name, pronounced “Made” which means second born in Indonesian).”
It takes 20 minutes for me to calm him down, and have him talk to me in a human manner again.
He finally attempts to give me instructions on how to pay this before July 7th, but I cannot understand what he’s saying. I must have told me the following line about 100 times:
“Put this in paper.”
I have no idea what he means.
The 100th time he repeats this (and he was losing his patience again), I hand him my phone with Google Translate open: Indonesian -> English.
Proud of having done a smart thing, I look at him hopeful and convinced of myself.
If asking him to show me his ID was a bad mistake, this was a FATAL one.
His reaction?
1️⃣ He takes my phone.
2️⃣ Looks down at it.
3️⃣ Glances at me with disbelief.
4️⃣ Sarcastically laughs.
5️⃣ “Goodbye, Mattia.”
He must have felt like I insulted his English, but there is absolutely NO WAY to get him back to my good side. No way.
Made (that was his name, Made) as my only way to not having to go back to Indonesia on July 6th just to pay a ticket, and fly back the next day.
With my scooter papers with him (which are due back to the rental agency in a couple of days), and with a hold in the system on my passport number.
And he was gone. For good this time.
Deep breaths, Mattia.
I decide to head to the general police station in Ubud.
I show them the ticket he gave me, and tell them that I was told to pay it on July 7th in person ONLY.
To my absolute relief, they look at me like I’m mad.
They’ve never heard of such a thing!
“Go to bank, get cash, give teller receipt, pay.”
“ARE YOU F****** KIDDING ME?”
Of course, I did not say that, but boy did that scream in my mind.
The bank is right across the street. 🏦
ATM -> withdraw 500K IRP (about 35 USD) -> bank.
Wait. Not over yet.
The teller inputs the receipt ID, but nothing comes up.
Made’s handwriting was so bad that we could not decipher the digits.
So I call him. No reply.
Again, no reply.
Back to police station, I have THEM call HIM.
He picks up instantly. ☎️
After a few minutes, the policeman receives a screenshot with the ticket ID.
— It was missing a digit —
I’m finally able to pay it.
Here we are again:
I call him, he sends me his location, I drive there, and NO, he does not take me to a hidden place this time.
I hand him the receipt, and he gives me back the scooter paper.
No more passport hold. Mattia is free to go. Fiu.
P.S. I don’t like having unresolved matters. So the day I left, I sent him this:
Puerto Rico // Gio & Bill
A quick trip with a friend, guests of Bill, an awesome host.
Puerto Rico is americanized, but deeply grounded in its cultural roots as well.
And not to mention the beaches, city center, and surrounding nature.
THE FOOD!
Me and Giorgio were trying the new iPhone Action Mode feature that acts as a stabilizer. Pretty impressive!
Just kidding: I saw a “New York Bagels” sign and my mind shut off.
Surprisingly, nothing weird happened to me in Puerto Rico.
It has been a few days where I relaxed, played tennis with ocean breeze, and was guest of a wonderful Host, Bill:
Giorgio, guy on the right, invited me to go with him: Bill is a lifetime friend of his.
Here are a few beautiful moments in a beautiful island (with some of the biggest avocados I’ve ever seen):
Brazil // São Paulo → Ilha Grande → Rio
Brazilians and their energy transport you into their country.
Had a few unforgettable, overwhelming adventures (scary and fun), that I can’t wait to write about here…
… as soon as I get a break. Or “eu faço uma pausa,” in Portuguese.
A smiling couple, Chiara & Mattia, after a challenging early morning hike overlooking Ipanema and Copacabana in Rio de Janeiro.
We went through the favelas (and all the AK47s we saw along the way).
But more about this later.
Brazil is the most overwhelming place I’ve visited.
In my experience, you can’t leave Brazil without a little bit of it under your skin.
Everything about it is just contagious.
Sao Paulo 🏙️ -> Ilha Grande 🏖️ -> Rio de Janeiro ⚽️
Ian, my great friend from NJ, gave us the best tour of Sao Paulo. Even though my name is Mattia Cella, he calls me Celliñho, he cracks me up every time.
He introduced us to his family, friends, and Mona (the happiest dog in Brazil).
This is us enjoying a typical (and yummy) Brazilian lunch.
Just like the Indonesia-Solo Traveling blog post, here are some of the best moments of our trip:
[after this, I’ll tell you about how Chiara & I saw our lives waving goodbye at us]
Okay. Now after the BEAUTIFUL, let’s go into the SCARY… 😧
During our stay in Rio, Chiara and I wanted to go for a hike.
We heard Rio is not only famous for:
Beaches
Views
Food
Vibes
Party
Favelas
But also for wonderful nature.
One of the most famous hikes is called the “Morro Dois Irmaos.”
It means “The Two Brothers,” and one can definitely see how.
You can see it below:
This is to show you that:
1️⃣: I am a great designer
2️⃣: We had to go through Vidigal (one of the biggest Favelas in Rio), to get to the start of the hike.
A few important points:
We wanted to have the real experience, so we decided to go alone.
We did not want to pay $60 and go with a TripAdvisor guide: the hike simply followed one path, so there was no need to be directed. *
We’d have to arrange our own transportation. **
We wanted to beat the crowds. We started walking up around 7:30/8 AM.
* Take a look at the chart below.
** A video of how we got there is coming up in the story.
Regret of booking on Tripadvisor VS. going alone:
We took a Uber to the start of the hike, to find out that the car did not take us to where the hike started.
