I had booked my flight to Central Amercia and had a week left to spend in Ecuador. I dragged myself out of Montañitas with the town looking severly in need of a rest after the antics of New Years. I decided something completely different was needed and headed on an eight hour bus ride East into the mountains. One of my favourite aspects of travelling in Latin America is that many of the countries have a diversity in environment and climate that we do not have in Britain. Having left the hot, sweaty coast we rose slowly through windy roads into the foothills, hugging the valley sides and eventually into the dense green mountians. Having initially been a little offput by the large lady who kept falling asleep on my lap, I began to appreciate her company as the air temperature dropped. By nightfall my flip flops and shorts were inadequate for the climate of Baños.
I spent a very relaxing and enjoyable five days in Baños mostly consisting of walking, bike riding, thermal pools and steam rooms. Travelling for the first time by myself I was happy to meet some friendly and interesting room mates with whom to spend time. Baños is one of Ecuador´s prime tourist destinations for nationals and foreigners and quite rightly deserves to be so. The town is set in a valley with steep, dense mountian sides rising in all directions. There are two thermal pools in the town. My favourite was under the giant waterfall which I would visit at sunset. Diving to and from the 42 degree Celcius pool to the 8 degree celcius pool, was enough to get the body tingling and the head feeling very light. I also hope I felt the more traditional benefits such as inmproved circulation and digestion. Behind Baños is the active volcano Tungurahua(Throat of Fire in the indigenous language). Unfortunately during my days in Baños the peak was cloudy and I could not see the smoke or glow of lava at nightime. However, I was lucky enough to hear the rumble of the volcano and know that the Earth was alive.
The highlight of my time there was:
-Meeting José and our nightly chats on the street corner where he sold various hand made clothes. José in from a nearby indigenous tribe and was a great source of information on how life has changed for the local tribe. He also had a great cheeky smile and a wry laugh.
-Visiting the Pailon de Diablo waterfall. I cycled down on the five dollar (what a bargain) rented bike, on my way crossing the river valley on trolleys (see photos) eventually arriving at the entrance to the valley of Pailon de Diablo. A fourty minute walk to the valley floor and a quick scarmble to the waterfall. So there I stood underneath a 100m waterfall with the water plummeting violently down just in front of me. With no one else there I had a special few minutes getting extremely wet and enjoying my contact with Mother Earth.
On the Sat I caught a plane to Nicaragua via Panama where I have now been for two weeks. I´ll write more about Nicaragua later but so far my time has been fantastic. Great people, beautiful countryside and cheap to live.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
To the Coast
Angel wanted "un giro de 180 grados" to the trip, in English, "a 180 degree turn". So we decided to increase our carbon footprint and skip most of Peru in search of warm water, waves and a relaxing time. A taxi, two plane flights, a bus and a mototaxi and we arrived in Mancora, Peru´s prime coastal destination. We expected palm trees, hot humid weather and cocktails. To be honest we were slightly dissapointed as the coastline was dry, a little dull and the Trans-American highway ran through the village high street. However, we may have been slightly dissapointed but we were very happy to be on the beach. Arriving on our first evening, dropping the bags off in the hostel and running into the warm Pacific was like being born again. Anyone with an affinity with the sea may understand this. Things got better as I borrowed a surfboard and caught a few rides as the sun went down over the Pacific horizon. Also, I experienced something that had never happened to me in the water. Thousands of small fish were in the water and they would climb all over me as I paddled my board. Some even went for the ocsaional bite. This was a strange feeling which I got used to over the next few days.
We treated ourselves well in Mancora. The next day we upgraded to La Ola hotel with a patio right in front of the left hand point break. The location was great but shame about the owner, who we called el ogre (the ogre) because he crashed about and shouted every morning at 5am. On a positive note he got me up early to surf and to make the most of the empty waves. In the same hotel we met Eric (half Cuban-American) and Kashan (half Venezuelan-American) who would become part of our latin crew for our stay.
For the few days we spent in Mancora life was easy. Surf, surf, eat, drink and sleep. I couldn´t have asked for much more, especially since I was surfing in warm water. A quick note to all the surfers: I have never seen such a crazy-line up. Absolutely no rules whatsoever. Snakeing, drop-ins on every wave. I have no idea how there were no serious injuries. However, among all the madness I managed to squeeze a few waves, even some nice sized ones.
