The day after parting with my GAP friends in La Paz, I woke up with a scratchy throat, but headed out to the small town of Copacabana, anyway. To get to Copacabana, all passengers and the bus must cross the Strait of Ticaina (sp), which connects the two major lakes of Lake Titicaca - the passengers on a small motorboat, and the bus on a bus-sized barge.

Since I was feeling sick, I decided to use my time in Copacabana to just relax, instead of going out to the islands, like most tourists do. The town lies along Lake Titicaca, and since the town is small and touristy, it is a better place than La Paz to recoup. My most active event was walking down the beach for 30 minutes, despite wind and runny nose. Otherwise, I enjoyed restaurants, a book, and time alone. I watched people walking up down the street - there is almost a rasta Spanish culture of bracelet weaver / artisan gringo / Latin mix people. !Todos bien, man! There is no shortage of Indian women to watch, who ALWAYS have a baby wrapped up in the colorful cloth-sacks on their backs. And the kids on the street are entertaining to watch as well. One group of 7 or 8 kids, on seeing me watching them started making faces at me through the restaurant window. I made funny faces back, to which a 6 year old boy responded with flipping me off. I pantomimed bad-boy finger shaking, and he flipped me off again.

Back in La Paz, with just enough time to rest! My head cold is lifting, my dirty clothes are getting washed, and my hiking pants which I untimely found out had a huge rip in the butt while I was walking down the street are getting mended.

I went to the Coca Museum today and learned that coca in itself is not bad - just about as bad as cocoa. There is a long relationship with coca and pre-Incas, and with coca and miners. The Catholic church originally deemed coca as diabolic, because it was used in Inca religious ceremonies. But when the Spaniards in Potosi realized how useful coca was to the silver miners (in the same way coffee is to workers elsewhere), they influenced the church to allow coca. The coca was controlled by the Spaniards, though, just as coca has been controlled by outsiders ever since. In industry for medicinal purposes, and for Coca-Cola, and now by those who are trying to eradicate it, as well as the mutli-billionaire cocaine industry. Coca was condemned by the UN around 1960 when a study came out saying that cocaine made people retarded. The museum didn{t quite delve into the war on drugs as much as I would have liked it to. But it did point out that the chemicals that are used to crystallize cocaine are imported into Bolivia from the US and Europe. And that 50% of cocaine that is produced is used by Americans.

I also did my final South America souvenir shopping in the witch market, which is also where all the tourists shops are. You have dead cats, dead llama fetuses, dried herbs, pachamama statues right next to... alapaca sweater! mucho colores! Pase, amiga!

Tomorrow, back to Lima!

Labels: bolivia, coca, copacabana, lapaz, witch

So there we were, in the middle of the salt flats, the jeep´s tires deeply grooved into the mud, the sun not far from setting. Roberto, the tour leader, driving on ¨Bolivia´s greatest highway¨, trail-blazing across the great salty expanse, had hit a patch of thin salted crust masking a bunch of mud. ¨Prepare yourself for walking,¨ he told us after an hour of attempts of coaxing the jeep from the mud. Matt, Pete, Roberto, the cook Livia from San Cristobal, and I took off walking, loaded with our backpacks that we were unwilling to part with.

We ended walking for 5.5 hours. Well after dark, after the Salt Hotel turned out their lights, after it had turned quite cold. Matt ended with a nasty blister on his foot, and we were all quite sore from the trek - an estimated 15 miles. But in the end, an adventure! Walking across the polygonal salt patterns, the solid salt, the muddy salt, the sinky salt, the dried mud that looked like an elephant´s skin, sandy ground with small scrub, and repeat! We could see the Southern Cross after dark, and a waxing full moon lit our way.

The salt flats are used by the locals (obviously) for their salt, which is mixed with iodine from Chile for export. The area was once a lake bottom, and several mountain islands are visible across the flats. One island we visited was covered by the a cactus that looked very much like a saguaro, and this island was regarded sacred by the Incas, who would make a pilgrimage across the flats with their llamas to leave offerings. Outside of the Salt Flats, the region is used primarily for growing quinoa and raising llama.