It took us to the beginning of a Favela only.
From there, we’d have to find a taxi and climb up the steep road to the ACTUAL start of the hike.
AH.
That’s why the TripAdvisor tours all had their own vehicles.
But that’s okay.
We have cash, and there are moto-taxis.
We end up taking one each. 🛵
This was a fun moment.
Okay, we’re at the start of the hike now.
Chiara & Mattia Cella (Celliñho) are about to start.
The hike is steep & monkey-packed, but we see some amazing views:
But once we get to the top…
Boy, what a view!
Here is what we saw.
[crazy to think that just one hour ago we were down in Ipanema Beach]
Chiara & I, drenched but happy.
now the fun begins
🔫
now the fun begins 🔫
[you’ll realize why the water pistol emoji soon]
We enjoy the view and the breeze up top for a good hour.
Time to descend.
Hikes are usually more challenging as you go up, but not as dangerous as you go down.
Things get slippery, and just one bad step can lead to bad surprises.
That’s why Chiara decided to play it safe!
Our efforts to beat the crowd (and the organized tour) worked.
We were alone for the entire hike.
We only bumped into some people that were rock climbing. 🧗♂️ 🧗♀️
As we descend, we talk about:
How beautiful the hike was
How amazing it’s going to feel to dive into the ocean soon
What to have for lunch…
But as we descend, someone pops up in front of our eyes.
What follows is a two-sided scenario AFTER we see them:
☝️ - This is where we’re going:
✌️ - This is where we now think we’re going:
Mattia Cella: “Baby, don’t look up. Just keep walking.”
Of course, Chiara looks up.
In front of our 👀 👀 :
5 kids. Holding AK47s and M4s, surrounding the ONLY path we must walk towards.
Their guns are bigger than them. No joke.
__________
We were in the middle of NO ONE. The closest person was miles away.
If something went wrong, nobody would have known about it.
___________
What do we do?
Well, actually there aren’t many choices here.
We either climb pack up, or pretend everything is okay, walking right in between them.
We go for the second option.
We didn’t know what to do as we were approaching them:
Do we make eye contact?
Do we smile?
Do we pretend everything is normal?
Do we accelerate?
Or, do we slow down not to show we’re scared?
Well, turns out we don’t do any of these (to a certain extent).
I’m just gonna write it:
I fist-bumped them.
🤜🤛
Smiling. Acting like I was not scared. Asking if they were having a nice time.
Did it work?
YES!
Was it the smartest thing to do?
I don’t know. But what I know, is that we got out of there alive.
Of course, the second we turned the corner, we sprinted like there was no tomorrow.
We got to the start of the hike.
And.
We didn’t think we were ever going to say this, but we were SO GLAD to find ourselves in the middle of a Favela.
Costa Rica // Pura Vida
Jungles, beaches, animals, heavy rain, burning sun…
“Rica” means “rich” in English, and Chiara & I could definitely see how.
P.S. Pura Vida!
🚗 San Jose 🏙️ -> Arenal 🌋 -> Monteverde ⛰️ -> Manuel Antonio 🏝️ -> Tamarindo 🌆 🚗
Mattia: Let’s go for a hike in Costa Rica
Chiara: Hike?! Like an easy one though, right?
Mattia: Do you think I want to turn a holiday into an Ironman? Don’t worry, it will be easy.
Chiara: If YOU say so…
Aaaaand of course. Chiara in the middle of the hike. Boy was she happy…
P.S. Mattia Cella is still alive, currently writing this piece.
A typical conversation in Costa Rica. Ready?
Pura Vida?
Pura Vida!
Wait but… Pura Vida?
Pura Vida Hermano.
Okay. Pura Vida!
Pura Vida to you too.
This idiom is used for literally everything.
As a greeting, as a goodbye, asking how one’s doing or feeling.
And the answer is always the same.
We loved Costa Rica ❤️
And in a way, we also felt like the country loved us back.
Well, it also started in a great way.
We had 5 seats in the plane for us two only.
This is what we made of it (don’t watch if you are easily offended):
It’s fair to say we landed in the country very well-rested.
But we could have slept for hours.
Costa Rica had A LOT of beauty in store for us that we weren’t always ready to accept.
One of the things that amazed me the most was the rainforest.
The amount of colors, plants, animals, and things we saw in the jungle was truly unbelievable.
Not to mention the beaches!
And the surf.
🏄♀️ 🏄♂️
We surfed together for the first time.
This guy (I forgot the name) pretended to be a surf instructor.
We totally believed him, paid him, and tried to surf.
He looked professional at first, but then he turned out to be…
Well… not what we expected.
Chiara actually rode a wave when someone else was next to her, and got hit by a surfboard.
She was okay eventually, but we got so mad at that guy for not preventing that to happen.
You don’t let your “student” surf a busy wave…
But anyway.
This is BEFORE the “““““““ lesson “““““““.
[you can tell that because we’re smiling]
But I guess nature decided to award our bravery.
To trust that guy.
And to surf busy waves.
How?
With the best sunset we’ve ever seen. Enjoying a beer of course! beer
Tamarindo 📍
We even saw beautiful beaches.
Huge.
Flat.
Water was so low (30cm) for hundreds and hundreds of meters.
I even went seashell hunting.
Why? Because Mattia Cella can’t stand under the sun doing anything for more than 26 minutes (timed). ⏰
Look in the back. The beach was sooo big.
And its water was unbelievable. 👇
There would be so much more to say about this trip.
