La Gringa y Su Mochila

HOME!!!!

2009-07-17T19:53:00.004-05:00

Well, I've been home for about a week now, but the excitement has yet to wear off. Little things...getting text messages, jumping in my car to go where ever (and whenever) I please, running in shorts and a sports bra past three separate groups of construction workers and not getting a second glance (oh, it's so nice to be invisible again)...I just can't get enough of it. I've spent the last week at Laurel's house, trying to get my life back in order. I have spent a good amount of time on the phone with varying insurance companies and in my bank branch ironing a few things out. I'm enjoying hanging out with old friends and trying to get back in shape. Contrary to popular belief, climbing mountains doesn't do much for your aerobic fitness...

All said and done, I traveled for 180 days. Six months, exactly. I visited 8 countries (I'm not counting my 12 hours in Costa Rica) and 43 cities. Here are some end of trip stats:

Bus Rides: 45
Hours spent on Buses: 449.5 (18.72 days, 10.5% of my trip)
Flights: 8
Money Stolen (and returned): $2002.56
Passport Stamps: 32
Visitors: 6
Ounces Sunblock Used: 17.6
Ounces Shampoo Used: 5 (gross...that's only 3 mini travel bottles)

Some of you may remember my plan from my very first post. It was an efficient, complete circle of the continent. There is a a saying... If you want to make South America laugh, tell it your plans. I had the unique opportunity to practice boundless patience, for six straight months, dealing with the laid back manana, manana... culture Latin Americans so love. Despite my good intentions, here is what my itinerary actually looked like: a zig zagging, circle running, multi-leg mess.

Looking back on my trip, I had some of the toughest and most uncomfortable experiences of my life...but also some of the most exhilarating. New friends and and old (thank you to all my visitors, I'm not sure I could have done it without you) defined every city and country I visited. And as much as I enjoyed the wild-and-craziness of South America, I realized I really do love the good 'ol US of A.

It's good to go, and it sure is good to be home. :-D

A little R&R

2009-07-08T22:15:00.004-05:00

With my final days ticking away, I have been taking a little time to relax before heading home. While in Granada, I went out on a day trip to what I think is the nicest lake in Central America (as opposed to the largest, Lago Nicaragua). The lake is a volcanic crater, called Laguna Apoyo. Clear waters, a super steep lead in, and no motorized boats make this a very relaxing place to hang out. The hostel I visited had tubes, kayaks, and a floating dock to enjoy the sun, and plenty of hammocks and deck chairs to enjoy the shade.

Back in Granada, I treated myself to a massage and a cursory exploration of the city before heading to Managua. All I have planned for tomorrow is a trip to the market. Since I´m leaving tomorrow, I figured it just about time for me to start buying souveniers. :-)

Isla de Ometepe

2009-07-05T21:14:00.009-05:00

After leaving Angel in Panama, I got on the bus for San Jose, Costa Rica. I spent all of 12 hours in the capital, catching the 6am bus bound for Managua, Nicaragua. Thirty km past the frustratingly slow border crossing, I got off the bus in the teeny town of Rivas. From there, it was only a taxi ride and an hour or so on a boat until I was on Isla de Ometepe, a rather large volcanic island in the middle of Lago de Nicaragua, the biggest fresh water lake in Central America (while it is 1/7 the size of Lake Michigan, it´s still pretty big). Ometepe is formed by two volcanoes rising out of the water which are joined by an isthmus formed by lava flows.

My first full day on the island I spent climbing Volcan Conception, which is a nearly perfect conical volcano. I hired a guide and got a private tour up the mountain. After close to 2 hours of strenuous hiking, we reached the lookout point for a beautiful, sweeping view of...gray. Lots of gray. Turns out it´s just about always cloudy up there, especially in the rainy season (which is now). We were also treated to a good bit of gale force winds, which nearly blew me off the mountain a couple of times. Admitting defeat, we descended the mountain at a near run (it´s easier like that, I swear). We shaved a good 45 minutes off the usual hike time, since I was eager to get to the top as early as possible (hoping to miss the clouds), and just as eager to get back down. The wildlife on the trail was pretty cool, though. There were lots of howler monkeys (which sound like a mix between a T-Rex and a really big gorilla) and beautiful birds.

The second day I decided to tour the island by renting a dirt bike ($25 a day!). I had an awesome time with it, and ended up riding for about 10 hours. The roads on the island were abominable. There was one paved road, connecting the two major cities, but it only serviced one half of the island. The whole half of the island with the other volcano on it had terribly rutted, rock (and boulder) strewn dirt roads. It was slow and rough going, but a lot of fun. For about 5km I got to ride on a wind swept deserted beach. I then had the pleasure of getting stuck several times trying to get off the beach up the soft, sandy, hill (good thing dirt bikes are light!).

My first stop was to la Cascada de San Ramon, a waterfall that was a 3 km hike from an eco-reserve. Turns out there is a road that goes up the first two kilometers of the hike, and the owner invited me to take the bike up there. The "road" was some serious rough going. And I thought the island roads were bad. This thing had a super steep grade, loose rocks, and plants growing all over it. It was certainly a test of skill (and hey, I only laid the bike down once, that´s not too bad, eh?). As I was going up these hills I was thinking to myself (too late, of course), am I ever going to get back down this?? The 1km hike turned out to be a pretty tough one, and after losing my way a couple times I finally found the 35m waterfall. Taking stock of the situation, I was over an hour´s hike from any form of civilization, on an island, in the middle of Nicaragua, and was covered in sweat. So, I did the only reasonable thing: got naked and took a shower in the waterfall. Good thing those two large groups I passed on the way back down weren´t a little quicker...

The next stop was to see the Petroglyphs, 4000 year old remnants of the indiginous culture that once inhabited the island. When I finally found them, they were on a random farmer´s land, under his mango tree, and absolutely covered in mango splatters and bird poop. He was actually using one of the petroglyphs as a place to store his saddle, when not in use. Following the Petroglyphs was the Ojo de Agua (a volcano fed clear water spring), and the Punta de Jesus Maria (a narrow black sand peninsula that juts out into the lake), before returning to town. A full day of sight seeing, and I think I hit all the tourist points on the island.

Now I´m in Granada, realizing for the first time that only having 4 days of my trip left leaves some logistical challenges for fitting in about 6 days worth of sights before heading out.