The second through fourth days of our jeep tour, we visited the desert regions outside of the Salt Flats. Dusty roads connected an amazing array of lakes, blue, white, green, and red lagoons - all the lakes, except the green lagoon, which is green due to arsenic, were homes to flamingoes. Some of the mountains in the region were so simple in shape and fauna that I thought they resemebled the simplified forms of CGI mountains in fantasy movies. Later, the mountains took on ochre, red, purple hues in the Dali desert, which was named for Salvador Dali, who was inspired by the region. We saw a hot spring and the steaming maw of a sulphurous volcanic area (similar to Lassen), all while weathering a biting, strong cold wind. At night we played cards, and ate on-demand meals from our cook. We visited a train graveyard; a pre-Incan graveyard, in which bodies were still visible inside the remains of old coral; several interesting rocky valleys / structures left over from lava flow and erosion; and an Incan fortress / rock hideout. Last, I saw the Chilean border, which apparently has land mines on the other side because the Chilean officials don´t want to man that border crossing.

We took the worst night bus back to La Paz. They intentionally oversold the seats, so all kinds of people were sleeping on the floor. But alas, I´m back in La Paz, the GAP tour has ended, and I am planning my next move. Probably spend a couple days in Copacabana at Lake Titicaca before heading back to Lima.

Labels: bolivia, hiking, incas, lapaz, rocks, salt, uyuni, volcano

From Sucre to Potosi, where 18 million indiginous people died over a few centuries, mining silver for the Spanish. We were picked up by a minute, dynamic woman - our tour guide in a rickety old van. The driver nearly bowled over pedestrians on the way to the mines.

We stopped first to buy some coca leaves, 96% pure alcohol, and crackers - all gifts for the miners. Apparently, the miners like to work for incredibly long hours (this is a good year for silver $$), and the coca both helps to keep them up, and to eliminate their appetites for food and water. Hmm. We also picked up some dynamite in the shop for our later use.

Up a very bumpy road to the mine entrance, where we were issued rubber boots, outer pants and a jacket, and a hard hat with headlamp (battery pack tied around the waste). Slog, slog into the muddy mine, walking along the track used for the mining carts. Low hanging wires and tubes, doorways, paths going up and down off to the left and the right. Every miner we met along the way, the leader would proffer gifts to (developing support for tourism). The air smelled of mud, gun powder, and sweat. We reached a cart full of dirt. The miners pull this stuff out, and then sort through it. These days, zinc is more commonly found in the ore. While standing around the cart, we heard a deep BOOM!! from the earth. Time to go! said our tour guide. Go! So the tour was cut short, but I didn´t mind getting out of there at all. Because with the heavy air, the dynamite exploding deeper down, and the nonchalant attitude toward explosions and tourists, I wasn´t too keen on hanging around anyway. Maybe the car ride to the mine had pre-queased me.

Out in the daylight again, the tour guide took us to a more remote, dusty area where she could demonstrate dynamite explosion. Green TNT, rolled into puddy, add a 2 minute fuse, some plastic, and some stuff that looked like styrofoam mini-popcorn, light the fuse, and now, Back to the van!! And BOOM! the explosion shakes the earth. I really hadn´t known what to expect in terms of force of it all. I was rather surprised.

So folks, this is where silver and zinc comes from! Tomorrow, a money minting factory.

Labels: bolivia, mining, potosi, silver

Sucre, the first stop on my Bolivian GAP tour, is a 40 minute flight from La Paz. This city, renowned for its white-washed architecture, is indeed whiter than what I had expected Arequipa to be (since Arequipa{s stonework is of white volcanic rock). Fittingly, though, the GAP leader Roberto is from Arequipa, and used to lead Colca Canyon tours. The other two on the trip are twenty year old Brits. So I might be spending a good bit of free time by myself.

Sucre is where the Spanish settled because, Potosi, where all the silver was, was too high. Some would work in Potosi, but their wives would live in luxurious houses in Sucre. Sucre was made a World Heritage site in the 90s.

I have to admit that I am having a hard time telling a difference between the various cultures in these South American countries. Roberto says that a different indiginous group is in Bolivia instead of the Quechua, but they dress the same, and still wear funny hats. He also says the people look a little bit different. He explained the 5 different ethnic classes of South America: white, mestizo, indian, and the a mix in between each of those 3. He said there are sub-groups within each category, but it sounds like the groups really are not that distinct anymore. He also explained how slavery was abolished in Peru around 1850, and a big influx of Chinese immigrants appeared shortly after, which is why there is a Chinatown in Lima.

