Yes, its super famous, its expensive but its worth the trip. We knew that we wanted to visit Machu Pichu: the train journey there and back was out of the question due to price and the lack of adventure, the Inca Trail was sold out and full of bandit agencies and Angel´s leg wouldn´t have held up for the five day Salkantay Trail. So with a little luck we met Nicolas in our youth hostel who told us of an alternative route.
We left Cuzco in the popular minivans for the for hour journey to the village of Santa Maria where we would start our two day hike. Our journey took us from the green, fertile valleys around Cuzco up through a mountian pass to 5200m and down into the humid valleys around Machu Pichu. During our steep climb to the pass we were amazed to pass through the clouds, feel the temperature drop and finally to see glaciers on the mountian peaks. One of the most beautiful aspects of the trip has been seeing how diverse the landscape is in these countries. We then dropped down the other side of the valley into the humid, fertile valleys.
Early morning we left Santa Maria toward Santa Teresa on the local road, which would at best probably be classified as a track back home. Along the way we picked mangos, bananas, oranges and avocados from the trees. All of which tasted divine. On our way we saw families crossing the river on cables and carts. Stupidly we missed the turnoff which would have joined the Inca Trail. Instead of walking the valley floor we followed the dusty, windy and steep road which under the baking sun was hard work. Angel, his typical self cursed and cursed whilst I laughed hoping that things would get easier.
After 7 hours we reached Colcomayo thermal pools and all the effort was rewarded. The feeling of jumping into a cold waterfall and then into a hot thermal pool was almost emotional enough to bring a tear to my eye. We stayed at the pools for hours, resting our tired legs and enjoying ourselves immensly. We spent the night at Santa Teresa.
Whilst having a meal with another Spanish traveller we got into a discussion regarding our impact through tourim (Yes, a repeating subject). For our meal we were waitered for by two young boys who couldn´t have been older than ten years old. They work as hard as any waiter and I gave them each a five soles (two euro) tip for their hard work. Our Spanish travelling companion argued that this was having a negative impact and that I should not have given a tip. He argued that such a tip was almost 50% of a persons daily wage and would undermine their parents hard work. He also suggested that these children would grow to think as tourists as a source of money and little else. By now I had had a couple of pisco sours, the lovely local drink and argued that they had earned their money like any worker and that our tourism i.e spending money in the village was a positive impact. All good banter but I left with my head spinning with all these thoughts.
The next day we caught a taxi for five miles to Hydroelectrica and then followed the trainline to Machu Pichu. We arrived at Aguas Calientes, the village below Machu Pichu absolutely knackered and had to climb uphill to our hostel. Considering that Aguas Calientes is the most touristic village in Peru it still held some charm, particlarly considering the beautiful location nestled into the lush green hills. That day we spent in the village, buying our tickets and haggling for reasonable food prices.
The next morning at 4am we rose to walk to Machu Pichu. Our aim was to get to the entrance before the first buses at 5.50am. We started in the dark and walked uphill for an hour. Sweating like mad we reached the entrance and collapsed for a few minutes. Once we were allowed in we made our way to Waynu Pichu, the peak overlooking the site of Machu Pichu. When we were allowed up at 7am we scrambled up as quickly as possible and had the summit to ourselves for ten minutes. The 360 degree view was fantastic, with Machu Pichu below, the train line far down in the valley and the snow covered peaks in the distance. See the photos...
We spent the day exploring the site, listening into guided groups in Spanish, English and French and gaining an insite to the history. There are numerous hypothesis as to how Machu Pichu came about but without doubt the Incas were amazing people. The remoteness of the location, the workmanship (all the rounded rocks were worked byhand) and the construction in keeping with the stars, sun and moon. Also there believe that this hard work was to please the Gods (to be honest I dont think that they were all voluntary and surely a lot of slaves would have been used).
We caught the bus down to Aguas Calientes and destroyed an all you can eat buffet. We then caught the train to Cuzco and back to our lovely hostel. The next day we hung around Cuzco and prepared ourselves for a trip to the beach.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Al huevon
We left La Paz early in the morning on our way to Lago Titicaca. By now travelling by bus was second nature however we were grateful for the beautiful views of the snow covered, glacial peaks of the Cordillera Real looming behind Lago Titicaca. We were headed for Copacabana (not to be confused with the Brazilian city of the same name) at the Peruvian border where we would catch a bus to Puno. Our journey involved crossing Estrecho de Tiquina by boat, whilst we watched our bus cross on a precarious looking barge. Arriving at Puno we headed to the harbour were we chartered a little boat to take us the the floating islands of Los Uros. At an altitude of 3600m Lago Titicaca is the highest navegable lake in the world, 180km long, belonging to Peru and Bolivia.
There are approximately 40 islands which form part of Los Uros and what make these islands interesting is that they are constructed of reed roots. Each island varies in size, many have restaraunts, shops and even a church. We visited two islands on our trip and stayed the night at the island of Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) which we shared with the family of eight. The islands are constructed by cutting 5m x 5m blocks of reed roots, one metre thick and then using ropes and stakes tying numerous blocks together. Once the island is the correct size for the family or families long ropes are taken from the corners of the island and run to the mainland where they are staked into the ground. Every two weeks reeds are cut and placed on the island floor.
We stayed a night on the island of Pacha Mama with another traveller Yoshi from Japan. We were fed delicious lake trout which actually looked and tasted more like salmon. The highlight for me were the brief moments in which we talked to one of the girls who had come to live on the island with her boyfriend and how she had adapted to being an islander. I left the following day having really enjoyed my experience on the island but also with a similar feeling: was my visit and role in tourism producing a positive effect on the islanders? Tourists were visiting daily, numerous boats were transporting people from the islands, we were asked for contributions from numerous islanders and prices were severly overinflated. I´d like to think that my money ( as well as my interaction on a personal level) allows the islanders to continue living their life in such a beautiful and remote location, however I couldnt help think that many of the islanders only lived for the tourism, the traditional way of life was rarley seen and I was viewed more as a source of revenue than as a person.