Panamanian Highlands

2009-06-29T16:55:00.004-05:00

After some hang out and do nothing time on the San Blas islands, we set off for the Panamanian "mountains". Okay, Panamanian Mountain. The highest point is a lone volcano, a respectable 3,474 meters to the summit. From the top, you can see both the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans. But, we did not and will not climb Volcan Barú. We did, however, ride horses. In the rain. A lot of rain, with some lightning and thunder and a little bit of galloping through the mud. The weather here is really predictable. It rains every afternoon from 1pm to 6pm. However, we didn´t understand that fully until we had planned our little outing for the hours of 1pm to 6pm. Oh well, lessons learned. We rode our horses, got real wet, but had a good time. Even the bone chilling damp was forgotten when we took a dip in the hot springs. Hot springs, as usual, were down a 5 mile road, across a raging river (twice), through two construction sites, and on some guy´s property (who showed up carrying a machete and a pink umbrella). All in all, it was an enjoyable experience (where is the fun if you have no obstacles to overcome?).

A bit more hiking this morning (careful to avoid that rain, now, every day, 1pm...) and a lazy afternoon later, we are gearing up for our last day together tomorrow. (See picture to see Angel´s feelings on that subject.) Maybe she will perk up a bit drinking some of the world´s best coffee (Panamanian coffee from this region has been voted the best in the world, or so they say).

Panamanian Paradise

2009-06-26T10:26:00.007-05:00

Desitination one in Panama: San Blas Islands. Shortly after arriving in Panama City, Angel and I left on the early morning (5am) jeep to the other side of Panama, where we crossed the jungle on a bumpy single lane road, forded a 3 foot river (it reached the hood of the 4x4 truck, it was pretty high), and arrived at a insect infested little boat landing at a river. Onto the boat, up the river, which dumped out into the Caribbean ocean. After some faltering from the engine (uh oh!) we eventually picked up speed and headed out through the sprinkling of islands that were visible in the near and distant horizon. We pulled up to the dirtiest, most crowded island I could imagine, no beach in sight. Trying desperately to hold on to my determination to enter the islands with no expectations, I tried to look for a silver lining. Failing to find one at arriving at this floating dump, I was immensely relieved to learn we were just picking up some gas (hence the faltering engine). Whew! We cruised past beautiful, teeny little caribbean gems, white sand beaches ringing small stands of palm trees. As we came up to a particularly pretty little island with a few cabañas on it, I hoped we would stop. Sure enough, we soon beached on a stunning white sand beach.

Three days of lounging ensued. I read 500 pages, got a little tanner, did a fair bit of sleeping. Pretty relaxing, at least for me. I don´t think that the 4 out of 6 people in our group (Angel included) who got sick (food poisoning? Who knows..) thought it was exactly paradise. However, I think I might have gotten sea-fooded out a bit (one meal was literally buckets of lobster, king prawns, and giant crab). Back on main land now after 3 days on the islands. Today we are celebrating Angel´s birthday (July 8th) since she will be leaving before it, and I won´t be back in the states yet. Pedicures, baked goods, a nice dinner, and some Media y Media (a trick I learned in Argentina, half white wine and half champagne) should round out a nice last day in Panama City. Off to northern Panama to climb some mountains (hey, I didn´t get that pedicure for nothing), and then Angel and I will part ways...at least for a week or so. :-)

So here is the Island story, part II. Mariel has got part I down for you. :-)

San Blas: 378 islands strewn about the Caribbean side of Panama, near Colombia. At least 370 of them are covered in palm trees hanging lazily over the calm ocean. They are, as they sound, a backpackers dream. For $30/night one can have a private cabaña, eat lobster and huge crabs at prepared meals, and lay out on the beach all day long. Paradise. The Islands are owned by the Indigenous tribe Kuna Yala, which are dark brown people who average 5 feet tall, with great white straight teeth (at least most of them...) They sure do pretty well of their tourist visitors! The islands don´t have fresh water on them, so that gets boated in every day from the river on the mainland.

Mariel and I went to the Island that is meant for couples. It is quiet, good food, private cabanas. Pretty awesome. I guess we are pretty antisocial. However, we were antisocial with two other antisocial couples so I guess that makes us a big social group of antisocialites. I think we all slept about 14 hours a day, waking at 5:45 and napping most of the day which of course tired us out for the 8:30pm bedtime. Very relaxing.

And then here is why Mariel wanted me to write my own blog about this...I got pretty ill on the first night, then it kept going from there. Of the 6 of us, Mariel and another girl Jen were the only ones not to get sick. Nothing that can´t be cured by some good water and clean food, can´t heal. Good thing I´ve brought my cipro! I´m on the mend now and my birthday pedicure present from mariel is just the start to a wonderful day in Panama before we head off to Boquete to see some volcanos. Then its home for me in just a few days!

Cartagena...and More Mud

2009-06-19T17:49:00.005-05:00

Didn´t think this would happen, but even after 5 days of trekking (slipping, sliding, eating, climbing, and being absolutely positively covered) in it, we voluntarily (even paid money) wanted to get in a little more mud. Although the presentation was way cooler (a 26m tall, over 2000m deep vat of silky gray mud), the end effect was the same: I had mud in places I don´t want to think about, let alone mention.

Floating, sort of, since it´s not like you can swim in the stuff, was an eerie sensation. You could stand upright, suspended 2000m over who knows what below you, and still only be submerged to your chest. Moving was a communal effort, with one person grabbing a nearby structural pole and helping along the poor soul who got stuck in the middle. A nice dunk in a fluorescent green lagoon afterwards to get "clean" (until the thorough scrubbing in the real shower back at the hotel), and we were on our way, one mud volcano experience richer.

Shocked to realize I only have 2.5 weeks left of my trip... Tomorrow we fly to Panama. On to new and exciting things!

Into the Heart of the Jungle (Sort of....)

2009-06-17T06:42:00.020-05:00

Not traveling alone: not only do I not get bored, I don´t even have to update my own blog! Woohoo! Here is the rundown of the 5 day jungle trek we just got back from, from Angel´s perspective.