Chiara went to the hospital (nothing serious, but still) 🏥
We ended up in a private party in the outskirts of Tamarindo 🎊
We saw a family of 🦥 🦥
We saw many 🦜
We hiked Arenal 🌋
Took a boat trip of a guy that was in prison for many years. We still don’t know what he did. He cooked fish for us on a secluded beach. ⛓️
Well.
That should do it, until next time! 👋
Wait, actually.
Let me close with a video of a scared Chiara being so brave:
Zip-lining in the middle of the rainforest!
USA // Mars Is on Earth
The title (almost) says it all.
This has been one of the most incredible trips I’ve ever taken.
Both outwardly and inwardly.
Thanksgiving 2021.
I have never been that good at math, but here is an elementary addition:
A few free days are approaching +
My friend is free +
Classes are online +
D1’s soccer college season is over +
Flights’ prices are okay =
——————————————————
Time to discover new places.
A quick map. Photoshop skills will always help you 😂
We planned our trip with the accuracy of an astronomer.
If we were to fly above the Mid-West and could point a finger at where we wanted to stay, chances are we’d have picked Hurricane, Utah.
Our Airbnb was strategically located in the middle of all the parks we wanted to see:
Valley of Fire (Nevada)
Horseshoe Bend (Arizona)
Bryce Canyon (Utah)
Grand Canyon North Rim (Arizona)
Zion (Utah)
A lot of driving, yeah. But the best part?
The drive was as emotional and entertaining as the actual destinations.
Nothing was around me. But somehow, I felt like the whole world was embracing me.
The “dead” moments were perfectly mixed with the “alive” ones. I can’t put it into words yet, but hopefully, it will come as I keep writing.
All I know is that those feelings will always stay with me.
And in a way it s**ks, because any other hike or nature-based trip I will embark on, will never be as good.
Guaranteed.
BUT LET’S BEGIN 🚩
Day 1️⃣ - Valley of Fire (Nevada)
We got to Las Vegas with an unpleasant surprise:
“Hello my name is Mattia Cella and I just landed in Las Vegas. Can you please tell me how to reach the car I booked? I have a reservation.”
”Sure, what’s your reservation number?”
…
“Mr. Cella? Are you on the line?”
”Yes.”
”Okay so… it turns out your reservation is for Los Angeles airport. Not Las Vegas.”
”There must be a mistake, please check again.” (I was chuckling, too. There’s no way I booked for the wrong airport).
…
“So yeah, I can confirm. Your reservation with us is for Los Angeles.”
Beep, beep, beep.
Panicking.
Not the best way to start a trip, right? 😅
Luckily, the reservation was free to cancel, and we found another car right away for a cheaper price.
Nah, just kidding.
As we drove out of The Las Vegas urban areas, we were getting more and more lost. There was a sharp distinction between the city and the surrounding desert.
Usually, as you move away from a big city, the transition between streets and nature happens gradually. This time it was a sharp turn.
Something we both loved.
As we ventured inside the park - greeted by a bighorn sheep 🐏 - we found ourselves in an ecosystem of reddish, randomly shaped rocks that caught us right away.
We were as happy as two kids, literally.
As we kept driving inside the martian landscape, we decided to stop, park, and go explore.
One of the best decisions of the trip.
We soon found ourselves in a desert made of huge bicolored rocks. Look at this:
This was a 20-minute walk from our car.
We decided to follow a tight path made of the finest, whitest sand I ever touched.
It was in between huge rocks, and as we kept chatting, I told Luca:
“Bro, shhhh.”
“…”
It was the loudest silence I ever experienced.
I decided to take a video where I throw a small rock on the ground.
If you have headphones, please wear them, and listen to the silence. It was UNREAL. 🎧
We spent hours in that paradise. Just sitting there. Feeling what we were witnessing.
Yes, feeling what we were witnessing. I could not put it into better words.
After some time we decided to drive to our Airbnb where we had to check-in.
As we did so, the sun was setting… 🌅
We were playing loud music as we cruised Mars. ☄️
Screaming to the lyrics.
Windows down, hands out, chills, and even some tears.
The road was elegantly separating these massive rocks made of the weirdest shades of red, beige, grey, orange, and yellow. And we were driving right through them.
Time to go home, get some rest, and prepare for Horseshoe Bend.
Day 2️⃣ - Horseshoe Bend (Arizona)
Mexico // Las Pozas Azules
Nobody wanted to tell us.
We asked in Taxco for a place to go visit before going back to Mexico City. Locals were hesitating to reveal it to us.
Until finally, after looking around herself as if she was checking that no one could hear, she whispered:
“Tiene que… tienes que ver Las Pozas Azules.”
I felt like the FBI just revealed inside information to me.
What a better way to start this mini-trip?
By the way.
This post is closely related to the Taxco one, because we visited it right after we left that spectacular little town.
I could have put them both into one, but their unicity (and the worrying amount of available media I had 😂) deserved two dedicated blogs.
How could such a wonder have formed naturally?
And with a depth of 11 meters? (36 feet, for my beloved American readers).
But let’s start from the beginning.
When we were in Taxco, we asked some locals what to do with only one afternoon available. Almost all of them directed us to Las Pozas Azules.
They said it was so worth it, that we decided to go without even looking it up. (sometimes it ruins the surprise, I swear).
We left. And the moment we got there, the same exact thing that happened in Taxco, occurred again.
“Estacionamiento?”
”Si!”
This woman (around 65 years old) started sprinting with broken flip-flops towards the parking spot. But this time, we stopped her. We had to.