Here is a pointless story: Today after a hike along a railroad through the country outside of Sucre, the four of us stopped in a dusty pit stop of a town. We were offered the local alcoholic drink of chica (homemade from maiz?) from Quichua women, but it looked dangerous. We opted to sit in a dive bar called El/La Mirador for a bit of beer instead. Four grumbly fellows were already there, sitting on the ground, talking in Quechua. Goats were grazing across the river. Sappy 80s music was playing. End of pointless story.

Tomorrow we go to the silver mining town of Potosi, where millions of indiginous and African slaves died over the centuries.

Labels: arequipa, bolivia, hiking, music, quechua, sucre

Three flights in 24 hours. From Arequipa to Lima, a mad dash to Take Care of Business in Lima. A call to my Dad on his birthday. Sort through luggage. Take a shower. Print out docs. Exciting stuff.

Flight from Lima to La Paz, Bolivia, which is the highest capital city in the world. The soccer league in South America has banned soccer matches at this elevation (4000 meters or so). I got in at 3am, and a taxi conducted me safely to my very luxurious hotel. Power hot shower, man! Can´t beat the shower and the warm, sweet smelling blankets.

In a few minutes I leave for flight number 3, with the GAP tour, to Sucre, Bolivia, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so should be quite more quaint than La Paz has proved to be so far.

And another important Three: only three tourists on my tour. With the guide, there will be 4. It´s two college aged looking boys. Hmm, we´ll see how this turns out. I guess Discover Bolivia is not as popular as Discover Colombia.

The important part of this is that as the only girl, I will always have my own room.

Labels: bolivia, gap, lapaz, peru

We learned on our guided trip to Colca Canyon that Peru has Everything. That is the word from the tour guide himself.

Driving in a government-issued, white 15 person van, we passed through a most arid Andes lowlands. The area was reminiscent of the bad lands, but with odd marshes interspersed. We saw a variety of camelids: llamas, alpacas, the protected vicuñas, as well as the great Andean geese. As we gained altitude, the region became more lush with grasses and low-lying scrub, but apparently we had passed the timberline a long time ago. Finally, we stopped at The Highest Peak, 4800 meters. (Higher than Mount Whitney, but a long shot from Mount McKinley.) There was a little hut of a toilet up there, that featured boards over a hole in the ground. We were informed that this was the highest toilet in the world. Ha. Mountain top (Incan?) spirtualists had left a field of stacked rock offerings, as far as the eye could see, adding to the otherwise Martian landscape.

The Colca Valley, which we descended into next, is most notable due to the highly terraced mountainsides. The Incan terraces cover the area, as well as a patchwork of stone-fenced pastures. Apparently, some of the pastures are so overly sub-divided that the farmers are unable to harvest large enough crops to procure decent prices for their produce. Anyone who is a farmer subsequently must diversify his source of income, since farming is inadequate.

The evening was spent in the small tourist town of Chivay, Peru, where a parade was in progress. This was rather a chaotic, whimsical parade though, for the assumption of Mary. The small brass band and group of tipsy, traditionally dressed Quichua dancers circled around the main square repetively, not always playing the same marching song, through the afternoon and well into the night. Most of the tour group relaxed in a nearby thermal pool, and enjoyed traditional folkloric dancing and music at dinner.

Today Peru-has-Everything revealed Colca Canyon, the second deepest canyon in the world, with Cotohausi Canyon in Peru being the deepest. Colca is 2x deeper than the Grand Canyon, but we only got to see a part that was 1200 meters deep. We were told the condors would show up around 9, and sure enough, they didn´t show up til nueve en punto. Soaring on thermal winds, they appear from deep in the canyon, and rise, sometimes flying right above the tourists, at which point there is a uniform, mad point and clicking of cameras - the quest for the ultimate photo of a condor.

We are back in Arequipa, and tomorrow the Galloways and I fly to Lima. The Galloway segment of this trip is just about over!

Tomorrow at midnight I fly to Bolivia to join a GAP tour there.