The Lost City trek: 5 days of slipping and sliding through mud, wading through rivers, and just generally tromping through the jungle. This seemed like a really good way to spend a good chunk of my vacation. We quickly figured out the routine: The mornings are an early riser at around 5:45 (at least for Mariel and I) and included a gigantic breakfast of either 3-5 cups of fruit or a 4 egg omlett with 1/2 cup of cheese (which I found out after a day of bumbly stomach) and 3 pieces of white toast (smothered in butter). This, of course, we were all ravenous for and ate up and asked for seconds. There was so much food the whole trek and wow did we eat a lot! Mornings were sunny and pleasant and it is when we did the most hiking. Every afternoon, however, at 3:30pm like clockwork the storms rolled in. Sometimes they lasted for two hours, sometimes for 10 hours. Pretty awesome feeling to sit in a hammock and watch the rain pelt the already soaked jungle floor knowing nothing is expected of you but to stumble over to the table when dinner is ready. One night I had to share that rain soaked experience with a mouse that decided to crawl over my head. It's not the best thing to wake up to a mouse in your hair at 1am....trust me.

Of course it was beautiful too! But like most beautiful things, very difficult to photograph. Being in the Jungle is like being in a busy subway but the people are trees and the trash on the ground are countless worker ants. The sound on the speaker announcing the next train is the buzz of mosquitos awaiting to attack if you weren´t lucky enough to remember repellent. I got a few good photos of the scenery, and even better photos of the military. Up until we reached the lost city, three days hike in, I had been slightly worried about all the military walking around Santa Marta and the rest of Columbia. They are slightly intimidating, and since I´m in columbia, very freaky when they are carrying a gun. Then we met the poor kids who are forced to join the military at 18 and were then put on a mountain in the jungle with no one to talk to. They looooved the gringos.

The lost city: Apparently this city was used by the Tairona people from 700AD-1400AD, when the Spanish came and wiped them all out with disease. The Spanish never made it up to the mountain (they were probably disuaded by the 2000 moss covered slippery oddly shaped steps that lead to the city) but the disease was spread through trade with other non-lost city dwelling Taironians. The place was gorgeous and apparently very rich. When someone discovered it in the late 20´s, the archeologists found a crap load of gold. Taironians didn´t believe gold to be a precious stone, so they just had it in their houses ready to be robbed 600 years down the road.

We were promised an english speaking guide, but in true south american fashion, the dude spoke really fast spanish and not a lick of english. His favorite things to say were "this is very complicated", "This is very important", "No problem! relax!" (that last one would be when Mariel and I were complaining about his lack of plan). It was an interesting group. One dude even walked the whole thing barefoot. I´m curious to see what types of infections he gets in the next weeks...gross!

Its been 10 days now in Columbia. Its a great country! I haven´t felt scared yet and the weather is awesome. Do I actually have to go back to work at the end of this?

Sister!

2009-06-10T17:20:00.011-05:00

Angel has finally made it (I´ve only been (anxiously) waiting for oh, a month and a half), and we decided to waste no time. I picked her up at the airport late Sunday night, and after a restful nights sleep, we headed out the following morning for a little paragliding. There is no way to see a city like flying 1000m above it. A bus took us up, up WAY up the mountainsides that surround Medellin to an altitude of 2600m (Medellin sits around 1400m). Paragliding is kind of like hang gliding, except it is a parachute/kite instead of a hard thing. The staging area was a semi flat grassy bit with a steep drop off down the mountain. I was up first. I strapped into the harness, which included a seat for the tandem rider, and they threw the schute in the air. CORRE!! CORRE!! CORRE!! Before I knew what was happening we were running at the edge (awkwardly, picture a potato sack race crossed with a three legged race) and then the edge dropped away and we were flying! Woohoo!! Didn´t take long before we were doing some aerobatics (swoops, dives, spins) with the cows and farms looking pretty teeny below us. After a 30 or so minute flight, my landing was an ungraceful plop onto my bum back at the staging area.

The following day we set about doing some proper sight seeing. Plazas, churches, cable cars, statues of fat people...Things Medellin is known for. A whirlwind two day tour of the big city and we headed up to the coast. We´re currently in my old ´hood of Taganga, setting out on the 5 day trek through the Jungle to Ciudad Perdida tomorrow morning. We really are wasting no time on this trip. Quite a change from my past month of doing...oh, nothing. A very welcome change, don´t get me wrong. Excited to have had a little time to travel with both my sisters :-).

Venturing Out

2009-06-03T10:31:00.014-05:00

After sitting around Medellin for close to 10 days doing close to nothing, I decided it was time to get out for a bit. My adventures started at Peñol, a really big rock about an hour and a half outside the city. There are upwards of 700 some steps that climb the rock, for a sweeping lookout over the surrounding area which has been flooded by a dam (hydroelectric plant) and now is populated with summer/weekend getaway homes for rich paises (Medellin citizens).

My next adventure happened kind of by accident. I had been contemplating heading out to the Zona Cafetera (the coffee growing region of Colombia) for some time, after hearing multiple reports of how beautiful it was. The night before I was thinking about heading out, a large group of University students from a college in that region came and stayed at the hostel for a night. They were on a field trip to visit companies in Medellin. Opportunity knocked, and I ended up catching a free bus ride out to Zona Cafetera the following night on the University bus. Arriving in Pereira (one of the access towns, not much fun for a tourist) at 1am, the professor and his wife generously invited me to stay at their house instead of at one of the rather expensive hotels. I gratefully accepted. They then told me that they were going to Santa Rosa (my destination) the following morning on business, and again invited me to tag along. After feeding me breakfast, we packed in the car and picked up a colleague. First stop was a random little pueblito (tiny, tiny town) up in the mountains where the professor had the business to take care of. The drive was beautiful, coffee plots stretching down the impossibly steep slopes. Around 2pm we finally arrived in Santa Rosa to pick up their son (currently staying at the grandma´s) and to drop me off. I was taken into his mother´s house and fed lunch without a bat of an eyelash, and an introduction so quick I think I missed it. No questions asked, a 4 course lunch and my many expressions of my deepest gratitude later, I was standing with my pack on my back in front of a hotel in Santa Rosa.

Santa Rosa is famous for its hot springs, which I must say, are some of the best I have been to. A steaming hot waterfall (two, actually, one for each main pool) cascades down a rock face and into the massive hot tubs, all carved out of the natural rock bed. In case you get too hot, you can jump in the 100m tall ice cold waterfall on the other end of the pool and sprint back over to the warm before you get too numb.