Cuzco
Reaching Cuzco was like arriving at our Mecca. After travelling so far we were ecstatic to arrive in Cuzco which would be our base for exploring Machu Pichu, rafting and enjoying the odd party. Our first night did not dissapoint as we found two great bars: km 0 and Siete Angelitos in San Blas which sucked us in and spat us out at daylight. We were a little devoid of adrenalin and so we signed up to a three day rafting trip down the Rio Apurimac with Mayuc. Another company had told us that under no circumstances would they descend the river at this time of the year, just as the rainy season was starting. So with some trepedation we left Cuzco in the vans with our guides and 10 Isralies clients. We took four hours of precarious, windy, narrow and dangerous driving to reach our destination. Even now I don´t wish to think about the steep drops into the valley floor. Our guides were great fun, profesional and great cooks. Considering all the food was transported in the raft and we ate on little beaches we dined like Kings. The rafting was fantastic. For three days we followed the river which cut through 2000m deep granite gorges, saw condors, jumped of 10m rocks and I even got to drive the raft. wooohoooo. We arrived back in Cuzco happy and tired looking forward to our walk to Machu Pichu
There are approximately 40 islands which form part of Los Uros and what make these islands interesting is that they are constructed of reed roots. Each island varies in size, many have restaraunts, shops and even a church. We visited two islands on our trip and stayed the night at the island of Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) which we shared with the family of eight. The islands are constructed by cutting 5m x 5m blocks of reed roots, one metre thick and then using ropes and stakes tying numerous blocks together. Once the island is the correct size for the family or families long ropes are taken from the corners of the island and run to the mainland where they are staked into the ground. Every two weeks reeds are cut and placed on the island floor.
We stayed a night on the island of Pacha Mama with another traveller Yoshi from Japan. We were fed delicious lake trout which actually looked and tasted more like salmon. The highlight for me were the brief moments in which we talked to one of the girls who had come to live on the island with her boyfriend and how she had adapted to being an islander. I left the following day having really enjoyed my experience on the island but also with a similar feeling: was my visit and role in tourism producing a positive effect on the islanders? Tourists were visiting daily, numerous boats were transporting people from the islands, we were asked for contributions from numerous islanders and prices were severly overinflated. I´d like to think that my money ( as well as my interaction on a personal level) allows the islanders to continue living their life in such a beautiful and remote location, however I couldnt help think that many of the islanders only lived for the tourism, the traditional way of life was rarley seen and I was viewed more as a source of revenue than as a person.
Cuzco
Reaching Cuzco was like arriving at our Mecca. After travelling so far we were ecstatic to arrive in Cuzco which would be our base for exploring Machu Pichu, rafting and enjoying the odd party. Our first night did not dissapoint as we found two great bars: km 0 and Siete Angelitos in San Blas which sucked us in and spat us out at daylight. We were a little devoid of adrenalin and so we signed up to a three day rafting trip down the Rio Apurimac with Mayuc. Another company had told us that under no circumstances would they descend the river at this time of the year, just as the rainy season was starting. So with some trepedation we left Cuzco in the vans with our guides and 10 Isralies clients. We took four hours of precarious, windy, narrow and dangerous driving to reach our destination. Even now I don´t wish to think about the steep drops into the valley floor. Our guides were great fun, profesional and great cooks. Considering all the food was transported in the raft and we ate on little beaches we dined like Kings. The rafting was fantastic. For three days we followed the river which cut through 2000m deep granite gorges, saw condors, jumped of 10m rocks and I even got to drive the raft. wooohoooo. We arrived back in Cuzco happy and tired looking forward to our walk to Machu Pichu
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Bolivia
Photos: http://picasaweb.google.es/alexisviaje
Its probably a bit cheeky to try and fit in a the journey through one country into one blog, but Bolivia was a big journey.
I´ve always thought that borders are a little ridiculous. Just crossing a line, or a river or a mountain range and suddenly you are in a different country and everything changes. And so that was my opinion before crossing from La Quiaca in Argentina to Villazon in Bolivia. A dry river bed divided the customs offices and the two villages. 50 steps and we were in Bolivia and it was actually all a little different. The obvious changed, such as the money, we now used bolivianos, but the people were noticably more indigenous in appearance, much darker skinned and almost all of the women were dressed in the typical outfit: shin length skirt, colourful shawl and a bowler hat. After our experience in Paraguay I was a little apprehensive about border towns and felt so as we walked through the streets. It was Saturday morning and the village was lively and to add to this there was a fiesta with children dressed in various traditional costumes dancing through the streets to marching bands. The pavements were lined with stalls selling interesting foods and drinks, however I decided that my stomach wasnt up to the challenge of such gastronamy.
From Villazon we caught the train to Uyuni where we had been recommended a three day tour of the salt flats and antiplano. The train slowly cruised through the dry red and orange coloured surroundings. Every once in a while in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere we would see a shepard and his flock, which always left us wondering how they got there and from where had they come. There were no bridges on the railway line and the train followed the contours of the valley. We passed small settlements all made of adobe with adobe bricks drying outside.
Uyuni
Almost everything seems like a challenge whilst travelling. We stepped off the train at midnight and were surrounded by people wishing to take us to their acommodation. We asked for some time to think and their response was to step back half a metre, listen and stare at us. So late in the day this felt like hard work but I´ve learnt some valuable lessons and skills: bartering and being exactly sure with whom I want to spend my money with.The next time I´m in a hotel in the UK I think I´ll leave the staff a little perplexed: ¨so you can´t give me the room for ten pounds less?, let me just check the bed, is there hot water? and does it run all day? what exactly does breakfast include?? But at least I´ll try and make my money go as far as possible and will value every pound.
