Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Bolivia


[i]

From Cusco, Peru we headed into Bolivia on the luxury “DIRECT” bus to Copacabana. What direct means is this: the bus leaves at 10pm and drives directly to a fork in the road at some unknown location. Here a guy comes on the bus and shouts out ‘Copacabana’. Confused, four of us grab our belongings and follow him to a waiting minibus. Then we sit and wait. We find out we are waiting to fill the minibus with passengers from the next big “Direct” bus. It is 7am and I am quite desperate to pee. The luxury bus did not have a toilet like the ticket agent said it would and I have been holding it in for the last 5 hours. We ask our guy, Robinson, if we can go to the bathroom while we wait. He kindly asks at a local store. After using one of the contenders for ‘The world’s worst toilet’ we are then ambushed by the pushy owner to buy the contents of her store. Eating is the last thing our minds, but we buy a mango. Once back on the minibus, we reimburse Robinson since he had to pay for us to use the bathroom. We drive to the border where Tracy forks out $100 for being American. I glide into the country and wait with Robinson outside the immigration hut while she is being interrogated. Once she´s done we walk with Robinson until he hails down a local microbus which we crush into until we reach Copacabana. That´s what they mean by direct.

We decide upon arrival that the overcast weather is not ideal for a beach town and decide to hightail it to La Paz. We buy tickets for the special 1:30 pm tourist bus at a travel agent recommended by Robinson. Apparently it is better to wait and go on this bus because it is very comfortable, goes directly to the main bus station in the center of La Paz, and doesn’t stop to pick up passengers. We eat a delicious breakfast at La Cupola overlooking Lake Titicaca and stroll around town catching a local festival involving the blessing of cars. We arrive at the travel agent’s door at 1pm as planned but she doesn’t show up. At 1:25, scared we will miss the 1:30 bus altogether, we head over to the square where all the buses leave. Not quite sure what happened, but when we show our tickets, several people get involved, we end up getting different tickets and sitting on a bus which fills up to the brim. I ask someone if the bus goes to the central bus station. No, it arrives at the cemetery, a place the guidebooks warn you to avoid. This bus collects people all along the route, some of them sitting in the aisles. Suddenly the bus stops at the edge of the lake and everyone starts piling out. After a lot of confusion we deduced we had to take separate boats across the lake and meet up with the bus on the other side.
Finally, we arrive at the cemetery area in La Paz just as the sun is fading. We quickly take a taxi into the center of town and start looking for accommodation. Walking around in the dark breathing hard due to altitude (3,600m!), we quickly decided to just splash out and stay at Hotel Gloria for $43! We managed to catch some British drama on the cable tv from our pristine sheets after our free welcome pisco sour at the hotel bar. Aahhh!

[pt]

Okay, so ‘pt’ means ‘pretending to be tracy’ since she never wants to write the blog, and I don’t want to write the whole thing. Right now she’s watching a DVD with some people in the lounge downstairs at our guest house in La Paz. I really want to get caught up with the blog and tick that off so I feel all up to date. So I will just pretend to be Tracy writing:

Hey guys, Trace here. So, let’s see. We arrived in La Paz and decide to just hang for a few days. I was like totally excited to have the opportunity to search out a new place to do more laundry. I just don’t git why no one here cares about doin’ it right. I mean, it’s like they just show the clothes a basin of cold water and then randomly spray them with old granny talc smell so they appear to have been washed. They don’t separate dark from light clothes, (what’s with that!) so I have to separate them myself and then make Ingrid go to the Lavanderia separately from me with the darks. You have to trick ‘em, it’s the only way to get a decent wash. I dread to think what would happen if I trusted them with my New Zealand lambswool. Some things you just have to do yourself.