After about 5 hours of hanging out at the

pools with only two other people in the complex, I headed back to town. Caught a local bus back to Pereira, and hopped on the connecting bus to Salento. Salento is the home of the wax palm, which I´ve heard only exists in this specific region of Colombia. Headed out at 730am with a small group (randomly ran into someone I had met back in Taganga and had lost contact with) to embark on the 6 hour hike through the Valle de Cocora. A beautiful lush green valley curiously dotted with palm trees, who look confused and out of place on the mountainside. On the top of the trail is a small nature reserve that served delicious hot chocolate and happened to house over 8 different species of humming birds. (Grandma Bolhouse would have loved this place.)

I got in and got out of Salento, staying for one night and then taking the night bus back to Medellin. I´m settling back in for the last few days of waiting I have until Angel comes down. :-)

The City of Eternal Spring

2009-05-24T13:06:00.007-05:00

I´ve been in Medellin, so called La Ciudad de la Eternal Primavera (appropriately named, the warm breezes and occasional passing showers that water the abundant flowers are very springy), for about 4 days now. And honestly, I don´t have much to show for it. I have another 2 weeks until Angel flies in, so I am taking the sight seeing easy, trying to spread it out over as many days as I can. To my credit I have done some touristing every day. My method of attack is to explore one subway stop a day, which should occupy about 12 days. Granted, it is a bit tedious. The time I´m not being a subway vagrant or reading (luckily I found an awesome book exchange, whew!) I spend shuttling between my hostel´s wonderfully stocked, impeccably clean kitchen and the grocery store.

Today I took an expedition on the cable car system of the metro. One of the few (if not only) cable cars used for mass transit (and not for tourism, although just about everyone on there had their camera out), it connects the poor and once very derelict barrios that line the mountainsides that flank the city to the center. Not long ago, before the metrocable was built, these areas had the highest crime rates of the city (which is saying something, Medellin wasn´t the safest city anyway). The sidewalks are all staircases, the houses mostly shanties. Makes you wonder how they ever got down into the city before (buses aren´t even a viable option). As a secondary function, the metrocable provides beautiful, sweeping views of the city.

Going Home! Eventually.

2009-05-19T09:25:00.007-05:00

So, my original return flight was out of Lima, then I changed it to go out of Cancun, and after the third (and I sincerely hope) final change, I will be departing from Managua, Nicaragua on July 10th. Yes, that is earlier. So yes, the title of my blog is a lie (7insouthamerica). But, in all honesty, it was always a lie. Even originally it was only going to be 6.5 months. However, I think 6 months (okay, one day less than 6 months) will be quite sufficient, and the change allows me a couple extra weeks to head up north to Michigan when I get back to see the family and hang out at the cottage. Having both parents and all three girls in the same place at the same time is a rare occurance, and it should be celebrated with barbeques, water skiing, and jet skis.

As I´m leaving Taganga tonight for Medellin, here are a few parting sunset shots that a friend took.

In the Black...Almost.

2009-05-18T10:43:00.007-05:00

In an attempt to fill my time (of which I have plenty) and in the interest of my budget, I spent the last week scheming up business plans. After careful consideration and observation I decided that there was a hole in the market, and it was shaped like a brownie. The baked goods in South America as a whole are pretty disappointing, and I figured this was a service that I could offer the tourism industry of Taganga. I looked up a recipe and went into town to get the required ingredients. Made my first batch of brownies from scratch (and realized just HOW much butter goes into those things...and why they are so delicious) and spent 10 minutes trying to sell them on the street. It only took me about 3 of those minutes to remember that I absolutely positively hate selling things. Flashbacks to selling entertainment books in gradeschool gave me the chills. Hopes crushed, I went back home and put the brownies in tupperware. I then made a loop of the village, seeking out the few friends I had made at a scattering of hostels around town. I ended up giving most of them away to randoms sitting around their hostels, and got rave feedback. Hopes revived, I came up with an alternate business plan. So I don´t like sales. That doesn´t cut out my chances entirely, I just needed to find someone to do the dirty work for me. So I made a deal with one of the local juice stand ladies. I would make the brownies and deliver them to the stand in the morning. For every one that sold for 2500 ($1.10), the juice stand lady would get 500. I would return to pick up the money and whatever didn´t sell at the end of the day

Day 1: Made a batch of 12 brownies. By the end of the day, 7 had sold from the juice stand. I only needed to sell 3 to break even on the costs of production, so things were already looking good. But, it was 9pm and I still had 5 brownies to sell. Undeterred from my goal of selling all of them, I set myself up outside the only bar in town (it was Saturday night) with a sign. It took an hour, but I sold the remaining 5. Sucess! I had made enough money to cover all of my expenses for the day, as well as an extra $.65. I´m RICH! ...sort of.

Day 2: Repeat, but with a different juice stand, this one has a better location on the beach. End of the day: disaster. I had borrowed one of my landlord´s plates, and the juice stand had closed a bit early so when I went to retrieve it that night the lady had already cleaned up and taken it home. They were absolutely furious about this, assuming the plate was stolen. After getting screamed at (in spanish, it was good practice, at least), I spent two hours asking just about every person in town where the juice lady lived. I finally recruited the help of an elderly man who walked literally across the whole town with me, finally narrowing in on her neighborhood, street, then house (this took about an hour). I finally found her, "rescued" the plate (since there are NO OTHER green plastic plates in Colombia, even if it had been stolen), and gave the remaining brownies to the old man for his troubles. I returned home to further scolding in spanish. Needless to say, things are a bit weird around the house now. They have calmed down by now, obviously, but I will never be comfortable being there again. So, after a week and a half of laying on the beach, I think it´s time to move on. Pack the bag and get back on the road.