Labels: arequipa, canyon, chivay, colca, condors, dancing, parade, peru, tourists, wildlife

Tonight as I was lying on my bed in the Posada del Cacique of Arequipa, Peru, tiredly browsing through photos on my digicam, I felt my bed moving - perhaps it was just my mind reeling from my sleepiness. I disinterestedly thought Jason or Shane must have nudged the bed somehow. A gentle sway to and fro. Then I looked, and they were on the far side of the room. The bed was still swaying, and the water in our bottles rippled. An earthquake! A quake that was a 7.7 Richter in Lima, was a just confusing shift in the posada. A quickening of the heart, and excitement that the ground can move.

We arrived in Arequipa, city of 1 million - the City of White (but really of dingy gray volcanic rock architecture) - this morning at 6am, by bus cama (bus bed) from Cuzco. Although the ¨beds¨ were rather nice, I had gotten little sleep. I spent the day today fighting off weariness, as we ate crepes for breakfast, toured a humongous convent - the Santa Catalina Monastery - and went to spectate a parade of the city´s anniversary.

This latter event was a bit harrowing. Jason, Shan and I pushed our way through cleptomaniac crowds, tightly clutching our possessions. Jason pushed off a fellow who started to unzip his backpack. I kept my elbows at large, and my frame stiff, to keep people from shoving up too close to me. And we finally found a good spot from which to watch the spectacular parade. Incan outfits, farmer outfits, Mexicans and flamenco dancers, floats, marching bands - a very entertaining event!

We had arrived in Arequipa after spending an evening in Ollaytaytambo, after going to Machu Picchu. Machu Picchu was very remarkable, and a lot larger than I expected. I decided, though, that the element of discovery makes experiences so much more memorable. Machu Picchu looked just like the photos, and a million other tourists were there to witness this. However, when the 4 of us wandered off the beaten path, to the fringe of the terraced city, it felt like we were creating an adventure. Likewise, the salt pans near Urubamba had felt so unique because we had not been expecting any of it. So in Ollaytaytambo, when Shan and I went wandering up a nearby mountainside to run across some unguarded Incan ruins and a small bunch of billy goats, it seemed just as remarkable as wandering through the tourist-ridden Machu Picchu ruins.

Tomorrow, the Galloways and I are joining a 2 day tour to Colca Canyon, where the condors soar.

Labels: arequipa, bus, convent, cuzco, earthquake, parade, peru, thieves

machu picchu. very early morning. 30 minute bus ride up a windy dirt road. shops, entrance, paths into massive city of ruins. stairs and more stairs. beautiful sunrise playing off jagged mountains in distance. overwhelming number of tourists. watchman´s tower. ruined houses. 800 inhabitants lived here. temples 1, 2, and 3. alpacas in the courtyards. the huanu picchu trail was sold out. less frequented trail at fringe of the city. forbidden tuna sandwiches. sunshine and heat. hike to the inca bridge, through green forested trail. photo ops at top of the city. the end.

Labels: machu picchu, peru

Take a tiny, unassuming village, and add a train line carrying millions of tourists. Dump the tourists off in unassuming village, and what do you get? Aguas Caliente, Peru. The recently paved streets are lined with everything a tourist could need: hostels, internet cafes, laundry services, restaurants - all with the same menu, same prices, and same annoying menu hawker; grocery stores, souvenir shops. The town´s plaza does have a statue and a church, and I´d fathom that only the church existed before the town sprouted its tourist roots. All tourists, no character. But this is Machu Picchu´s base camp, so I suppose some little village had to suffer for it.

Tomorrow we wake up early to explore the ruins.

Labels: aguas caliente, galloways, peru, tourists

Today the Galloways and I headed to Urubamba, 2 hours away, by bus. This was the G´s first South American bus experience, and we happily were able to stand up for the first 30 minutes of the ride, because all the seats on the small bus were otherwise full.

From Urubamba we caught a taxi to Tarabamba (we like la la bambas...), 3 miles away, where a short walk through a small town and up a hill led us to one of the most unique views I´ve seen. The mountainside was covered with salt beds - from the distance it looked as if the terraced hillside had been inhabited and abandoned by some large fowl, that had left the hills white with guano. On getting closer, it looked like each mini-terrace, a small pool of water in itself, was lined with white icing. We were really looking at a most complex hillside wedding cake.

The pools of water proved to be shallow, and in various states of evaporation. They fill these tiny water beds with water from a salty water source, irrigated into the various beds. It takes a month for the water to dry, leaving a bed of salt to be collected. The massive city of salt beds and salt collectors truly belonged in Charlie´s Chocolate Factory - oompa loompas, in the form of Quechua indians, were carrying bags of salt, loading up donkeys, and sending them down the hill for market.