After a few days in La Paz we decided to go kick it in the jungle. I was ready for some animal action. So we fly to Rurrenabaque this cute little town only a couple hundred feet above sea level at the edge of the Madidi National Park. It like totally blew my mind how much the environment could change in a 45 minute flight. We left La Paz wearing our down jackets, puffing at the slightest exertion due to altitude and constantly applying lip balm to ward off dry chapped lips (Easy, Breezy, Cover Girl), yet when we arrive in Rurre on the little grass runway we are blasted with hot, humid, thick and sultry air. We met a real nice couple on the plane, Siobhan and Epi, from the UK and US respectively, and they happened to be going to the lodge we wanted to check out. After visiting the office in Rurre, we decided to go for it. The next morning the four of us were taken up the Beni and then Tuichi river for five hours to the Ecolodge Chalalan. We stopped at one point for lunch on a beachy part of the river where we like saw some kind of big snake. Unfortunately, as I was crouching intently and inching towards the snake to get a good look, I was unaware that my legs were being bitten alive by SANDBUGS. I don’t know if you guys out there have ever been bitten by these seemingly harmless-looking creatures, but if you haven’t, imagine being bitten by a mosquito 10 times on the same spot, well that’s what it feels like. The itching lasts for d…a…y…s!

Anyway, when we arrive at Chalalan after a brisk half hour walk from the river we are greeted with some bitchin' cold glasses of lemon grass juice and are shown to our jungle cabins. The location is quite idyllic, next to a beautiful lake. That afternoon our guide, Giovani, takes us on the first of many jungle hikes. It is sweaty, buggy and like totally uncomfortable, but Giovani knows his stuff. We see four types of monkeys, a few poisonous frogs, a mini possum, birds and other animaly stuff. A highlight for me was our night canoe trip out on the lake. It was so tranquil being out there in the dark with just the sound of the oars dipping into the water and the calls of the animals around us.

Chalalan totally screwed up with Epi and Siobhans reservations and so it was a bummer that they ended up leaving on the third day. We had a blast with them though. On our last day it was just me, Ing and Giovani. We hiked to a view point, telling him along the way that we didn’t want to stop. Giovani is a birder, bless him, and could quite happily spend 25 minutes in the same spot staring at foliage. Perhaps we could too in some other climate, but not when being bitten alive by mosquitos while your clothes stick to your hot itchy skin. We also decided to skip the full length hike to spend a little more time swimming in the lake. I mean, when you've seen one Capuccino monkey you've seen 'em all.
The last night was the Goodbye Dinner, which coincided with a Welcome Dinner for a bunch of new arrivals. We chewed coca leaves after thanking the gods and washed down the taste with some complimentary coconut-based alcohol. People were in high spirits and it could have been a long fun night. But then the compulsory boy-girl dancing to traditional pan flute music started. After both Ing and I danced with Giovani and another guide, we made our exit.

The next morning, after some miscommunication, (clearly not mine) we realize, after some precision questioning on my part, that the boat we were supposed to leave on might have already left! I hustle Ing into action and we sprint with full backpacks on a mile down the trail to the river, leaving Giovani “just wait a minute while I change my shoes, please” in the dust. Towards the end of the trail Ing hears a boat engine. So I start to make loud-pitched highly interesting animal sounds, thinking that the boat will stop in curiosity. We arrive at the river just after the boat has taken off, but one of the Chalalan guys at the river bank shouts for the boat to return. Phew! We arrive in Rurre early enough to get to the airline offices, but there are no spaces on any flights for 3 days. Fortunately, chillin in Rurre gives me the chance to catch up with some hi-priority laundry and wash the jungle out of my jeans. We spent the next couple of days scratching our bites, sampling the local cuisine and strolling round the friendly town.

We arrived back in La Paz and were fortunate enough to get our old room back at Arthy’s Guesthouse where we feel quite at home. So then, like two days ago we go for a mountain bike ride with Gravity Assisted. They take you up to the top of this totally high mountain and you cycle down ‘the most dangerous road in the world'. It's a wholenuther experience! You go from freezing to tropical in a matter of hours. It was truly exhilarating. Especially the last half which was unpaved and potentially dangerous. One young guy in our group broke his finger and cut himself up when he careened into the cliff and had to go to hospital. I think we all reduced our speed a little after seeing his bent finger and the shocked look on his face. Our group was really fun though and we had quite a few laughs despite being completely drenched and muddy. On top of all the rain there were a couple of points where we had to ride underneath waterfalls. Meals included, free beer and T shirt, lots of great exercise! Fantastic day. (Ingrid was really excellent; I wish I could cycle with her style and panache and I love how she wears her helmet!).