We had a good time but the vibe in and out of the water was heavily on the surfer cool side. Not really my scene and a few of the surfers kept a low profile and let their surfing do the talking.
Bye to Angel....for the whole trip
Eric and Kashan had a week left before they had to travel back to Miami and wanted to visit Montañitas in Ecuador. So it was decided that I would continue travelling with the boys whilst Angel took a side trip to see an ex-girlfriend in Brazil. We planned to meet up after a few days and spent Christmas together and carry on travelling. After three days Angel e-mailed me to tell me that he had re-fallen in love with his girlfriend and was going back with her to Spain for xmas. So there ended my travelling with Angel.
Montañitas
Ah, Montañitas. What was supposed to be a five day stay turned into three or so weeks. I dont really know how it happened but I just kept enjoying myself. Every day we had waves, although it did get desperate on some days, the water was warmer and the atmosphere was fantastic.
Montañitas is best described as a small, relaxed surfing town, with a hippy touch and with the ability to throw the occasional wild party. In contrast to Mancora the local surfers were really friendly and the vibe in the water was relaxed with people hooting each other into waves, laughing, encouraging and whistling in the way only the locals knew how to. The standard was pretty high and the local boys and girls flew in even the small waves.
I made good friends with Stefen, a Dutch surfer who loved to ride his longboard and sip a nightly Pislner beer. I also made friends with Eric and Rachel, a couple from the States; Anne and Andreas from Norway and a whole bunch of Brazilians. A few characters worth mentioning are:
Rogeiro- all round nice guy, Christian surfer, who designs his own boards and then rips the waves apart in such a smooth style
Ricardo-half Peruvian/half Brazilian shaper living in Rio de Janeiro, shapes the odd balsa board. Great personality, keen scammer of airline tickets and carried with him at least twenty Brazilian bikins (read, very small trianlges) to give away
Richard-local ceviche (seafood salad comprising of oysters, shell fish, white fish, peppers,onions lime and chilly.Delicious) man who would collect oysters to sell in his ceviche and would also spear fish.
Sandra - Ozzy traveller who came to Montañitas for one month, is now six weeks over and plans to stay for a few more.
Christian-15 year old kid from Guayaquil who ran away from home and lives in a hotel in Montañitas. Earns a living through odd jobs.
Bruce - very good aussie surfer. Loved his surf, beer and women.
The local surfer- mainly about five foot two. Dark skinned with beautiful long hair. Walked around topless, looking cool and whislting to everybody. Really friendly and introduced me to a great new handshake. They could also fit into the vulture category i.e many local guys hanging out around the foreign girls in an effort to impress. Very funny and quite effective.
New Years
Was one of the best New Years....ever. A new South swell arrived and the point began to fire. I surfed all New Years Eve and as the sun dropped, big and orange over the horizon I could hear trance music being pumped out from the speakers on the beach. On New Years Eve we were invited by the family with whom we were staying to participate in the burning of the doll. A papier mache doll which is burnt at New Years to rid off the bad experiences of the past year. With Jorge (one of the twelve children of the family) we ran into the sea and caught the first waves of the year. Stefen took out fireworks which we let off from his board whilst sipping from a bottle of local cane rum. Afterwards we had dinner with the family and we all felt so grateful to have been invited. We later drunk and dance salsa till 4am. The Latins putting on a show for the corpse like Westerners. We then wandered into town until the sun came up.
For the next three days the surf pumped and I surfed the beach every morning and evening. Up to head and a half, offshore with barrells, oh and few people in the water. By the first Monday of the New Year the waves had died and it was time to move on.
We treated ourselves well in Mancora. The next day we upgraded to La Ola hotel with a patio right in front of the left hand point break. The location was great but shame about the owner, who we called el ogre (the ogre) because he crashed about and shouted every morning at 5am. On a positive note he got me up early to surf and to make the most of the empty waves. In the same hotel we met Eric (half Cuban-American) and Kashan (half Venezuelan-American) who would become part of our latin crew for our stay.