The salt beds stretched for quite a ways across the mountainside. We ran into a 9 or 10 year old boy named Lonnie Castro Mora who led us to the water source of the salt water - a small stream pouring out of a mountain wall. He told us that he attended school for an hour in the morning everyday, but otherwise carried bags of salt. (¨Very strong¨).

Next, we met Mario, a taxi driver, who offered to take us to the Moray ruins 10 miles away. Fortuitous! On the way he explained more about the salt beds. 5000 total beds, 3500 of them in use (minimize production to control the supply). They get 6 soles ($2) for 50 kg salt. Each salt bed produces 300kg per season. 400 families work in a cooperative, producing the salt. He said 90% of the people in the nearby towns were farmers though, and could not read and write.

Also, Mario cleared up that Quecha (said ketch-wa) people are thought to be descendants of Incas, although different indiginous groups will claim differently for their identity. (Some groups are pre-inca.) And another mystery: the Quecha bowler hats, that vary so greatly. Some of the women I´ve seen recently are wearing white top hats, half a foot tall. Others wear the dark bowler hats, while others wear yellow wide brimmed hats. Apparently these are indicators of what region the woman comes from.... Good to know.

Through a yellow country side, a dirt road, wheat fields, sheep herds, donkeys, cows, pigs, and herders, rugged mountains in the distance.

The ruins at Moray did not disappoint. A key shaped, terraced ampitheater, apparently used by the Incas for agriculture experiments. We circumnavigated the massive crop circles, and walked to the ampitheater´s center. The stone walls offered stone outcroppings as steps. The terraces were bigger than they seemed.

Tomorrow we go to Ollantaytambo to catch the train to Aguas Calienter, at the foot of Macchu Pichu.

Labels: galloways, incas, peru, quechua, ruins, salt, urabamba

Dingy, smoggy Lima has faded away with the arrival of the Galloways (sister, bro-in-law, his brother). The flight to Cuzco today offered amazing views of Andes - the view of the mountains is quite welcome! Lima's chaotic traffic, upscale touristy restaurants, and sad, outdated architechture are already almost forgotten. A peak at Cuzco has already proven to be so much more interesting. The Plaza de Armas alone is a large, beflowered, baroque church-lined square that feels quite welcoming. The weather here is pleasant, the sun is shining, and the narrow cobble stone streets, while a bit well-touristed, seem intriguing.

After obtaining our train tickets to Machu Pichu today, the four of us explored the Cathredal near the Plaza. I must say the gawdy interior decoration is almost offensive with its excessiveness - overly ornate gold frills on altars lined with mirrors, porcelain doll statues of historic/religious figures. A gold altar is eclipsed by a massive silver altar that is so bright and stage-like, I wouldn't be surprised if there were smoke machines installed. A picture of the Last Supper shows Jesus eating cuy (guinea pig) and chicha morada (a local purple corn drink). Wooden altars are lined by a variety of styles of paintings. Overall, it feels like a massive collage of confused artistic styles, and hardly very solemn. If a church could be carnival-istic, this one would be so, I think.

We are spending tomorrow in Cuzco, and then Shannon, our Planner, suggests visiting some of the smaller outlying towns before making it over to Machu Pichu on Sunday.

The great news is, of course, that Shannon brought me a slew of supplies from home, including a new camera!! So look for the photos to start flowing again. Just need to figure out how to get a underwater housing for this new camera before going to Fiji...

Labels: cuzco, galloways, lima, peru

My luxury bus last night was not so luxurious. I was apparently booked in the economy class, on the 2nd floor of a double decker. My kingdom was a dingy seat, with front row viewing of a bootlegged copy of Eragon with bad Spanish dubbing. (Seriously, I think have yet to see a legit copy of a movie on a South American bus.)

Here are some upcoming plans I am making from dreary, chilly Lima. (Once this is all set I will go explore the "social center" Miraflores district, which so far has seemed fairly upscale and overpriced. Oh - and good news - the hotel we booked is right next to a very nice super-walmart equivalent. Can restock adequately!)

Bolivia
GAP Bolivia Discovery Tour, 11 days, need sub-zero sleeping bag, rentable. !!! Tour to commence same day Shannon & co leave Peru.