Taganga

2009-05-11T17:35:00.005-05:00

After fleeing Cartagena in search of greener pastures, I ended up in Taganga, Colombia. Still not the white sand Caribbean beach of my dreams, it is quite nice in other ways. Namely, the craggy mountains that surround the (perfectly still) water bay that I get to go trail running in early (early early) in the morning when the sun wakes me up at 6:00. Also, not a 10 minute hike up and around of the the mountains is a nicer beach (the beach right near the town has a tendency to collect trash at a semi-alarming rate) with crystal clear water reminiscent of a swimming pool, albeit a little saltier. I´ve been hanging out here for the past week or so doing just about absolutely nothing. After failed attempts to find a job (there are huge fines for employing foreigners under the table, and the neighbors are known to rat you out), my days are passed very...leisurely. After the first couple nights spent in a hostel, I found a really nice apartment on the non-touristy part of town that I am renting (for $6.50 a night, same price as a bed in a dorm room) from a Belgian couple who had been living here for the past year or so. I´ve met a few other gringos who are hanging around here for a decently extended period of time, most of them passing the time getting scuba diving certified for various levels). Me? I´m spending my time getting tan, on accident. Today at the beach besides sitting in the shade under a tarp strug up between trees, and wearing 45spf sunscreen, I managed a slight burn. I must be THAT white, the UV rays can spot whities a mile away and converge on the target in a sneak attack that goes undetected until it is too late.

My typical day starts at 6:00 am when I awake to the blazing sunshine (sun is up around 5:45, Colombia´s time zone is all messed up). Go for a run, come back and make a MASSIVE breakfast and head down to the beach. By 11am it´s already too hot to be in the sun, so it´s fruit juice and siesta time. The fruit juice... Oh, my, the fruit juice. A 16oz cup of blended fresh tropical fruit heaven costs 1500 pesos, around 65 cents. Passion fruit, star fruit, lulo, mango, banana, pineapple, mora (like a blackberry)...you name it, it will go in a blender with some ice and suger and end up being the most delicious liquid experience of your life. Life becomes livable again around 3pm when the sun has slid a little further down the horizon. Maybe a sunset on the beach, maybe some time in an internet cafe...read...waste away a few hours before making dinner and going to bed around 9:30 (hey, I did get up at 6am, remember?). Then the whole thing starts over again early early the next morning. Will I get bored of this? Most definitely. I´m just hoping I can happily spend the next weeks until Angel comes to visit burning under a tarp and chatting up the gringos, occasionally finding someone who wants to toss around a frisbee with me.

Cartagena

2009-05-05T14:08:00.011-05:00

Cartagena was...not what I expected. I was thinking beautiful caribbean beachfront, a big but compact city that centered around the beach. Turns out there aren´t really any good beaches near town, and the city is a strange geography of penninsulas and bridges. And, it was pretty pricey. Shoot, there goes my plan of hanging out in Cartagena for a month.

I did have a pretty strange coincidence happen. Way back when in La Paz, I met a couple from Seattle who were staying in my hostel. They were heading north, and I was running in circles (Argentina, Ecuador, Peru, Argentina, Columbia) I randomly ran into them again at a different hostel in Máncora (northern Peru) and hung out with them for a couple days. Not five hours after I arrived in Cartagena, I was walking on top the city walls when I hear "hey!!!" from a taxi down below. It was the Washington couple! After coffee and catching up we went our separate ways with the mention of maybe meeting up for dinner. Around 5 when I hadn´t heard from them, I decided to go out for a walk. I was on top of the city wall again when I hear "MARIEL!". It was the couple from Washington. Apparantly the wall is the unspoken meeting place. Dinner at Hard Rock Cafe for a little taste of home (okay, only appetizers, and shared, dinner was too expensive) and some seriously large glasses of pop (if they came with refills I´d have thought I was back in the states. No such luck...). The following day, after 3 hours spent on hot sweaty city buses and one failed attempt to make it to the nearby Volcan de Lodo (Mud volcano, the tallest in Columbia) made me realize that sometimes it really is worth it to just pay the money and go on the guided tour. Maybe when Angel comes.

The highlight of Cartagena was the museum of Inquisition era torture techniques, and the numerous monuments around town ripe for photo ops. Now I´m in Taganga, a teeny little beach town near Santa Marta on the Caribbean coast. This town is what I expected when I showed up in Cartagena, and I have set down roots (at least for a month). I found a really cool place to stay (I´m not there yet, the room is occupied for the next couple nights), I´ll post pictures when I have officially moved in. I´m excited and nervous to stay somewhere for that long...The longest I´ve stayed in a city not including cruises or treks was 5 days in La Paz. Hopefully this does a bit to remedy my travel-tiredness.

Uruguay take Two and the Northern Hemisphere

2009-04-29T17:52:00.005-05:00

After Mendoza, we set off for Buenos Aires, en route to Colonia, Uruguay. After a night on a bus and a mid day ferry over those familiar chocolate milk waters, I was once again on Uruguayan soil: the land of mate, alfajores, and dulce de leche. We spent a sleepy two days in Colonia (all the museums were closed, there isnt much else to do in that town), Laurel and Tim had to head back to BA to catch their flight back home. We parted ways in the afternoon, Laurel and Tim back on the boat and I on a bus to Montevideo. I spent the weekend lounging around, hanging out with a friend I had made who was living at the hostel the last time I was in town.

Sunday morning at 115am I started my 24 hour marathon travel by bus, boat, and air that would bring me over 1000 miles away to Bogota, Colombia. The 115am bus took me from Montevideo to Colonia, where I hopped back on the ferry at 430am to arrive in BA at 730. Flight at 6pm that night, connection in Lima (Lima...again!!), and finally touchdown in Bogota at 1am. Back in the northern hemisphere once again, as I will be for the remainder of my trip. I was disappointed that my vision that all of Colombia is a sun filled paradise did not hold up in Bogota, as it is 2600m up in the Andes. One day of gray and drizzle was enough to drive me to the bus station, where I bought my ticket to Cartagena, on the Caribbean coast, which as long as the weather channel didnt lie to me (and it never does), will be a sun filled paradise.

My time in Bogota, although short, was filled with museums (okay, only two museums, but that is more than I have visited my entire trip, I think). Particularly interesting was the Museo de Oro (Museum of Gold), which not only housed thousands (and I dont think that number is an exaggeration) of gold artifacts from prehispanic civilizations, had a really interesting exhibit on metallurgy. The other museum was the national police museum, which had lots of really graphic pictures in it of dead people. One that was particularly noteworthy: an action shot of a beheading. As in, the head had not yet hit the ground when the picture was taken, and the blood droplets were still flying off the sword. Pretty graphic. I also got to see the jacket that Pablo Escobar was wearing when he was killed. At least there is one thing I can check off my list to do before I die.