We booked our tour with Andrea Tours (I recommend them and if anybody goes ask for Mario the driver and his girlfriend/cook Paulina) and on Monday morning we climbed into the 4x4 with our new friends: Sandra from Germany, Anna from Iceland, and Koen and Natalia from Holland. We spent the next three days together, along with the other twenty groups doing exactly the same tour and countless hours in the jeep together.
I´ll let the photos do the talking, otherwise this will end up as long as my dissetation.
Anyway, we finished the three days having visited magnificent dazzling white salt plains, active volcanoes, geysers, thermal pools and beautiful green salt lakes. We were also sick and tired of being squashed into a vehicle and of desert, dust and dryness. That night we hopped onto the train to Oruro. The journey took a little longer as a train had deralied and at 6am we were changed trains with the people heading South to Uyuni.
Another bus journey and we were in La Paz. On our way there we had finally begun to see some green grass, running rivers and even more spectaculary the snow covered peaks of the Cordillera Real. In La Paz we checked into a hotel, which although was basic felt like a complete luxury after our days in Uyuni. I dont think I´ve been so happy to see a shower and a good be in such a long time. We only spent the night in La Paz but I left with a great impression of the city and with a desire to return one day.
Entering La Paz was really a striking experience. We passed through the antiplano, the poorer town lying above La Paz. The streets were chaotic, whole families travelled in open top lorries, electrical cables zig-zagged the city in a perilous looking manner, numerous street walls had Eva (Eva Morales President of Bolivia) Cumple, Eva Si, minibuses carried far too many people all to the sound of a symphony of car horns. The bus dropped into the valley in which La Paz is situated and we saw many half completed houses-the metal supports of the second storey ready for when there is enough money to continue building, people risking their lives to cross the streets (not even children are respected pedestrians), street shoe shinners looking sinister in their black baloclavas. Young children were in the street doing every job imaginable.
Its probably a bit cheeky to try and fit in a the journey through one country into one blog, but Bolivia was a big journey.
I´ve always thought that borders are a little ridiculous. Just crossing a line, or a river or a mountain range and suddenly you are in a different country and everything changes. And so that was my opinion before crossing from La Quiaca in Argentina to Villazon in Bolivia. A dry river bed divided the customs offices and the two villages. 50 steps and we were in Bolivia and it was actually all a little different. The obvious changed, such as the money, we now used bolivianos, but the people were noticably more indigenous in appearance, much darker skinned and almost all of the women were dressed in the typical outfit: shin length skirt, colourful shawl and a bowler hat. After our experience in Paraguay I was a little apprehensive about border towns and felt so as we walked through the streets. It was Saturday morning and the village was lively and to add to this there was a fiesta with children dressed in various traditional costumes dancing through the streets to marching bands. The pavements were lined with stalls selling interesting foods and drinks, however I decided that my stomach wasnt up to the challenge of such gastronamy.
From Villazon we caught the train to Uyuni where we had been recommended a three day tour of the salt flats and antiplano. The train slowly cruised through the dry red and orange coloured surroundings. Every once in a while in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere we would see a shepard and his flock, which always left us wondering how they got there and from where had they come. There were no bridges on the railway line and the train followed the contours of the valley. We passed small settlements all made of adobe with adobe bricks drying outside.
Uyuni
Almost everything seems like a challenge whilst travelling. We stepped off the train at midnight and were surrounded by people wishing to take us to their acommodation. We asked for some time to think and their response was to step back half a metre, listen and stare at us. So late in the day this felt like hard work but I´ve learnt some valuable lessons and skills: bartering and being exactly sure with whom I want to spend my money with.The next time I´m in a hotel in the UK I think I´ll leave the staff a little perplexed: ¨so you can´t give me the room for ten pounds less?, let me just check the bed, is there hot water? and does it run all day? what exactly does breakfast include?? But at least I´ll try and make my money go as far as possible and will value every pound.
We booked our tour with Andrea Tours (I recommend them and if anybody goes ask for Mario the driver and his girlfriend/cook Paulina) and on Monday morning we climbed into the 4x4 with our new friends: Sandra from Germany, Anna from Iceland, and Koen and Natalia from Holland. We spent the next three days together, along with the other twenty groups doing exactly the same tour and countless hours in the jeep together.
I´ll let the photos do the talking, otherwise this will end up as long as my dissetation.
Anyway, we finished the three days having visited magnificent dazzling white salt plains, active volcanoes, geysers, thermal pools and beautiful green salt lakes. We were also sick and tired of being squashed into a vehicle and of desert, dust and dryness. That night we hopped onto the train to Oruro. The journey took a little longer as a train had deralied and at 6am we were changed trains with the people heading South to Uyuni.
Another bus journey and we were in La Paz. On our way there we had finally begun to see some green grass, running rivers and even more spectaculary the snow covered peaks of the Cordillera Real. In La Paz we checked into a hotel, which although was basic felt like a complete luxury after our days in Uyuni. I dont think I´ve been so happy to see a shower and a good be in such a long time. We only spent the night in La Paz but I left with a great impression of the city and with a desire to return one day.
Entering La Paz was really a striking experience. We passed through the antiplano, the poorer town lying above La Paz. The streets were chaotic, whole families travelled in open top lorries, electrical cables zig-zagged the city in a perilous looking manner, numerous street walls had Eva (Eva Morales President of Bolivia) Cumple, Eva Si, minibuses carried far too many people all to the sound of a symphony of car horns. The bus dropped into the valley in which La Paz is situated and we saw many half completed houses-the metal supports of the second storey ready for when there is enough money to continue building, people risking their lives to cross the streets (not even children are respected pedestrians), street shoe shinners looking sinister in their black baloclavas. Young children were in the street doing every job imaginable.
Walking the streets we were offered all sorts of contraband and women by numerous people. Dried llama feotus hung from shop windows-they are burried underneath a house when construction begins. We walked breathlessly through the chaotic streets watching the nightlife go bye.