Fiji
Awesome Fiji Tour, 7 days, hopefully bright and cheery, amongst the Yasawa Island Chain.

Australia
Aussie Bas Pass, good for 45 days, along the East Coast of Australia. I hope to follow the sunshine.

Shannon & co arrive Weds, hopefully with my laptop and a new camera. Can{t wait!!

Labels: australia, bolivia, fiji, lima, peru, weather

I was feeling a bit travel weary (that is bus-riding weary) today, so I went over to Chiclayo´s tiny airport to see what the possibilities were for flying to Lima. The overworked checkin attendant was a bit too busy to address a casual backpacker, so I waited and watched. It appeared I wasn´t the only one being shooed off by the attendant - a bulldog-looking, stout woman in suede was most doggedly persisting in speaking to the attendant. Shortly later, a gringo in a denim jacket with a bandana around his head sauntered in. I noticed first the Southern accent, and then his uncontrolled swaggering about, and then I heard a long line of expletives, addressed at a Latin woman who was with him. He had a beer can in hand, and was apparently upset that he couldn´t get a flight to Lima that night. A redneck in Peru! He was shouting at the clerks, gesticulating wildly, and trying to cut in on Bulldog woman´s space. I carefully avoided making eye contact with him, so he wouldn´t assume we spoke the same language.

Failing gettng a flight out tonight, which would have cost too much anyway, I am getting the mother of all buses out of Chiclayo. A night bus on the Flores line that costs $30 for the ride. (The typical buses cost $12 for the 12 hour ride.) This line serves dinner, breakfast, has a nice baño, and doesn´t make a million stops. I am feeling eager to get into a spot where I can stay for a few days. I think Shannon, my sister, has it planned so that when she, Jason (her husband), Shane (husband´s bro) come on Weds, we will only make 2 or 3 moves over the course of 10 days. There is supposed to be a long stretch of 5 or so days in Cuzco. I can handle that.

In the meantime, my adventures may not be too exciting while I madly hunt down a bank, my toiletries, and a new camera. My camera hunting adventures yesterday led to a mall that was featuring a Barney (like the purple dinosaur) show in the middle of the food court. A herd of kids in pink and purple jumpers (that is, sweaters) were spinning, singing and dancing along with the 3 dinosaurs and their teenage girl counterparts.

Labels: airport, bus, camera, chiclayo, people, peru

I´ve seen some surprising / shocking things since crossing into Peru yesterday. Fortunately the border crossing itself was not remarkable. (Low key border crossing is good.)

1. Two hogs hanging from the rafters of a hut, near the highway, in the moonlight. OK, this was actually still in Ecuador, seen from the before-dawn bus out of Vilcbamba.


2. A pregnant woman who looked like she was in her 50´s, carrying two chickens at the bus terminal in Piura. I´m not sure if she was planning on putting the chickens in the luggage storage under the bus, or carrying them in her lap on the bus. I lost sight of her at the busy terminal, but I believe she was riding my bus - the 6:15pm out of Piura.


3. Mototaxis in chaos - both in Piura and also in Chiclayo, where I ended up last night. Imagine a horse and carriage, and replace the horse with an electric bicycle. The carriage part is fairly compact, and generally constructed of a frame and tarp-like plastic. They are almost as numerous as the thousands of taxis on the order-less roads.


4. A rotund woman in a full-body pink spandex outfit, dressed up to the nines, apparently.


5. In the combis - shared van routes to small towns in the area - the driver paused at a stop on his route. The van was already completely full - I was sitting between the driver and the passenger side seat, in the temporary middle seat. The doors open, and hordes of people waiting outside rushed the van - truly it was like starving people fighting for the first food in weeks. They packed into that van with such pushing, shoving, cross words, vicious elbowing. It reminded me of that picture of 10 guys packed into a glass telephone booth. I was glad I was sitting in the front row away from the madness.


6. A hairless dog, which would not look so remarkable if it didn´t have a few tufts of long hair left on the very top of his head, and the tip of his tail. I steered clear of that one.


7. Chicken feet in my soup.


8. ¨The Neverending Story¨ theme song playing in a taxi, as he wildly negotiates the confused intersections. Note, this movie was the first favorite movie I remember having. Worlds collide.