We thought we would stay a night in Coroico, however, the lodge where we showered and ate with our bike group after our ride had SANDBUGS, so we decided to go back to the cool of La Paz. There was no room at Arthy’s when we got back that night but Rueben, the owner, was kind enough to keep our heavier bags and take care of our wet shoes. We got a take out meal of cheese and spicy beef empanadas (pastry pie things) and checked into our old Hotel Gloria for a luxury night of cable tv and comfort. We made the most of our complimentary breakfast the next day and hung out in the room until one minute to check out at 1pm.

Today we went to the La Paz zoo and were lucky enough to get there for the 10 am feeding. We headed straight for the jaguars and lions and they went crazy when the big slabs of meat finally arrived. The zoo is a bit tattered but is great for animal and people watching and it had a really welcoming vibe. To top off an awesome day, we had the BEST meal in a long time: the vegetarian sampler at a Lebanese joint hidden upstairs off a street in the backpackers section. SO tasty! We are going there tomorrow night…

Total hasta luego amigos biatches!

[i]

I can’t believe it. This is LIVE, this is REAL time. Finally we are caught up with the blog! I just can't thank Tracy enough for all the effort she put in.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Peru


[i]

After much deliberation in Guatemala about where to go next, we finally decided to go straight to Peru. We landed in Lima, and stayed there long enough to appreciate the outdoor cafés in the posh part of the city and try the ceviche and Pisco Sours that Peru is famous for. From there we took the bus to Paracas, the "Porpoise Spit" of Peru (see film Murial’s Wedding), where we stayed at a massively overpriced and unfriendly hotel arranged by a tour operator in Lima, let´s call her Ms. CC (complete cow). Our conversation with the young and breezy Ms. CC (recommended by hotel) went something like this:

Ing and T: Buenos Dias. Habla usted Ingles?

Ms CC: Yes, just a leetle.

IT: Oh good, we’d like two one way tickets to Ica, please. Leaving tomorrow if possible.

Ms CC: I theenk this no problem. How many days you spend in Ica?

IT: Um, one or two I guess. We’d like to do the sand boarding we read about.

Ms CC: No problem, yes very fun. You will love it. I can recommend you very nice hotel. (That my cousin owns, right next to the highway, half an hour from where you want to be, the room he’ll give you has no windows and a shower that doesn’t work, all for 6 times normal price, plus you’ll have to rent a taxi to get to the sand boarding place, or if you’re completely gullible you’ll pay for my cousin’s ‘tour’ which will include the sand boarding, plus transportation at 10 times the actual cost.)

IT: Oh, that’s great. What’s the name of the hotel?

Ms CC: Don’t worry, I write everything down for you. Where you going after Ica?

IT: Em, we’re not sure yet, we’re heading to Cusco, what would you recommend?

Ms CC: (OMG, like you guys are just total idiots, chu-ching! When they leave I take break and buy those orange shoes!) Well, of course Nasca for seeing the Nasca lines by plane. Very interesting.

IT: Have you done the plane ride?

Ms CC: Not yet, but I really, really want to. It so mysterious and I have friends and other people who go and say the plane goes from side to side a lot and they say wow it like crazy experience.

IT: Hmmm.

Ms CC: You also like Paracas. I recommend. I there only one month and a half before. I recommend you stay at Paracas 2 nights. You be crazy to miss.