Even though we spent so little a time in Bolivia I left with a great impression. The rural people were very quiet, humble and respectful. We were always left in peace to wander the streets and view people going on with their lives. As for La Paz, only another visit will tell me more.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Salta, salta conmigo
Ooh, I think I´m on the first stages of arthirits. My kness can´t take anymore travelling on trains or buses.
We tiredly stepped of the bus into Salta and were immediatley made to think. Do we tip the luggage man just for taking out my rucksack (its amazing how something voluntary can be made so feel obligotary at times) and of the six people trying to take us to a hostel who do we trust? So as my cousing Stephen says, as well a certain Toni Montana: "Just take it easy". Over breakfast we decided to go with Matias, who took us to our hostel. Not our first mistake of the trip and not our last but the hostel wasn´t all it was cracked up to be. Bad beds, noisy and the odd prostitute working the clients. No harm done, we had a few beers that night, met some interesting people and switched hostel the next day. I´ve been really impressed by how friendly the Argentinians are. They´re also a really sociable bunch and love to talk.
The next day and feeling truly part of the Gringo Trail we ooh and arrrhed as to whether we should go on the Tren de Las Nubes (Train to the Clouds) which rises through dramatic scenery to 4600m. We´d been told it was a must do trip but we´d also been told it was overpriced and overrated. That day our minds were thinking: "well, this maybe our one chance in a lifetime, so lets do it". I can only imagine if I thought that way about everything......
In the end the trip was spectacular, fun and maybe worth it. I´m still undecided :) We left at 6am, buying some coca leaves from a man at the station hoping this would help with the altitude. It was a strange experience hearing someone openly shout out: "coca, coca·". We left Salta climbing through the green valley, slowly becoming more barren reaching the sweeping puna or antiplano with its surrounding peaks. We were forced to stop for two hours on the trip outwards as there had been a rockfall onto the track. At three in the afternoon we reached our destination, am impressive viaduct with a 400m drop. If the conductor would have wanted to we could have continued onwards to Chile following the old mining tracks. On our way back we stopped at the village of San Pedro were we bought empanadas (pasties), tortillas and a local flute from a market. Those 15 minutes of mingling with the local people were perhaps the highlight of the trip. It also felt like a good way of spending money and supporting the local community, rather than giving a lot of money to a private rail company.
On the way down night fell and we saw the full moon rise over the mountains. The train wagons suddenly turned upside down with a different scene in each one: movies, dancing lessons, karaoke and siestas. We partied away to Argentine karaoke whilst making the odd trip to the bar. It was a magic hour spent dancing with everybody. At 3am we arrived back in Salta.
We hung out for another day as we had decided to part companies with Luis. Unfortunately we did not tell him the truth and made up a story. But thats another tale. But the lesson learnt, which I already knew: Be Honest.
So we caught the bus to Bolivia and to a very different country and new adventures.
We tiredly stepped of the bus into Salta and were immediatley made to think. Do we tip the luggage man just for taking out my rucksack (its amazing how something voluntary can be made so feel obligotary at times) and of the six people trying to take us to a hostel who do we trust? So as my cousing Stephen says, as well a certain Toni Montana: "Just take it easy". Over breakfast we decided to go with Matias, who took us to our hostel. Not our first mistake of the trip and not our last but the hostel wasn´t all it was cracked up to be. Bad beds, noisy and the odd prostitute working the clients. No harm done, we had a few beers that night, met some interesting people and switched hostel the next day. I´ve been really impressed by how friendly the Argentinians are. They´re also a really sociable bunch and love to talk.
The next day and feeling truly part of the Gringo Trail we ooh and arrrhed as to whether we should go on the Tren de Las Nubes (Train to the Clouds) which rises through dramatic scenery to 4600m. We´d been told it was a must do trip but we´d also been told it was overpriced and overrated. That day our minds were thinking: "well, this maybe our one chance in a lifetime, so lets do it". I can only imagine if I thought that way about everything......
In the end the trip was spectacular, fun and maybe worth it. I´m still undecided :) We left at 6am, buying some coca leaves from a man at the station hoping this would help with the altitude. It was a strange experience hearing someone openly shout out: "coca, coca·". We left Salta climbing through the green valley, slowly becoming more barren reaching the sweeping puna or antiplano with its surrounding peaks. We were forced to stop for two hours on the trip outwards as there had been a rockfall onto the track. At three in the afternoon we reached our destination, am impressive viaduct with a 400m drop. If the conductor would have wanted to we could have continued onwards to Chile following the old mining tracks. On our way back we stopped at the village of San Pedro were we bought empanadas (pasties), tortillas and a local flute from a market. Those 15 minutes of mingling with the local people were perhaps the highlight of the trip. It also felt like a good way of spending money and supporting the local community, rather than giving a lot of money to a private rail company.
On the way down night fell and we saw the full moon rise over the mountains. The train wagons suddenly turned upside down with a different scene in each one: movies, dancing lessons, karaoke and siestas. We partied away to Argentine karaoke whilst making the odd trip to the bar. It was a magic hour spent dancing with everybody. At 3am we arrived back in Salta.
We hung out for another day as we had decided to part companies with Luis. Unfortunately we did not tell him the truth and made up a story. But thats another tale. But the lesson learnt, which I already knew: Be Honest.
So we caught the bus to Bolivia and to a very different country and new adventures.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
More bus time
So much to do, so little time and no real clue. Having admired Iguazu we pondered what next do and came to a group decison to head to NW Argentina and slowly up to Bolivia. We broke our journey into two trip and spent another night on the road to Resistencia. This time there was no VIP bed luxury just a freezing, uncomfortable 14 hour bus journey. At 5 in the morning we were dropped by a random petrol station still half asleep and not even knowing if we were in the right place. With no buses for a day we were to stay in Resistencia. Since it was as hot as the sun in the city and there were no swimming pools we decided to head to Isla del Cerrito which we had been promised had beaches alongside the river.