Look:
She couldn’t believe we allowed her in our car. She kept thanking us, and every time I turned to look at her to engage in conversation, she was smiling and moving as little as possible.
I wonder if I and Andreas have been the first to offer a ride to her.
But anyways, there she is:
We drove for as little as 5 minutes, and we were going through a town made up of five houses tops. We could hear children laughing, chickens clucking, and far away voices enjoying.
They were definitely coming from the Pozas.
These people really had close to nothing. They must be relying on tourists like us, I was thinking. But nonetheless, the sensation of serenity that pervaded the town was just palpable.
Look at this family, as free as the wind. (That’s our car, a Ford Figo)
After parking, we started walking toward our destination.
Pozas 1/2
Las Pozas Azules is a congregation of little falls and natural swimming pools that climb up a beautiful path. There are four of them, and they kept getting better as we made our way from the first to the last.
Here we were right after the second, and I had to stop to take a video.
Pozas 3/4
Our excitement started to grow as we kept walking up.
I’ve never seen Andreas that excited since the beginning of our trip.
You know that feeling when you are so excited that you need to get it out of your body?* Well, when that happens, screaming is a good outlet. Or running. Which is what I started to do!
*It happens to me when I am about to meet my girlfriend after months we don’t see each other.
Sorry, little parenthesis. Back to us.
Something interesting (and unexpected, honestly) is that as we were making our way up, we encountered a few locals but no tourists at all.
We then discovered that this place was kept quite hidden because they wanted to preserve its natural, untouched, sincere beauty.
These are some of the views we went through as we were about to reach Poza number 4.
The more we walked, the nearer a distant waterfall sound seemed to us.
We knew something great was coming.
Suddenly, as we emerged from behind a rock, THIS opened up in front of our eyes.
People dove and swam inside Pozas, and despite we had no towel or swimming suit, we did not think twice.
It was 11 meters (36 feet) deep! 😅
We obviously dove, and the water was so warm, too.
The color was incredible. Locals were telling me that it’s due to the mineral rocks that host the water. It seemed like someone poured colorant into it.
We creatively (let’s just say that) managed to stay dry as we descended toward our Ford Figo.
A long ride home was waiting for us.
When we got to it, locals were cutting wood. I asked why, and they replied with a tone that made me sound like I was stupid:
“Para que podamos cocinar tortillas"!"
Of course, tortillas. Of course 🤦🏼♂️
Before heading back, we recharged our Pass that allowed to even get there in the first place.
If you don’t know what happened, take a look at this post. It’s a pretty funny story. 😂
This is us with the Pass. The Pass. I capitalized it for a reason. The most important component of our trip. I still have it with me.
The way back was filled with music, an incredible sunset, and I and Andreas getting lost in talking.
At that moment, I felt like I did not want to have any control over what was happening to me.
I had no idea why I picked Mexico for that trip, why that day, why Taxco and Las Pozas Azules.
Why me?
But I didn’t care because it felt so right.
It’s like I knew that that’s where I was supposed to be, and I let that night carry me anywhere it wanted.
Mexico // Taxco de Alarcón
Who knew that such places even existed?
That was the feeling I had during my 2022 Spring Break adventure in Mexico.
Here in particular, I’ll tell you about my visit to Taxco de Alarcón.
Probably not the number one place that comes in your mind after reading Mexico and Spring Break in the same line, but trust me:
Give it a look.
Spring Break 2022. Mexico.
Cancun? Not really.
Instead, Taxco! (Well, not just that).
I and my friend Andreas were embarking on our Spring Break adventure with a focus on the second biggest city in America - Ciudad de Mexico - that now counts over 21,000,000 people.
Just to put things into comparison, that’s 1/3 of Italy’s inhabitants, concentrated into a beautiful mixture of squares, hills, gigantic parks, colossal streets, and a sea of colonias populares.
Colonias Populares on our way to Taxco.
After a couple of days of strolling around Mexico’s capital, our time dedicated to Taxco was approaching, and we were as excited as kids.
I came across the beautiful town from a quick research a few days before flying, and it caught my eye right away. I saw a colorful but remote, vibrant but small, culturally rich but also very poor, little town that dominates the hills of central Mexico. I labeled it as a must-see.
So, 6 AM. Backpacks alarmingly overpacked. Ready to go.
To begin with, the 2.5 hours of car ride was an adventure alone.
The fastest way to get to Taxco involved a good hour on the highway. Google Maps (which by the way, does NOT work well when you are outside the United States, or at least in Mexico), gave us a few alternatives. The fastest was about 2.5 hours, and the longest was closer to 4.
The latter looked like a contorted snake in the GPS. Countless turns, hills, and it definitely involved areas without phone connections.
Not exactly the kind of road we wanted to take.
Needless to say, we picked the fastest one, and got on the highway illegally at first - we had to hand a toll worker a few bucks to let us in.
Speechless and (kinda) worried, we did not put give much attention to that.
A glimpse of what’s coming 😬
As we drove, we were getting closer to another toll. We had that gut feeling, deep inside, there some kind of issue was coming our way, but still, we approached it confidently.
As we got closer, a huge red cross appeared on a screen.
A Mexican police officer came close, knocked on the window and:
”Pass required!”
Me and Andreas looked at each others: “Pass?!”
He did not look friendly. If we were there without a pass, that meant that we somehow got in the highway illegally.
We decided to exit at the first right.