9. Not so surprising, but certainly notable, are the ¨pyramids¨ in Tucume, outside of Chiclayo. They are as much of pyramids as giant ant hills would be (the mysterious giant leaf cutter ants from 1000 AD!) - an unsuspecting tourist might suspect that they are just big piles of dirt. Fortunately, from higher up on one of the Incan pyramids (which was built on top of the Layacambe pyramids there), you get a sense of the system in the excavations. Maybe those are courtyards, and maybe those are walls. Regardless, they say this excavation is big enough to rival Chan Chan, the as of yet biggest excavation in South America.

So far, Peru has not been impressive. Since the border crossing it has been flat, sandy (not unlike Phx), with low-lying scrub, dirty, and chaotic. The gringo trail has petered out, so it is easy to feel a bit overwhelmed. Fortunately I met up with an Aussie couple and a British couple, who have been travelling together, who were also headed to Chiclayo. I generally stuck with them yesterday, but have parted with them today. Their outspoken bad decisions eclipse my silent good decisions, so I think I´m better off traveling without them. (We rode around in circles in a taxi last night looking for a bad hotel. I was not too pleased with the construction noise, the cold shower, and the lack of a towel for the price I paid for my room.)

I´m hoping on finding a super market (most notably in the Super aspect) to stock up on toiletries. I do not see much appeal in Chiclayo otherwise, although it is supposed to have developed its own afro-latin style of music. (Where does one go to find this, safely?) Tomorrow I hope to make it down to the fishing town of Huanchaco, near Trujillo. And Monday, it´s a sprint south to Lima.

Labels: bus, chicken, chiclayo, dog, hog, mototaxi, peru, piura, pyramids, tucume

The city touting its long-lived denizens, small-town charm, and relaxing setting, Vilcabamba, which I keep saying as "Vilacabamba," is where I am at now. Presumably to relax. But the bus trip from Cuenca was not relaxing. A good deal of it I sat by an incredibly smelly Quechua washer woman and her coughing child. (They were sharing the aisle seat, but I was happy to have command of the window - the most important air ventilation device on the bus.)

Also, finding a place to stay in Vilcambamba was quite stressful. All over Cuenca I saw flyers for the famed Izchluyma Hosteria on the hill - free Internet!, free mineral water!, free use of bikes!, etc! - and I thought surely on a Tuesday, they will have an open room. Long story short, a taxi ride there yielded no free rooms, a taxi ride to an EcoLodge yielded no owner around. I had to walk back to town with my heavy bags, and as a last resort, booked a room at a hosteria where the same annoying music that plays on the bus was playing, and I was the only gringo there. Where are all the gringos, I angrily wondered!? My day in Cuenca had rendered little interaction with other English speakers, and I was wanting to meet some travellers!

So I found another place the same night, where 3 gringos lounging with a cat, in a "hidden" courtyard assured me that this was the place to stay. I am quite glad to have switched hotels, because I met an Australian couple taht night, and a very fluent Ecuadorian, and we had Good Conversation.

Vilcambamba is indeed a relaxing town though. A quiet square in the middle of the tiny town, little auto traffic; roosters crowing, birds chirping; dry, warm air with an ambitious wind blowing through; the smell of wood burning in the air. It seems like you could sit down, and be stuck there, because nothing wants to move too fast.

I joined the Aussies this morning in moving fast up the Mandango Trail - a 3 or 4 hour trek. A truly amazing hike through amber waves of grain, and along a severely steep mountain ridgeline. The path snaked up a hillside, along the bottom of an indecisive cliff. Part of the path was indeed on a razor's edge, with unforgiving fall-offs on either side. It peaked at what seemed like a pin's point, one high point with a 360 view, and very little moving room at the top. So high up, a mad crosswind would rip at you, and I only needed wings, to take a step and fly off the mountain.

The bad news is that just as we were cresting the first hill, my camera lens completely gave out on me. It takes only black photos, and no fiddling with the lens can fix it now. For a while I was only able to take completely zoomed in photos, but now that even isn't cooperating. I am hoping to get some photos from the Aussies, and to possibly buy a new camera in the next big city, 3 days away.

In the meantime, I am in Vilcabamba til Friday, and hopefully tomorrow I can relax some. Til then, more kabitzing with gringos in the hidden garden, which shouldn't warrant the need for more photos.

Labels: cuenca, ecuador, hiking, people, vilcabamba