Isla del Cerrito turned out to be a small island with a subtropcial climate running along the Rio Parana. The island which was an old leper colony and now has a small hotel, some holiday apartments and housing for local people. Apart from the leprosy it is famous for its annual Dorado Fishing Championship. Stepping out from the taxi the island appeared to be a tranquil paradise. The river, chirping birds, the odd fish jumping out of the water. Unknown to us, although it now seems obvious, so much water brings mosquitos. We were eaten alive in seconds and with the beaches washed away by the high tide we had nowhere to go. Desperate measures were needed and we blagged our way into the only hotel, which to our luck had a swimming pool. We spent ther remaining hours drinking beer, pretending to be guests and taking the odd dip in the pool. We were driven home in a mini bus by a slightly mad driver. Upon overtaking, which he seemed to think was a good idea with so much dust that he we could not see more than two metres and on a blind corner he would kiss the cross on his necklace and touch the sticker of Jesus on the car window. It was all a little surreal which helped to deal with his dangerous driving.
The rest of the time spent in Resistencia was nice. Nothing much to the city but I enjoyed seeing people go about there daily lives. Young couples kissing in the park at night, a parade of cowboys through the town square and stalls cleaning push bikes.
Another overnight bus journey and we arrived in Tucuman. Again, not wishing to hang aroung we caught a bus to Tafi Del Valle. The journey was beautfil, weaving through steep lush green valleys, waterfalls aplenty and slowly climbing to 3500m. We shared the journey with a nice group of young guys who were on their way to play footbal in Tafi. I have no idea how they manage at this altitude as I found it difficult even to walk at a good pace. We spent a day in Tafi walking the hills and admiring the beautiful countryside. With hills up to 4500m we at last felt as if we were on our way to the mountains. During our time here the first signs that three was a crowd appeared. I begun to feal uncomfrotable travelling with Luis which would eventually lead to us parting ways.
With Luis and Angel eager to move on we caught a bus to Cafayate and then to Salta. I would have been keen to stay more time in Tafi but I also believe in a democracy and I was outvoted. Even though we spent more time in a bus the scenery was fantastic. We left Tafi and travelled through the high antiplano eventually dropping down into dry, barn valleys. We picked up workers and schoolchildren on the way and it became very much more noticable the appearance of people with indigenous roots. The schools that we passed were so isolated they had solar electric panels- a thought for future work maybe.
Our trip continued to Salta through amazing Quebrada scenery. As I´m feeling a little lazy I´ll let the photos do the talking. We arrived in Salta where we would be for five days and we would go on the Tren de los Nubes (Train into the Clouds).
When I get a little more time I´ll write it all up. Thanks to everybody who has written. Lots of love
Alexis
Isla del Cerrito turned out to be a small island with a subtropcial climate running along the Rio Parana. The island which was an old leper colony and now has a small hotel, some holiday apartments and housing for local people. Apart from the leprosy it is famous for its annual Dorado Fishing Championship. Stepping out from the taxi the island appeared to be a tranquil paradise. The river, chirping birds, the odd fish jumping out of the water. Unknown to us, although it now seems obvious, so much water brings mosquitos. We were eaten alive in seconds and with the beaches washed away by the high tide we had nowhere to go. Desperate measures were needed and we blagged our way into the only hotel, which to our luck had a swimming pool. We spent ther remaining hours drinking beer, pretending to be guests and taking the odd dip in the pool. We were driven home in a mini bus by a slightly mad driver. Upon overtaking, which he seemed to think was a good idea with so much dust that he we could not see more than two metres and on a blind corner he would kiss the cross on his necklace and touch the sticker of Jesus on the car window. It was all a little surreal which helped to deal with his dangerous driving.
The rest of the time spent in Resistencia was nice. Nothing much to the city but I enjoyed seeing people go about there daily lives. Young couples kissing in the park at night, a parade of cowboys through the town square and stalls cleaning push bikes.
Another overnight bus journey and we arrived in Tucuman. Again, not wishing to hang aroung we caught a bus to Tafi Del Valle. The journey was beautfil, weaving through steep lush green valleys, waterfalls aplenty and slowly climbing to 3500m. We shared the journey with a nice group of young guys who were on their way to play footbal in Tafi. I have no idea how they manage at this altitude as I found it difficult even to walk at a good pace. We spent a day in Tafi walking the hills and admiring the beautiful countryside. With hills up to 4500m we at last felt as if we were on our way to the mountains. During our time here the first signs that three was a crowd appeared. I begun to feal uncomfrotable travelling with Luis which would eventually lead to us parting ways.
With Luis and Angel eager to move on we caught a bus to Cafayate and then to Salta. I would have been keen to stay more time in Tafi but I also believe in a democracy and I was outvoted. Even though we spent more time in a bus the scenery was fantastic. We left Tafi and travelled through the high antiplano eventually dropping down into dry, barn valleys. We picked up workers and schoolchildren on the way and it became very much more noticable the appearance of people with indigenous roots. The schools that we passed were so isolated they had solar electric panels- a thought for future work maybe.
Our trip continued to Salta through amazing Quebrada scenery. As I´m feeling a little lazy I´ll let the photos do the talking. We arrived in Salta where we would be for five days and we would go on the Tren de los Nubes (Train into the Clouds).
When I get a little more time I´ll write it all up. Thanks to everybody who has written. Lots of love
Alexis
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Up, up and Iguazu
For photos http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
Right then, let me just check that map again. Oh yes, Argentina is immense. After a 16 hour trip from Buenos Aires we arrived in Puerto Iguazu where we wanted to visit the Iguazu Falls: UNESCO site, all out amazing natural wonder. I had always wondered if the hype surrounding such famous places well founded and was thankful to find out that they place was as beautiful and amazing as I had been told.