The problem, however, was that Google Maps was not working very well. And in the next recalculated route, we found ourselves in the same exact highway. The only difference was that we were trying to get in from a new entrance.
Same story: toll approaching.
Red Cross. ❌
“Pass Required"!
At this point, we were almost losing our hopes and were deciding against visiting Taxco.
BUT.
As we exited the highway, a woman approached us holding something in her hand. She was illegally selling the Pass required to get into the highway.
Our only ticket to Taxco.
We were absolutely ready to pay any price for it, and when she said 500 pesos (about $25), we did not hesitate to say YES! Highway again.
Same story: toll approaching.
Green Check. ✅
“GO!”
I and Andreas exchanged joyful looks at each other: our adventure could officially begin.
2 hours later…
What is this place?
After hours of roads, hills, and empty lands, a busy, marvelous town filled with smiling, busy people, opened up in front of our eyes.
Merchants, locals, kids chasing each other laughing, bakeries, and markets were all somehow concentrated in an intricate map of tight roads and secret passageways. Dangerously uphill roads were climbing up, but locals drove up with broken and hold cars without a care in the world.
A miracle.
There were Maggiolinos everywhere, which we later discovered served as Taxis.
People screamed: “Estacionar??” to any car that passed by, us included.
But we did not listen.
Our gaze was lost in the spectacle that made itself more and more beautiful in front of our eyes.
After some time, we realized that we had to park. As we answered YES to a chubby Mexican guy’s request to park in his garage, he started running with broken flip flops all over town gesturing with his arm to follow him.
He was literally sprinting and dodging people to make sure we followed his pace. I had never seen anything like that.
As we got to the parking, his shirt was SOAKING wet. He took one good minute to catch his breath and he pointed us to the empty spot.
We were walking in an immersive experience made up of countless sounds, colors, and smells. Roads were tight, so drivers literally touched people with their cars as a signal to get out of the way. And locals seemed not to care.
An entire ecosystem of hidden markets was thriving in tight, descending, and almost invisible paths. As a matter of fact, I peeked down the road and discovered it when I moved a curtain that was covering it all.
It was made up of locals selling fruits I have never seen, old ladies knitting and chatting, tacos and burritos stands, and handmade accessories shops. It was an entirely new town that opened up the second you left the main street.
I had to try those fruits. And as always, I was welcomed with some of the most candid eyes and smiles I ever received:
Just look at how much love her gaze is sharing with the world.
Everyone seemed not to care about whoever passed by, but the moment I interacted with them, then I was their only source of attention.
It was a feeling that was new to me.
We had a reservation at a restaurant overlooking the town and were walking in that direction. Look at this:
With filled stomachs, we kept exploring.
Not sure if you can see it from the video above, but there is a huge statue of Christ that dominates Taxco.
We decided that it had to be our next destination.
One minute and 12 seconds after considering climbing up there with a good 40-minute walk under burning heat…
Andreas obviously took his shirt off. But hey, we’re Italians. Let’s make sure people are aware of that. 😂
… we decided to take a Taxi. And thank God we did. It was going to be quite the hike to get to the top.
To the summit, a gigantic statue of a Christ dominated the incredible view.
After contemplating the town from above, resting a little bit in the shade (it was super warm that day), and taking some pictures, we got ready to descend back into the city. Here is the last look at Taxco de Alarcón’s center:
I left Taxco that I was still digesting its marvelousness and unicity.
Processing those few hours of permanence in that magic town took me the entire trip back.
But we did not leave right away.
In fact, we decided to go discover another place before driving back home.
And let me just say….
It was worth it.
But that’s another story.
Guatemala // Solo-Traveling
“Aren’t you scared? People are crazy down there.” , “Bring some knives.” , “It has been nice to have known you, Mattia.”
Voices from my roommates, teammates, and professors, too. Nope, my parents did not know about it. Not that they would have said no to it, but I didn’t want to add a few sleepless night to my parents’ packed schedule.
And so, I left.
The BIGGEST, loudest, craziest college student’s holiday was approaching.
Spring Break is supposed to be a week dedicated to partying and going wild with friends.
Cancun, Miami Beach, Fort Lauderdale are among the top destinations. Roommates meet weeks in advance to plan the trip, attend concerts, get wasted, and build lifetime memories.
I did that, and it was okay. This year, it wasn’t the case.
I am not really the party guy among my friends. I had crazy night time adventures too in my previous years, but I’m getting to a point where I’d rather invest my time and money in doing something else.
I wanted to see the world like I never did, visit places where life is different than what I ever saw anywhere else.
So, I picked up my laptop and opened Airbnb.
Guests: 1 Adult
Check In: March 4th
Check Out: March 16th
Destination: Anywhere.
Search.
Soooo many options came up. You may not have the same safeness that hotels can assure you, but traveling with often Airbnb adds to your trip priceless sensations and experiences. Something that any luxury king size hotel room could never give you.
What I value the most when I travel, is how close I get to the locals there.
How “local” can a random tourist really be? That’s what Airbnb can give you, together, of course, low rates.
Anyways, this is where I stayed.
But the best part is how I got there.
That’s Lake Atitlán, overlooked by the active honomym Volcano, which I hiked overnight while it was erupting.
Told you my parents better not know about it.
So, how did I even reach that marvelous Airbnb?
Well, that’s a whole story.
As soon as I jumped off the plane, I was approached by a small man in his sixties holding a pistol temperature checker.
He was alone, and had to take the temperature of every single passenger of every single flight landing during that hours.
Good luck.