The first room in the Paracas hotel we were shown had no windows, and since we had already, stupidly, already paid four times the actual price to Ms. CC in Lima, we were stuck at this hotel, and the town, for two nights. We managed to change our room but although the new room had access to natural light, it was like sleeping inside an ashtray in a brothel (I imagine). Fortunately, the tour to the Ballestas Islands was really good. Lots of wild life, pelicans, seal colony etc. From there we headed to Ica, still part of the ‘tour’ we had paid for in Lima. Basically, Ms. CC had bought our bus tickets and hotels and tours in advance, overcharged us and pocketed the extra 80%. We still had to arrange and pay for the connecting taxi rides to and from the hotels and argue for breakfasts that were supposed to be included.

Fortunately, our next stop the Hotel Huacuchina, Ica, was not built on a highway overlooking a garbage dump or a sewage plant like we had feared, but was a fabulous hotel in a real desert oasis. We did a little bit of sand boarding and a buggy ride over the dunes and hung out by the pool. It was Really fun.

From there we went to Arequipa, a lovely old colonial city, where many of the buildings are made from white volcanic rock. We took a tour to the Colca Canyon which was quite spectacular. Saw condors in flight and had a great time in the picturesque little village of Chivay where the locals were very friendly.

 

[t]

Sitting atop the very friendly El Caminante Class inn in Arequipa, Peru, three rooftops over from the Santa Catalina convent and a few blocks away from the Plaza de Armas, I begin another episode of our journey. Ingrid sits in a lounge chair beside me reading the last few pages of her latest novel, weak from several days of serious bathroom issues, coupled with mild altitude sickness from a recent trip to the Colca Canyons at an elevation of 4,900 meters. Arequipa rests at 2,300 meters.

While waiting for my delicate flower to regain her strength, we decided to chill our heels here for a few days to catch up on things like laundry, the blog, and shopping. We had plans to leave early this morning for a small town on the border of Peru and Bolivia, but decided to forfeit our bus tickets and do the sensible thing. It’s a funny thing when Ingrid gets ill. While I will crawl into a fetal position at the slightest hint of an ailment, Ingrid may go on for days hemorrhaging internally without my knowledge. Even if I do know that something is wrong asking her questions like, “How do you feel?”, or “Are you okay?” won’t guarantee a very fruitful response. After 16 years I’ve learned that I must employ precision questioning tactics to get a feel for what is going on. Questions like, “On a scale of 1-10…”, or “Is it a dull pain like you’ve bumped into something made of rubber, or is more like being bitten by a shark?

Anyway, I am really quite happy to be in Arequipa a bit longer. It is so far my favorite Peruvian city and I can’t wait to explore it more over the next several days. The owners of our inn have been so sweet to us too. This morning one of the staff members asked if we wanted a better room, one with an attached bathroom for the same price because they “understood”. We both giggled as I graciously accepted and proceeded to move us into a beautiful room that opens up externally above the street and also internally onto a courtyard where breakfast is served every morning. It comes with a TV, hot water, and above all, is clean, a combination that is tough to find, even in the “good” hotels.

Checking into new hotels and hostels, or asking travel agencies and tour companies questions before making a decision is a tricky thing here in the developing world. One can never assume anything. And the amount of money that you are prepared to shell out doesn’t always correlate with the standard of accommodation, tour, or service you will receive. So, back to that precision questioning tactic, one must really think of ALL the questions beforehand. For example, we really wish we had asked some of the following questions:

- “Does the 7:30 bus leave at 10:30?”
- “Does the toilet in the room have a seat?”
- “What are the extras that we have to pay for in the “All inclusive tour”?
- “Does the lagoon we are going to visit have water in it?”
- “Were the ancient ruins you talk of built in 1989?”
- “Does the museum contain real works of interest or is it a bunch of shit banged up on the wall?”

After Arequipa we headed to Cusco for a couple of days before taking the train to Machu Picchu. The highlights were exploring the ruins and playing with the llamas, climbing tourist free Mount Putukusi across from Machu Picchu, and enjoying a fantastic meal at the French restaurant Indio Felize.

We are now in La Paz, Bolivia for a few days chilling out and figuring out what to do next. Keep the emails coming! We love hearing from you.