Iguazu sits on the banks of the Parana and Iguazu rivers. From the outskirts of the village we could see where the two rivers joined and from our Argentinian side we could see Paraguay and Brazil, both had steep banks covered in dense green vegetation. Before arriving there had been a weeks rain and the rivers were rising. By the end of our three days there the river would have risen 15m and washed away one of the riverside bars where we had had a couple of beers ealier that day.
Considering the town sits right next to a world famous attraction it retained a relaxed feel. Our little hostel had a pool which was very welcome. We visited both the Argentinian side and the Brazilian. Words really would have trouble doing justice to the place and even the photos cannot convey the beauty and the power of the water. In some senses we were lucky and unlucky. Due to the rain big parts of the Argentinian walkway were underwater and we couldnt get to the most exciting Garganta del Diablo (Devil´s Throat). On the plus side it was the biggest flood in 20 years and the water coming down the waterfalls was unbelievable. The chocolate milkshake like water crashed down under its own weight exploding and leaving a mist for tens of metres around the falls. We were left thinking what it must be like to go down one of the falls........It could only be like surfing and wiping out at Jaws, or possibly even worse.
The Brazilian side was more like a theme park than a Nacional Park. Taxis and buses bringing people in, restaurants and other things to spend your money on. We splashed out and went on a tour of the sub-tropical forest and then on a speedboat which took us close to the falls. Going upstream against a 60m wide rushing, bubbling, gurgling river was quite something. The skipper was obvioulsy a man of experince and guided us up safely with a bit of fun thrown in. As for the falls, they were equally as spectacular from the water. On three ocassions we moved close to one of the falls and were blinded by the spray. I don´t know why but I just giggled and laughed for the whole time.
Ripped off by the scam men
Even writing this a few days after it happening, the scam still hurts me, makes me feel naive and also angry. On one of our days in Iguazu we visited Cuidad del Este in Paraguay. The city lies on the border of Brazil and Paraguay and is a tax free haven with plentiful cheap electronic goods. As I had forgot my camera in Wales I thought I could pick something up. On entering the city we knew we were in a different world. Big 20 storey high buildings, taxi drivers srambling for passengers, street venders selling a range of cakes, empanadas, dodgy looking money exchangers and security guards with shot guns on shop doorsteps. Road rules were flouted and at one point our bus driver reversed 30 metres into a four way junction blocking of all the lanes. I could only laugh.
Our idea was to look at bus journeys crossing Paraguay to the capital Asuncion. We knew little of the country and thought that I would be nice to visit somewhere off the beaten track. After checking out the bus times we caught a local bus back into the centre. The bus was beautiful: the front and back door were left open, wooden floor, blaring music and small Paraguyan coloured curtains covering the interior. Travelling through the city we saw scrubs of land with makeshift homes of wood and plastic which looked like they wouldn´t withstand the next rainfall. Whole families of natives appeard to live in the single three by three metre structres and in one of the fields there must have been at least 50 families.
In the second shop that I visited I began to barter with the salesman. We arrived at an agreement for the camera and a memory card. As I went to pay at the desk I saw in the corner of my eye the saleman pick up the camera and put it behind the desk. Immediately my stomach turned and my heart skipped a beat. I knew something was up. The salesman started trying to convincve me that the camera was not that fantastic and that I should change it for another. Suddenly another salesman tried to take the camera box away. The fucking bastards, it was a scam. I continued trying to talk with the salesman but to no avail, I thought that I would leave the shop without a camera or at worst nothing in the wallet. Suddenly Angel ripped the camera out of the salesman´s hands, Luis grabbed the box and we legged it out of the shop hastily weaving through the busy streets. We left with the camera but no memory card.
So lessons learnt:
Before handing over any money, make sure the products are in your hand (OK, this is a little paranoid)
Go with gut instincts. The first shop appeared genuine and just gave me the price without attempting to haggle.
After our little experience we decided not to travel through Pa.raguay the next day. Looking back it felt like the right thing to do but am sure we missed out on some wonderful experiences in Paraguay.
Right then, let me just check that map again. Oh yes, Argentina is immense. After a 16 hour trip from Buenos Aires we arrived in Puerto Iguazu where we wanted to visit the Iguazu Falls: UNESCO site, all out amazing natural wonder. I had always wondered if the hype surrounding such famous places well founded and was thankful to find out that they place was as beautiful and amazing as I had been told.
Iguazu sits on the banks of the Parana and Iguazu rivers. From the outskirts of the village we could see where the two rivers joined and from our Argentinian side we could see Paraguay and Brazil, both had steep banks covered in dense green vegetation. Before arriving there had been a weeks rain and the rivers were rising. By the end of our three days there the river would have risen 15m and washed away one of the riverside bars where we had had a couple of beers ealier that day.
Considering the town sits right next to a world famous attraction it retained a relaxed feel. Our little hostel had a pool which was very welcome. We visited both the Argentinian side and the Brazilian. Words really would have trouble doing justice to the place and even the photos cannot convey the beauty and the power of the water. In some senses we were lucky and unlucky. Due to the rain big parts of the Argentinian walkway were underwater and we couldnt get to the most exciting Garganta del Diablo (Devil´s Throat). On the plus side it was the biggest flood in 20 years and the water coming down the waterfalls was unbelievable. The chocolate milkshake like water crashed down under its own weight exploding and leaving a mist for tens of metres around the falls. We were left thinking what it must be like to go down one of the falls........It could only be like surfing and wiping out at Jaws, or possibly even worse.
The Brazilian side was more like a theme park than a Nacional Park. Taxis and buses bringing people in, restaurants and other things to spend your money on. We splashed out and went on a tour of the sub-tropical forest and then on a speedboat which took us close to the falls. Going upstream against a 60m wide rushing, bubbling, gurgling river was quite something. The skipper was obvioulsy a man of experince and guided us up safely with a bit of fun thrown in. As for the falls, they were equally as spectacular from the water. On three ocassions we moved close to one of the falls and were blinded by the spray. I don´t know why but I just giggled and laughed for the whole time.