Maybe not the “most fair” thing, but the moment you step out of the plane and start walking inside your destination country’s airport, your brain creates a series of assumptions and ideas about the place you are visiting that are based on your first sensations and emotions.
This is why airports are constantly renovated. Tourism workers know this very well.
What I subconsciously felt:
- humanity
- poverty
- warmth
- aggregation
Turns out I was kinda right. The moment I walked out of the airport, I was seated in the backseat of a taxi cab, and I didn’t even know how that went on. It happened so quickly and passively that I couldn’t even realize where I was for a moment.
His name was “Rodri", he was driving with one hand (the other one was holding a Corona), an unbuttoned shirt, and playing loud Bachata Music. Although many would have said the opposite, the guy transmitted me a magic sense of serenity.
- Donde?
- Atitlàn.
- Bueno.
By the time we drove five minutes, Rodri stopped the car, went into a gas station and offered me a “Gallo” beer, the most popular in Guatemala.
Side Note:
Before the trip I had no idea how to speak Spanish, but for some reason I felt like I knew it all along and some words naturally started to come out of my mouth. After driving 20 minutes, I already knew about Rodri’s, family, job, and a list recommended places to visit.
Rodri drives super slow.
A lot of smiles, dances, and stroke-by-the-language-barrier conversations happened in his old, light grey car.
The first stop of our journey is Antigua.
I could see that Antigua is the main destination in Guatemala.
Despite a lot of poverty, I noticed thriving businesses such as restaurants, tour operators, supermarkets, gyms…
And so many Tuk Tuks. Which I had never seen before.
Before saying goodbye to Rodri, he told me to wait in the main square (Plaza Central) for a chicken bus driver, whose name was Hector.
Hector was supposed to pick me up and drive me to the opposite side of the lake where my Airbnb was, which was on the listing, was called “Casa de Castro.”
There, I would jump on a boat and reach the other side of Atitlàn.
Without knowing how, who, when.
For some reason, I trusted all of Rodri’s words.
He also added to check around myself before boarding the chicken bus. He said that policemen don’t like it when tourists travel unlawfully, and that I could risk being searched in case they saw me.
And there I was: traveling unlawfully, alone, in the middle of nowhere in Guatemala.
Wish I knew I couldn’t take a chicken bus.
After two hours, Hector showed up.
That was already a big relief, especially since no policemen were around the moment I jumped on the “bus.”
Matìas?
Si.
Bueno. Adelante.
I shared the journey to the lake with two local guys and a third solo-traveler, which were quite silent.
I was sitting in the front, next to the driver.
I decided to break the silence and - again, magically - engaged in conversation with Hector.
He is the owner of a tour operator agency. He does all kind of stuff, from hikes to mountain climbing, snorkeling, rafting and much more.
When he asked something about me, I shared the fact that I study marketing and that, after checking his social media presence and logo, I could be able to help him out with branding his services.
That opened up the conversation and led him to share more about himself.
And about that chicken-bus, which I wish he did not do.
Turns out it was a stolen vehicle, and that policemen were still hunting for it. As I noticed along the way, the plate was in fact missing.
That got me a little bit. But I found myself in such a weird positive confidence in what was about to come, that I stupidly did not even consider that something bad was literally impossible to happen. Hector was driving with a smile on his face bigger than the sun.
I could not stop noticing it. People just smiled. To anyone, and for whatever reason.
During the three-hour drive, we stopped along the way to admire incredible views. And a lot of poverty, too.
By the time we got to Lake Atitlàn, it was dark.
Hector let me play music the whole ride, and I was explaining him the meaning of the quite simple English words he could not understand.
That chicken-bus ride will always stay with me: seeing the amount of happiness in people’s faces, considering the very little they had, filled up my soul with joy. I was the only one left on the bus, the three other people jumped off well before me.
Me and Hector said goodbye like old friends do.
I watched him drive away and disappear in a dark forest.
It was now time to jump on a boat, cross the lake, and somehow get to my Airbnb, which looked quite uphill from the pictures I saw.
A boat was supposed to wait for me at the lake.
Except no one was there.
I was alone.
I stood in front of the majestic, darkest Atitlàn, with very little phone battery, no water, and no clue about what to do.
I started thinking about my trip so far, and began reconsidering all the good thoughts I had about these smiling people.
They treated me so well from the beginning, and I have been very nice to them too.
What could have possibly gone wrong?
Maybe I said something insulting?
Or perhaps, to them, I was just another American tourist to make fun of.
About half a hour went by.
Nothing.
I started to pick myself up and go look for someone that could at least give me some food.
But the moment I moved my first steps, I heard something from very far away.
It was a horn.
I squinted at the black, gigantic expanse of water that stood at my feet, and noticed a dim light, slowly moving up and down.
A boat.
Someone was coming.
I didn’t know if it was coming for me, but my heart started racing. I felt so energetic again.
I took back everything bad I said about these people, and began waving and screaming to that small, barely visible point of light that was making itself more and more bright.
After about fifteen minutes, the boat arrived.
I was approached by a guy about my age.
He was wearing a red hat with all the confidence in this world. I could see that it made him feel like a real boss.
Despite his young age, I sensed that the guy felt proud of his job and behaved like a long time seaman.
Matìas?
Si. Tengo de llegar a San Marcos.
Bueno.
Side Note: For some reason, everyone knew my name even though I NEVER heard Rodri or Hector saying it to ANYONE.
He took my luggage and threw it on the top of the boat with no hesitation.