Visitors

2009-04-22T11:29:00.017-05:00

It´s been another 10 days or so since I´ve updated, and a lot has happened. Tim and Laurel arrived the morning of the 12th, on Holy Saturday. Besides the fact that Laurel and Tim were beat after the 12 hours of flying, nothing was open, so the day was spent lounging around in parks, having picnics and taking naps. Easter Sunday we went to mass in one of the famous cathedrals in the city, and then set off on foot (since the subways were closed) to explore a couple different barrios of the city. After browsing through the crafts market and seeing some tango dancing in San Telmo (BA´s tango district), we walked south to La Boca, which is famous (with tourists) for it´s brightly painted buildings, supposedly painted with the remnants of ship paint from the days when BA had a functioning port. With Argentinians, Boca is pretty much only known for its soccer team. After a run through the old port area and a brief tour of the Congresso building, we left the following day for Bariloche. After 22 hours on the bus (the 18 hour ride was delayed for 4 hours because of a flat tire, and the lack of proper tools to replace it), we arrived mid afternoon.

We planned a 3 day trek through Nathuel Huapi National Park. Before arriving, I was a little concerned what the weather was going to be like in Bariloche, which is pretty far south in Argentina´s Lake District. Luckily, the weather was absolutely perfect. The days were 65 and sunny, and the nights were brisk (okay, really cold, but it didn´t matter because we were sleeping inside). The first day of the hike we rode a chairlift up (cheating, I know, but it made the hike more difficult in the end, I swear) to the top of a ridge with a beautiful view across the park´s namesake glacial lake Nathual Huapi. Walking along the ridge involved scrambling over boulders and avoiding the steep slope covered in loose gravel that would be a quick and bumpy 400m slide to the valley...and impossible to climb back up. After about a 4.5 hour hike, we arrived at the first refugio to spend the night. These convenient rustic houses in the mountains were a lifesaver. Not only did they provide shelter and a mattress for sleeping, but they cooked dinner and breakfast for us too!! The food at the first refugio was downright gourmet (the guy working there was training to be a professional chef). Day two was a long 6.5 hour haul up out of the valley that the first refugio was in, down that super loose gravel slope I almost fell down several times the day before (I found after slipping and sliding on my butt for about half of that hill that it´s much easier not to fight the slope, but to skate down it), across that valley, up the other chain of mountains on the other side, and finally a steep drop down them and into the final valley where the refugio was. It rained a bit that night, but again, it didn´t matter because I was inside. This is how I should do every trek. No cold rainy nights in tents to wake up to stiff muscles... And it was really, really nice to only carry a sleeping bag and some clothes. The last day was one long 13km walk out along the bottom of the valley. However, since it was low season, there were no buses passing by the trail exit, and we had to walk to the nearest town. After another probably 5km of walking along the road, we flagged down a passing car to ask for directions. We were going the opposite way of town. Luckily, he offered to give us a ride back into town and dropped us off at our hostel door. Love that southern hospitality.

After Bariloche, we headed north to Mendoza. After a day of wandering the city (and a dinner of all you can eat asado), we headed out the following day to the wine district to do the bicycle tour of the numerous vineyards, wineries, and olive oil factories in the area. Laurel and I rented a tandem bike (my first time riding one, things were a bit shaky at the onset, but we became a speed machine with a little practice). After two wineries, an olive oil factory, and a chocolates/liqueur shop, samples at all, we were ready to head back. The following day we were picked up at 9 for the full day horse trek we had arranged. The ranch and beginning of the foothills of the Andes were only 30 minutes outside of town, and we were saddled up and ready to go by 10am. After a rough 4 hours of riding or so, I was saddle sore (the 5 hours on a bicycle the day before didn´t help) and exhausted. We were welcomed back to the ranch with a real life Argentinian asado, and ate some of the best beef we have had while down here. (See the trend? Wine, beef, wine, beef...That is all Argentinians eat, I am convinced. Well, that and dulce de leche.) We got to spend a little time galloping, which was one of my first experiences doing so. It was an awesome feeling, a mix between really feeling the hang time as all the horse´s hooves are off the ground and adrenaline rush of almost falling out of the saddle. Not much compares...except maybe open throttle on a motorcycle :-).

Anniversary

2009-04-11T05:20:00.002-05:00

Today is my 3 month anniversary, I am just a week shy from my halfway point. Time flies when you´re having fun.

Here are a few halfway stats:

Days traveled so far: 90
Flights taken: 5
Bus rides (long distance): 27
Hours spent on a bus: 271 (11.3 days)
Cities visited: 26
Countries visited: 5
Stamps in my passport: 19
Money Stolen (and returned): $2002.56
Days spent trekking: 7
Beaches visited: 7
Visitors: 2 (although that number will increase to 4 once Laurel and Tim show up in just a couple hours)

Bus Marathon, and some Waterfalls

2009-04-08T15:08:00.012-05:00

After Piriápolis, I headed out to Uruguay´s trademark tourist town: Colonia. As you may have inferred from the name, the main attraction is the cute colonial archetechture. Admittedly, I´m not very into colonial archtechture, but I couldn´t leave without spending at least a day there. The town actually was undeniably cute. The treelined streets were cobblestoned and quiet, dotted with sidewalk cafés and artesan shops, and plazas abound.

The majority of tourists in town arrive for the day from BA via ferry across the Río Plata, which is an alarming chocolately brown. This is caused by silt which is carried down from the Amazon, but it´s still a bit unsettling. After walking up and down every street in the historic bit of town, climbing the lighthouse, and eating at one of the sidewalk cafés with a couple of American girls I met, I had pretty much covered the Colonia tourist circuit. So, I headed back to my hostel to cook dinner and go to sleep early. I had a grand plan for the following day that would take me from Uruguay all the way up to Puerto Iguazu in Argentina, starting at 5:40am, via 4 buses and taking close to 24 hours. But, that didn´t exactly work out. I made it for the 5:40 bus, got off at the teeny town of Fray Bentos, Uruguay to catch a bus across the border. Unfortunately I tried to do this on Palm Sunday, and the country had pretty much shut down. The bus that was supposed to take me across the border wasn´t running that day, and as I found this out I looked up to see the bus I had arrived on (that would have taken me to a more populated border town to make the crossing) pulling out of the station. NOO! So, out of options, I was stuck in the teeny town of Fray Bentos, with nothing open. No hostels in town, I ended up at a two star hotel (living the good life...), and had myself a picnic in the nearby park. Could be worse places to get stuck, at least the weather was gorgeous. The next day I caught the bus that I had just missed the day before, and it took me to the populated border town, and I crossed to Argentina. There I picked up a bus headed for Puerto Iguazu, pretty seemlessly. After I got out of Fray Bentos, the entire ordeal took 22 hours. I could have made my 4 bus, 24 hour goal if I had only picked the right border crossing the first time...