Ripped off by the scam men
Even writing this a few days after it happening, the scam still hurts me, makes me feel naive and also angry. On one of our days in Iguazu we visited Cuidad del Este in Paraguay. The city lies on the border of Brazil and Paraguay and is a tax free haven with plentiful cheap electronic goods. As I had forgot my camera in Wales I thought I could pick something up. On entering the city we knew we were in a different world. Big 20 storey high buildings, taxi drivers srambling for passengers, street venders selling a range of cakes, empanadas, dodgy looking money exchangers and security guards with shot guns on shop doorsteps. Road rules were flouted and at one point our bus driver reversed 30 metres into a four way junction blocking of all the lanes. I could only laugh.
Our idea was to look at bus journeys crossing Paraguay to the capital Asuncion. We knew little of the country and thought that I would be nice to visit somewhere off the beaten track. After checking out the bus times we caught a local bus back into the centre. The bus was beautiful: the front and back door were left open, wooden floor, blaring music and small Paraguyan coloured curtains covering the interior. Travelling through the city we saw scrubs of land with makeshift homes of wood and plastic which looked like they wouldn´t withstand the next rainfall. Whole families of natives appeard to live in the single three by three metre structres and in one of the fields there must have been at least 50 families.
In the second shop that I visited I began to barter with the salesman. We arrived at an agreement for the camera and a memory card. As I went to pay at the desk I saw in the corner of my eye the saleman pick up the camera and put it behind the desk. Immediately my stomach turned and my heart skipped a beat. I knew something was up. The salesman started trying to convincve me that the camera was not that fantastic and that I should change it for another. Suddenly another salesman tried to take the camera box away. The fucking bastards, it was a scam. I continued trying to talk with the salesman but to no avail, I thought that I would leave the shop without a camera or at worst nothing in the wallet. Suddenly Angel ripped the camera out of the salesman´s hands, Luis grabbed the box and we legged it out of the shop hastily weaving through the busy streets. We left with the camera but no memory card.
So lessons learnt:
Before handing over any money, make sure the products are in your hand (OK, this is a little paranoid)
Go with gut instincts. The first shop appeared genuine and just gave me the price without attempting to haggle.
After our little experience we decided not to travel through Pa.raguay the next day. Looking back it felt like the right thing to do but am sure we missed out on some wonderful experiences in Paraguay.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Fotos- http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
Bit of a struggle getting the fotos on this site so check out:
http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Buenos Aires - not two but three
Stepping off a plane into a new country after almost a day travelling is a strange sensation. Especially when its 20 degrees warmer and people are speaking a different language. From the plane and from inside the bus it became obvious that Buenos Aires was as hectic as it was immense. There were no lane markings on the road and what appeared to fit two vehicles, fitted four. Dangerous overtaking was the norm which took some getting used to in streets that are 12 lanes wide.I met Angel in La Plaza de Mayo. To my suprise his friend Luis was there as well. It turned out that Luis heard about our journey a day before and bought a ticket that same day. So now we are three.
The city had a Friday afternoon buzz that is common almost everywhere. Even though I was tired we had to go out and see the city. We headed to San Telmo, a funky little area with some nice bars and a little Plaza with people drinking in the streets. The Porteños (BA loc
als) have the custom of sharing and drinking litre bottles of Quilmes larger. Not really having a clue where to go we just walked arouns asking people and going into bars that looked fun.
Saturday, with a slight hangover we wondered around La Recoleta, a barrio which is famous for its cemetary where Eva Peron is buried. It also has a great artesan market, a massive metal moving flower: Floralis Generica, which opens and closes and a great buzz about the place. A common site that day was of groups of people sitting in cirlces, listening to the busker whilst
The city had a Friday afternoon buzz that is common almost everywhere. Even though I was tired we had to go out and see the city. We headed to San Telmo, a funky little area with some nice bars and a little Plaza with people drinking in the streets. The Porteños (BA loc
als) have the custom of sharing and drinking litre bottles of Quilmes larger. Not really having a clue where to go we just walked arouns asking people and going into bars that looked fun.Saturday, with a slight hangover we wondered around La Recoleta, a barrio which is famous for its cemetary where Eva Peron is buried. It also has a great artesan market, a massive metal moving flower: Floralis Generica, which opens and closes and a great buzz about the place. A common site that day was of groups of people sitting in cirlces, listening to the busker whilst
sharing mate tea. Infact, the Argentines like the tea so
Luis and I at the Floralis Generica much they carry around flasks of warm water and top up whilst walking around the city.
On Sunday we headed to Boca, the dockside neirbourghood known for its colourful main street, being the home of Boca Juniors football team and Maradona´s home. Walking down the street we admired the beautifully coloured houses made of wood with tin roofs. Being Sunday the street was jammed with tango shows, Maradona impersonators, dogs dressed in football kits and market stalls selling football shirts, artesan products and photos with tango dancers. By luck we found a little courtyard on a side street, where some locals had big lumps of meet cooking on the barbie. We hung and chatted with them, drinking beers and feeling that our money was well spent here, rather than on the tourist places. Before leaving we walked out of the tourist area and down towards the Boca staduim. Wild dogs, burnt out cars and tough looking locals re-asserted the view that this was a tough neigborhood. We were lucky enough to see Boca fans queing up three hours before the game started. For such a small group of 50 there was plenty of noise and atmosphere. It was a shame not to have been able to get to the game, which would
On Sunday we headed to Boca, the dockside neirbourghood known for its colourful main street, being the home of Boca Juniors football team and Maradona´s home. Walking down the street we admired the beautifully coloured houses made of wood with tin roofs. Being Sunday the street was jammed with tango shows, Maradona impersonators, dogs dressed in football kits and market stalls selling football shirts, artesan products and photos with tango dancers. By luck we found a little courtyard on a side street, where some locals had big lumps of meet cooking on the barbie. We hung and chatted with them, drinking beers and feeling that our money was well spent here, rather than on the tourist places. Before leaving we walked out of the tourist area and down towards the Boca staduim. Wild dogs, burnt out cars and tough looking locals re-asserted the view that this was a tough neigborhood. We were lucky enough to see Boca fans queing up three hours before the game started. For such a small group of 50 there was plenty of noise and atmosphere. It was a shame not to have been able to get to the game, which would
have been a 
great if slightly imtimidatying experience.
great if slightly imtimidatying experience. 