I was pretty worried that the bag would fall in the lake, but he looked so used to do it that I didn’t dare to ask.
So, our lake-crossing journey began at about 10 PM.
All the rudeness the guy showed me in the beginning, slowly faded away the moment we started talking about soccer.
I noticed he was wearing a fake Manchester United jersey. That was probably the first “branded” t-shirt I saw.
His name was Santiago.
I was sitting next to him on top of the boat, sailing in the darkness.
All I could hear was the boat’s engine, the birds, and the wind. A beautiful sensation of freedom fell over me like it never did in my life.
It happened in a moment where God knows where Santiago was taking me, with no phone signal whatsoever, under a sky full of stars.
That moment defined what happiness signifies to me. It’s a state of mind, no matter where you are, with who, or when.
But “the best” is yet to come.
After about the first twenty minutes of the journey, I started to hear some voices.
I thought me and Santiago were alone, but when I descended the roof and looked under it, here is what I saw:
The boat was FULL of Guatemalans.
I could count at least twenty of them. If you brought such a boat in Italy, I don’t think more than eight people could fit in there.
They were all silent, with a smile on their faces. Some of them were sleeping, and other woke up as soon as they heard me jumping off the roof.
They all looked at me as if I was the first person who doesn’t come from a village surrounding Lake Atitlàn.
None of them said nothing. It was all in their eyes: fear-mixed astonishment.
After five to ten seconds, they all resumed what they were doing before they saw me.
Staring at the lake, looking and whispering at each others.
I learned from Santi that they were all moving from village to village, returning from a work day.
In Guatemala, nobody knew what COVID was, or maybe they were just ignoring it.
At that time COVID was beginning its slow ascent to become a global pandemic. When they heard the word COVID, either by some tourists or on the TV, they all turned their nose up.
Meanwhile, we were getting closer to San Marcos.
All I could see was a handful of dim lights, and what looked like a small pier.
I went down one more time to look at everyone, and started to pick myself up for the next journey to Casa de Castro, my place.
With who, how, or what, I didn’t know. Midnight was approaching.
Santi was sad to see me go away. I though he was about to cry when I hugged him for my first and last time.
Before he sailed away, we promised to meet again in my next two weeks in Guatemala.
Except we didn’t decide where, or when.The moment I stepped on the pier, I was approached by two kids.
Adding up their age, you were left with no more than twenty years.
¿Dónde tienes que ir?Casa de Castro.
Bueno.
Francisco and Manuel were two chubby children that offered to drive me (yes, drive) to my place.
And there I was.
In the hands of two kids.
They ordered me to follow them as we entered San Marcos.
It was not before a ten minute walk that we reached the center of the village.
So many lights, people playing, old ladies knitting, babies crying, soccer balls, avocados, dogs.
And of course, Tuk Tuk drivers. They all looked like Harley Davidson owners.
Their vehicles were personalized with big stickers such as “El Diablo,” or college-style numbers.
San Marco’s Times Square!
The oldest driver I saw was no more than sixteen.
The moment I stepped in the square, every single one of them turned at me.
Stared five seconds.
And then the chaos began again.
All this mess was hidden behind the hills.
I never expected to see something like that: from the boat, San Marcos looked dead.
By the time I realized what I was witnessing, Francisco (the Monster hat owner in the video) and Manuel were already way ahead of me.
Señor Matías!
I better hurry.
When I realized I hadn’t eaten in the last nine hours or so, Francisco and Manuel were still walking me to our private Tuk Tuk.
The thought of spending the first night in - hopefully - my bed without my stomach full, slowly began to scare me.
I asked them if we could stop somewhere and buy some food.
We went to a thirteen year old butcher.
WHY ON EARTH WAS THIS VILLAGE LITERALLY RUN BY KIDS?
I started to think that my Airbnb host could be fifteen years old, if I was lucky.
I payed my chicken 20 Quetzales, about $2.50. Asked for a bag, and waved at the kid (kid, of course).
I'm the worst cooker ever: I did not have the faintest idea as how to manage that piece of meat I just bought.
I left the butcher pretty clueless. "YouTube tutorials will save me," I thought.
Hopeful to find a valid walkthrough video, I jumped back on the Tuk Tuk.
The driver was pretty silent, while Francisco and Manuel were very energetic. On our way, another kid jumped on the back.
Adding up the weight of my luggage, I felt like the Tuk Tuk was about to explode.
We started to take more and more turns that were slowly leading us further away from the center.
The road was dark.
The only thing that lighted the way were the Tuk Tuk’s dim front lights.
My iPhone’s is torch definitely more powerful.
No more lights, or people, or dogs.
Just us five, a very fatigued vehicle, and a super bumpy road.
Our heads kept hitting the roof of the Tuk Tuk, the road was wrecked.
We were beginning to go uphill. That comforted me, because the Airbnb listing I saw showed pictures took from a hill overlooking the big lake. On the other hand, however, if anything were to happen to me then, nobody on Earth could ever find out.
And by the way, why the hell were there four Guatemalans on the Tuk Tuk?
The thought just came to be, and widened my eyes for good.
Shouldn’t I be alone with the driver?
Before, I overheard Francisco telling him my destination, and he nodded his head yes with no hesitation. He definitely knew the way.
But still, three extra passengers.
Suddenly, I considered that It would have been very easy for them to point out a gun at me. Or run away with my luggage.
After all, San Marcos did not look like a very surveilled place; the last policeman I saw was in Antigua, about six hours ago.