Made it into Puerto Iguazu at 8:30am. The only thing to do in Puerto Iguazu is to go to the Iguazu National Park and see the massive waterfalls there, and so that is what I did. Me, and the rest of Argentina. The place was packed. I guess it´s always packed, just a bit more so during Holy Week. I had booked a 7:30pm bus back to BA that morning, not wanting to deal with finding a hostel. I made it to the falls at 11am, and spent the day dutifully going to every lookout point in the park and trying to dodge the crowds. The falls really were beautiful. The main attraction, El Garganta del Diablo (throat of the devil) is an impressive sight. The entire park is linked by a series of catwalks that get you out close to the falls. At times, real close to the falls. Iguazu reportedly has the highest annual flow of water. I don´t doubt it.

Uruguay

2009-04-03T15:12:00.015-05:00

Landed in Buenos Aires at 130am the morning of the 27th. Luckily I had made reservations online for a hostel while I was in Lima, so when I showed up at my hostel of choice at 3 in the morning, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they didn´t have a bed for me. What? Apparently they thought the reservation was for the NIGHT of the 27th, although I had specified that it was for 3am on the 27th. They graciously offered me the couch in the TV room of the hostel, which was nice, as a night of free accomodation, except that the TV room was connected to the hostel´s on site bar, which was pumping drum and bass music until 5am for all 4 patrons that were there. There are times that I wonder why I carry around my heavy sleeping bag liner, until a situation comes up that I am sleeping on a dirty couch in a bar, and I don´t mind the extra weight so much anymore. My visit to BA wasn´t much to write home about, I spent just about a complete day sick in bed, the next one not feeling so good but wandering around the city anyway. I left after two nights for Montevideo, Uruguay.

I really liked Montevideo. Quiet tree lined streets and a pleasant laid back atmosphere had me convinced I could live there. For as hot as it was in BA, it was definitely fall in Montevideo. The sycamore trees had started losing their leaves, and the constant breeze had a definite chill to it. Two days wandering Montevideo, and I headed off to Punta del Diablo with some American (actually, they grew up just a few miles from my house in MI, Dearborn, for you Michiganders) friends I had made. Punta del Diablo is described as a little visited fishing village in Lonely Planet. By little visited they meant NO ONE was there. I bet it´s pretty hopping in high season, but it was deserted when we showed up. Rented a cabana for a night and spent some time exploring the rocky coast, playing frisbee on the sandy bit, and swimming in the ocean.

After Punta del Diablo, I headed to a more populated beachfront town called Piriápolis. I was lucky enough to get some beautiful weather, just missing the overcast day yesterday which I heard about from my dormmates. It´s been an action packed day so far, I was up at 745 to go running, I was climbing the third highest peak in Uruguay (all 423m of it...not too impressive coming down from the 4750m hike in the Andes just a week ago) by 11, and on the beach by 2pm. The hike was awesome. The sign at the entrance said it takes approximately 3 hours to summit. Determined to make it in under 1, I set off at a quick pace. I made really good time, until I got lost. I ended up on some teeny little overgrown trail that I guess was a water runoff, because it started going downhill. Refusing to go downhill, I thought it would be a good idea to just scale the rocks to the top, which didn´t look THAT far away. So, I ended up bouldering/free climbing the last 50m or so of ascent. The areas that weren´t boulders were covered in a prickly cactus type plant, so I ended up jumping and scrambling my way along the tops of the boulders the whole way up. 45 minutes after I passed that sign on the way up claiming a 3 hour ascent I was standing at the bottom of the cross, sweaty, scratched up and bleeding, covered in bug bites, and quite happy.

Trekking in the Andes

2009-03-25T11:30:00.007-05:00

Huaraz... a cruel reminder how affected I am by altitude. The first month and a half of my trip was spent on the altiplano, at an elevation of 2500m and above. After a month on the beach, I had lost all affinity for altitude. I arrived in Huaraz at 7:00am at 3000+m elevation from the beach wearing sandals and a tank top. Cold! I booked a four day trek for the following morning and spent the day trying to acclimatize. Not eating much, sleeping, enjoying a dull throb in my head, and panting at the top of every staircase. We left for the trek at 6am the following morning, and after a 4 hour drive up tiny twisting mountain roads, clearing the way of rocks from a recent land slide, we began the hike. The first day was pretty easy, we hiked for about 5 hours and arrived at the campsite around 4pm. Then we waited in the rain for the donkeys to arrive with the tents and food. That was one of the most uncomfortable hours Ive spent in a while, and that post hike chill was hard to shake. The first night was cold. Very very cold. During the hikes I was feeling fine, great, even. However at camp when the endorphins had worn off the altitude hit and I felt terrible. I didnt have more than a cup of tea for dinner either of the nights, and spent the majority of the time curled up in my tent.

The beginning of the second day we all lined up to have our waterbottles filled. When we asked where the water was the guide replied that they had thrown it out, since no one had asked last night to have water boiled for drinking. What!! So we set off, with no water (some people still had a teeny bit left from the first day), for a 7 hour hike. After hiking the morning on three stolen sips of water from a friends water bottle, I gave in and filled my camelback with stream water. I still didnt drink much of it, because when choosing between dehydration and the possibility of giardia from something weird in the water, I chose dehydration. However, the afternoon of the second day was the highest point on the trek, a pass at 4750m. It was completely foggy up there, and snowing. Another girl and I were struggling pretty hard with the altitude, so we summited (slowly) together. I felt REALLY bad the second night, still being non-aclimatized to the altitude on top of the pretty severe dehydration. There was one girl who had signed up to do the four day trek in three days, combining the last two easy days into one 8 hour hike. After the first two days in camp, over half the group decided to do the three day trek, myself included. After two nights of altitude sickness, I wanted nothing else than to get off the mountain. We set off at 630am the next morning (I made sure to ask for water this time) at a brisk pace. I hiked with a kiwi friend named Gina, and for the most part we were in the lead of the group. We finished the 8 hour hike in 6 hours, enjoying the absolutely beautiful weather we had the last day (nice switch from the mist and snow). The pizza and pisco sours (and hot showers!!) that we rewarded ourselves with that night hit the spot like nothing can, unless youve just spent a few days in the sticks, camping in the rain.