For the few days we spent in Mancora life was easy. Surf, surf, eat, drink and sleep. I couldn´t have asked for much more, especially since I was surfing in warm water. A quick note to all the surfers: I have never seen such a crazy-line up. Absolutely no rules whatsoever. Snakeing, drop-ins on every wave. I have no idea how there were no serious injuries. However, among all the madness I managed to squeeze a few waves, even some nice sized ones.
We had a good time but the vibe in and out of the water was heavily on the surfer cool side. Not really my scene and a few of the surfers kept a low profile and let their surfing do the talking.
Bye to Angel....for the whole trip
Eric and Kashan had a week left before they had to travel back to Miami and wanted to visit Montañitas in Ecuador. So it was decided that I would continue travelling with the boys whilst Angel took a side trip to see an ex-girlfriend in Brazil. We planned to meet up after a few days and spent Christmas together and carry on travelling. After three days Angel e-mailed me to tell me that he had re-fallen in love with his girlfriend and was going back with her to Spain for xmas. So there ended my travelling with Angel.
Montañitas
Ah, Montañitas. What was supposed to be a five day stay turned into three or so weeks. I dont really know how it happened but I just kept enjoying myself. Every day we had waves, although it did get desperate on some days, the water was warmer and the atmosphere was fantastic.
Montañitas is best described as a small, relaxed surfing town, with a hippy touch and with the ability to throw the occasional wild party. In contrast to Mancora the local surfers were really friendly and the vibe in the water was relaxed with people hooting each other into waves, laughing, encouraging and whistling in the way only the locals knew how to. The standard was pretty high and the local boys and girls flew in even the small waves.
I made good friends with Stefen, a Dutch surfer who loved to ride his longboard and sip a nightly Pislner beer. I also made friends with Eric and Rachel, a couple from the States; Anne and Andreas from Norway and a whole bunch of Brazilians. A few characters worth mentioning are:
Rogeiro- all round nice guy, Christian surfer, who designs his own boards and then rips the waves apart in such a smooth style
Ricardo-half Peruvian/half Brazilian shaper living in Rio de Janeiro, shapes the odd balsa board. Great personality, keen scammer of airline tickets and carried with him at least twenty Brazilian bikins (read, very small trianlges) to give away
Richard-local ceviche (seafood salad comprising of oysters, shell fish, white fish, peppers,onions lime and chilly.Delicious) man who would collect oysters to sell in his ceviche and would also spear fish.
Sandra - Ozzy traveller who came to Montañitas for one month, is now six weeks over and plans to stay for a few more.
Christian-15 year old kid from Guayaquil who ran away from home and lives in a hotel in Montañitas. Earns a living through odd jobs.
Bruce - very good aussie surfer. Loved his surf, beer and women.
The local surfer- mainly about five foot two. Dark skinned with beautiful long hair. Walked around topless, looking cool and whislting to everybody. Really friendly and introduced me to a great new handshake. They could also fit into the vulture category i.e many local guys hanging out around the foreign girls in an effort to impress. Very funny and quite effective.
New Years
Was one of the best New Years....ever. A new South swell arrived and the point began to fire. I surfed all New Years Eve and as the sun dropped, big and orange over the horizon I could hear trance music being pumped out from the speakers on the beach. On New Years Eve we were invited by the family with whom we were staying to participate in the burning of the doll. A papier mache doll which is burnt at New Years to rid off the bad experiences of the past year. With Jorge (one of the twelve children of the family) we ran into the sea and caught the first waves of the year. Stefen took out fireworks which we let off from his board whilst sipping from a bottle of local cane rum. Afterwards we had dinner with the family and we all felt so grateful to have been invited. We later drunk and dance salsa till 4am. The Latins putting on a show for the corpse like Westerners. We then wandered into town until the sun came up.
For the next three days the surf pumped and I surfed the beach every morning and evening. Up to head and a half, offshore with barrells, oh and few people in the water. By the first Monday of the New Year the waves had died and it was time to move on.
Monday, January 12, 2009
No words but photos
Check them out: Mancora y Montañita
http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
Feliz Año Nuevo
Lots of Love x
http://picasaweb.google.com/alexisviaje
Feliz Año Nuevo
Lots of Love x
Friday, December 19, 2008
Machu Pichu
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.
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.
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.
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