Every extra turn we took added a few beats per minute to my heart.
We got close to what looked like a walkable path that faded into the dark forest: the driver pulled over.
“Casa de Castro,’” he said.
“Casa?”, I thought. What does he mean, “Casa?” All I could see was trees!
I jumped off the Tuk Tuk, looked around myself, and replied:
Donde?
Aquì!
He replied with insolence, and gave me that look that makes you feel stupid. Like, c’mon! Don’t you see it?
I was silent, but I think my body gesture spoke for my mouth.
Francisco and Manuel looked at each others, nodded their heads in disgust, and moved a few branches.
They were hiding a wooden door that resembled the listing’s picture.
Oh my God, that’s it!
Gracias! Gracias!
They took me to my destination.
But they all didn’t look that satisfied yet, and started to slowly walk to me.
With their hands in their pockets.
Four black shapes were now circling me: the darkness and their hoodies were hiding their expression.
They were closer than arm’s length distance.
…
A voice:
Senior Matìas?
“What?” I blabbered, followed by a long exhale.
¿Puede darnos dinero por favor?
Inhale. Exhale.
An entire mountain just fell off my shoulders.
Poor kids just wanted their tip!
I never felt so happy to give money to anyone in my entire life.
¡¡Sí!!
I gave them what came out of my pockets, and did my best to evenly split it.
Now I see why the fifth guy jumped up on our Tuk Tuk: he wanted money.
They wanted my money.
THEY WANTED MY MONEY! YAAAAYYY!
Not sure in what other context on Earth can such a sentence have a positive meaning.
Okay, so that’s what relief means!
I climbed up the path and rang the doorbell.
Matìas?
Sì!
Started to think you got lost, buddy! Come on up.
Finally someone was speaking in English!
I made my way up following the garden path; Castro was there waiting for me with two avocados in his hands and a big smile on his face.
I remember that vision to be quite alleviating.
His house was nice. A villa surrounded by a well kept garden, tall palms, and chairs hanging from trees.
He showed me my way to my place, just two minutes walk from his, and wished me goodnight.
The place was special. It looked like an helicopter perfectly laid the house in the middle of all those branches.
I didn’t notice how tired I was until then, so I said to myself that I’d have left the chicken for tomorrow, not too convinced that the real problem was my tiredness.
My head smashed the pillow beneath.
I felt at peace.
I felt in the middle of a dream, and despite the adverse conditions, I didn’t want to wake up.
Sunsets & Sunrises.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Sunset.”
This is a collection of some of the best sunsets and sunrises I ever witnessed.
None of the pictures you’ll see has filters applied. It will be hard to believe while looking at some of them.
NO camera will ever justify their beauty, but maybe it’s how it should be.
Tulum, Mexico. From my Airbnb.
Camogli, GE, ITA.
JFK Airport, NYC.
Sunrise on my way to Komodo Island from Labuan Bajo. From a boat.
Sunset overlooking (and reflecting) on rice terraces from Ubud, Bali. I left a piece of my heart in this Cafe, called “Pomegranate.”
Sunset in Frankfurt - from my girlfriend’s apartment - at 21:49. (9:49 PM)
Day in the Life
/
Day in the Life /
.
10/15/2023. Based on real events.
7:03 AM: I wake up. Face ID —> Swipe Up —> WhatsApp. My mom got a new purse and Dunkin’s shares are down.
Good. Their “coffee” tastes like citric acid anyway. I wash my face.
8:54 AM: I go for a run. It’s cloudy. My legs move - my mind?
Gonna be a cold one, buddy
Why do I even run
That guy’s fast
I should call my dad
I love dogs
You’re tired. Go home
12:48 PM: I get on the subway. C train downtown to grab lunch with someone. Airpods on: Dire Straits today.
People sleep, dance, read, take selfies, sell Mangoes. I’d buy it if they only took Venmo. I exit the train.
1:30 PM: We eat. My social battery is low. I quickly glance at my watch. When will this thing end?
2:21 PM: Let’s do this again soon!
C Uptown is suspended. By the time I get home, my kids go to college. Dunkin’s shares are up.
3:28 PM: “Jeez, I’m always lonely over the weekends.”
4:02 PM: My dad went mushroom-picking. He found a lot. He tells me he’d probably sell them to Roberto and gift the rest. He was happy. Me too: mushroom-picking keeps him healthy.
5:00 PM: I read. I fall asleep in 10 minutes (planned). I dream.
I can fly, but nobody knows. I have a feeling I will save someone from dying. Only THEN, everyone will know. My hypothesis is confirmed: I feel like a hero. I’m on TV giving a speech sipping Dunkin’s.
5:37 PM: I wake up. Dunkin’s?! What the hell? Karma, I think. I go back to sleep.
5:41 PM: “Mr. Cella, why didn’t you tell us you could fly?” “I don’t know! That’s what happens in movies, no?” And then I fly away with my dog. He also can fly. I tell myself to cut the bullshit. So I wake up.
6:37 PM: Dinner is nearing. Great, I think. Sundays are my ordering days. My mouth waters thinking of me biting a Slice. I like pizza.
8:11 PM: It was cold. The driver took 17 wrong turns. I counted. 17 is an unlucky number, anyway. I looked up why that is. People are stupid.
10:30 PM: Yes, 10:30. I go to sleep at 10:30. You’re so old. It was a nice day. I think about why I hate Wednesdays so much. Why not Mondays? Dunkin’s shar- ZzZ… zZz.