Tango show in El Caminato Hanging in La Boca
That night we caught the super cama bus North to Iguza Falls on the border with Brazil and Paraguay. Our two days on Buenos Aires had flown by and I left with thinking how well everybody had treated us (apart from the odd person who charged us foreiners prices-I´ll try and get used to it.)
Sunday, October 19, 2008
So here I am..
Finally I get round to doing a blog! Who knows how it will turn out but if it's a means of letting you know that I'm still here and travelling then it must be a good thing.
I've been in Calgary since
Thursday last week and I' still trying to get over that reality that it's 11pm here but 6am back home. Thankfully this is not a real worry and have been enjoying myself immensely here. It has been eight years since I was last here and I am overdue spending some time with my uncle Alun, my aunt Patricia and my four great cousins: Pete (who's actually in Quebec), Glyn, Cathy and Stephen. I'm glad to say that it feels like little time has past but I can't help feel that it would have been made all the better if I had kept in touch.
I've been in Calgary since
Thursday last week and I' still trying to get over that reality that it's 11pm here but 6am back home. Thankfully this is not a real worry and have been enjoying myself immensely here. It has been eight years since I was last here and I am overdue spending some time with my uncle Alun, my aunt Patricia and my four great cousins: Pete (who's actually in Quebec), Glyn, Cathy and Stephen. I'm glad to say that it feels like little time has past but I can't help feel that it would have been made all the better if I had kept in touch.This last week I had a trial run at backpacking and travelling by myself. I went to the Rocky Mountains which start just 60km West from Calgary. After leaving the city on the Greyhound bus (yes, it felt exciting to be catching a bus from the famous company), the rolling hills begin and we passed some Native Indian Reservations. Even though the Indians have these reservations I'm not too sure if they are still being treated fairly and I'm sure that they have not been compensated for all of the harm done to them by the settlers and post governments. The mountains were impressive with snow covering all the peaks. Lower down fir, pine and spruce forests covered the valley floor.
I spent a couple of days in Banff which is a small, posh town nestled in the mountains. There wasn't too much too see in the town, except for the numerous Japanese tourists buying the most ridiculous things such a bear dolls, Canadian hockey shirts and other tack. All the action was in the mountains. I went for a big walk on my second day, climbing through the forests to 2700m. It was windy and cold at the peak of Sulphur mountain but the 360 degree view of the mountains was spectacular. At the end of the walk I treated myself a dip in the hot pools. My 20 minute sessions turned into longer and an hour later I stumbled out in need of a long sit down.
I then spent a couple of days in Lake Louise which I liked much more. Whilst everybody in Banff seemed to be pre-occupied with finding work for the ski season and generally looking too cool for school, the youth hostel in Lake Lousie was occupied by people looking for a taste of the outdoor. There I bumped into two Swiss girls who I had met in Banff and a Japanese couple with whom I'd shared a room with in Banff. I get the impression that this happens a lot when backpacking. The big attraction at Lake Louise, is unsurprisingly the lake which has an amazing turquoise colour which is a result of the glacier grinding of rock form the mountain and this glacial dust absorbing and reflecting light. The six glaciers at the valley head made the place into something spectacular. I went for another two days walking. What a shame I had no camera and no one with whom to share all the views and scenery. I did however bump into another walker who said to me: 'I'm so glad I'm here' and so was I.
I would have also appreciated some company in order to stay safe from the bears. Yes, the black bears and the grizzlies were still out gorging on berries trying to tuck away 35,000 calories a day. I had read that they were 
omnivores and I had no intention of providing the extra few thousand calories. So my tactic was to sing out loudly, yes it turned out to be a karaoke holiday and to speak out loudly as possible. It seemed to work as I didn't bump into one bear, but I must admit that I was in tension all the times I was in the mountains. Being a cheap skate I didn't buy the bear mase that I had been recommended. However, I did see some nice wildlife including red squirrels (which are now getting rarer) a whiskey jack and a white-tailed ptarmigan which changes its feathers to white in the winter.
omnivores and I had no intention of providing the extra few thousand calories. So my tactic was to sing out loudly, yes it turned out to be a karaoke holiday and to speak out loudly as possible. It seemed to work as I didn't bump into one bear, but I must admit that I was in tension all the times I was in the mountains. Being a cheap skate I didn't buy the bear mase that I had been recommended. However, I did see some nice wildlife including red squirrels (which are now getting rarer) a whiskey jack and a white-tailed ptarmigan which changes its feathers to white in the winter.As I made it back to Calgary on Friday evening Stephen dragged me out for a couple of beers which turned into a few more. In the morning we woke up to find a receipt saying we'd drunk 10 and 11 beers (bottles) respectively. We thought we'd been ripped off but since we couldn't remember..... Anyway we thought off it as a donation to the waitresses university fund.
So a few lessons I've learnt so far:
Patience-you will miss the bus and have to wait a few hours for the next one.
Patience-you will make friends in the youth hostel.
Always pay for each beer when you order it. Don't run up a tab!
Advice from my cousin Peter:
Mistakes are made because of what you don't know, not what you do.
Ask questions of yourself, not others.
Remember why you're going.
Writing this has been fun. If you've got to the end then I hope you've enjoyed it. Lots of love Alexis
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