My name is Aidan. The guy behind most of the photos and all of the words on this website. I am not sure if you care; I'm pretty sure I wouldn't care if I were reading this.

If you're still here, here it is. (tldr: I'm a surfer and photographer who just finished driving an old Toyota 4Runner from the US to Argentina over the course of 4 years. Then went up to Alaska to close the loop.)

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I grew up in Southern California, surrounded by surfing and water in general. I'm a photographer, and documentary filmmaker. At some point in my mid-20s, after a significant stint working for the man in New York City and a serious personal reality check, I decided to go figure out what makes me tick and follow some dreams of mine for a while. That while turned into a long while.

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In 2021 I booked a one-way ticket to Bocas del Toro, PA — a little island paradise in the Caribbean. More on that on the Bocas page. I spent a little more than 3 months on that island. I went to Spanish school every day for 4 hours the entire time I was there. I learned as much Spanish as a dumb gringo who was trying to not be a dumb gringo could. I did pretty well if I do say so myself.

After those months I came back to the States. I bought an unregistered 1998 Toyota 4Runner, now named Bobi, in New York City with no license plate. I loaded up all of my things from my life there, found an old license plate from Rhode Island, slapped it on the back of the car, and drove it to California over the course of a month. Somehow I never got pulled over. But just about everything that was going to go wrong with my old 4Runner did over the course of that 6,000-mile month.

I spent a few months back home, building the car out into a home, fixing the car, and saying a lot of goodbyes.

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In October 2021 I entered Mexico with the goal of driving all the way to Argentina over the course of the next few years. The idea was to go to every country I could drive to (sorry Suriname and Guyana). I say idea and not plan intentionally. Plans have a tendency of fucking with expectations. I knew the trip was going to take me a long time. That's how I wanted it to be — slow, at my own pace, with time to really see it, experience it, and live life for a little while. That’s exactly what I have been doing.

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I decided to write this guide after arriving in Panama, more than 2 years in. I had stayed in each country for pretty much as long as I was legally allowed to do so. I had seen these countries in a relatively acceptable manner, I thought. I came home to California for a few months to take a break, recharge, and — importantly — get back some of that travel spark that anyone who has gotten this far is all too familiar with.

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So here it is. A no-frills recount of what I saw, what I liked, what I didn't like. You will hear my voice in here at times. If I liked something, you'll know; if I didn't, well, you'll know too. That’s how I want to hear about things. I figured I wasn't all that unique. So that's how I will write. Something like this just felt like it was missing from the world. The information is all out there, but not told like this — from someone like you, not some travel-blogging influencer or travel writer. Just a guy who did it and has an opinion.

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Going slow allowed me to see a lot. This website is what I saw, and how I saw it. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope this helps you in some way or maybe takes you to a place you didn't know existed.

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By September 2025 I had finished the Pan-American Highway — arriving in Ushuaia, Argentina after nearly 964 days on the road and 66,858 kms in January 2025. I proceeded to tick off the rest of South America and ship the car north. I closed the loop in the Arctic Circle of Alaska, with a few-month stint on a commercial fishing boat on the way. The whole Western Hemisphere completed with my old car.

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I grew tired of this — it no longer interested me — travel guides for countries. So I stopped. At Central America the Bobi Book ends. So here you have it: one of the most extensive guides to Central America you can find for the budget-inclined gypsy. South America is large, unconquerable, and different for everyone anyway. Anyone who thinks they can try to sum that up is incorrect, and I don't plan on trying.