In exchange for the day spent not trekking, the company threw in some "free" rock climbing for Gina and I. The first two walls were very easy, so by the time that we got to the third wall (which was very not as easy), I was definitely feeling it in my arms, and my legs from the hiking. It was good fun, though. They caught me cheating in the picture, using the clip on the wall as a foothold. I was just resting, though, I swear!

Now Im in Lima, hanging out here until I fly to BA, Argentina tomorrow. So far as I know, this will be the last time Im in Peru this trip...but the way this trip has been going, I wont be too surprised if at some point in the next few months I find myself back in Lima.

De las playas a las Sierras

2009-03-19T12:40:00.004-05:00

The next stop on my southbound beach tour was Huanchaco, a small suburb of the city Trujillo. It was really quiet there (I can´t count the times I heard the word "tranquilo" during my stay), with all the Southern Hemispherians back in school after their summer break (what happened to all the Australians!!). I made a friend on the bus from Máncora to Trujillo, a french boy who spoke spanish and a little english (but refused to speak to me in english, since I couldn´t speak to him in french). We hung out for time I spent in Huanchaco, and it was a great opportunity to practice my spanish.

There wasn´t much to do in Huanchaco except hang out on the beach, surf (which I didn´t do, the water there was cooolld!), and see the nearby pre-incan ruins from the Moche and Chimu civilizations. The first, Chan Chan, was declared by UNESCO to be the world´s largest city built entirely from mud brick. The Chimu people inhabited it from A.D. 800 to 1400, when it was conquered by the Incas. The other site, el Huaca de la Luna, was a bit more interesting. The Chimu culture evolved from the Moches, who flourished in AD 100 to 600. The Moches had this temple, Huaca de la Luna, and every hundred years they would completely fill the whole thing in with mud bricks so that the old temple was now just like a blank foundation and build another temple on top of it. Turns out that they never got too creative with their temples, each new one looked pretty much like the old one, so the archaelogists have stopped excavating down because in order to see the first temple (which probably looks a lot like the third, which looks a lot like the fourth...) they would need to destroy the top 5 temples to see it.

Now, I´m in Huaraz, back in the mountains. It was a pretty rough shock getting off the bus this morning coming from the tropical beach weather to 3000some meters altitude. Tomorrow I start a trek in the cordierras blancas, home to 33 peaks over 5500m altitude, the highest mountain in Peru, and Alpamayo, a mountain that UNESCO declared the most beautiful mountain in the world (who are they to make these claims?).

Pacific Paradise

2009-03-15T18:08:00.005-05:00

Since the time that I dropped my parents off at the airport, I have been on a mission to find a beach. Not too dificult, less than 4 hours away from Guayaquil I found myself in a teeny town called Montañita. Montañita was...interesting. There was a main street that was completely tourist focused. The rest of the town was nothing. Montañita is one of those places that people go to and get stuck for months at a time, they just can´t leave. Which probably explains the hoards of gringos with dreads wearing Ecuador bracelets, selling hemp bracelets, and playing Bob Marley. It was a little much, so after a short two night stay, I headed south to Peru.

I ended up in Peru´s version of Montañita, a little town called Máncora on the very northern coast. However, the people here seem to be a little more genuine about the fact that they were at a beach resort and not a hippie commune. The hostel I checked into was a budget version of an all inclusive resort. The beachfront property had a pool, bar, and restaurant, all for less than $8 a night. Not bad.

This morning I went fishing with a local fisherman. The old wooden boat and 25hp motor looked like they had seen their fair share of hurricanes, but it did the job. The fisherman was quite a resourceful dude, his anchor was a big rock that he tied a rope around (and then a rope to that rope, and a rope to that rope), which doubled as a sea anchor if he reeled in the ropes a little. We used actual fishing poles for about 15 minutes, then switched to a wooden block that had fishing line wrapped around it and a hook tied to the end. He obviously wasn´t expecting any 3 foot tuna. We didn´t catch much...about 6 little 4-6" fish between the two of us. Apparantly "the currents [were] just all wrong".

Now I´m off again, heading south along the coast toward Lima. I have to catch a flight out of there on the 26th. Looks like I´ve got some time on my hands...

Ecuador and the Galápagos

2009-03-10T18:19:00.026-05:00

Well, it´s been a while, but I have a good excuse. I´ve spent the last two weeks babysitting--I mean traveling with my parents (just kidding, guys). After my harrowing journey into Quito, I picked them up from the airport on February 22nd. We only had a day and a half in Quito before flying out to the Galápagos, so we went the 22km outside the city to the site of the equator, of which there are two of them (who knew?). One of them is the government owned monument (that big imposing one with the ball on the top), and the other "real" one is about 400m away in a private museum. Supposedly GPS coordinates place the equator there. The official monument was in a compound of gift shops and restaurants, and since we went on Carnaval, it was a free for all of kids (and adults) spraying shaving cream and water. This time, no one was spared. The private museum had a collection of somewhat hokey experiments to play with (balancing an egg on a nail, watching the coriolus effect change the direction a sink of water would drain, among others, none of which seemed particularly legit). However, it was undeniably fun to hop from one side to the other at both equators.

We left from Quito on the 24th for the Galápagos islands and our 8 day cruise. It was amazing. Everyone who comes back from Galápagos has stories of how you can walk right up to the animals, who are unafraid and friendly. I decided to test this theory. The first thing I did while waiting on the pier to be brought to the ship was to go introduce myself to a sea lion who was lounging on the dock. I boldly walked up to him, began to squat down to chat, and then screamed and made a quick retreat as he started to charge me, barking loudly. Sea lions are comically awkward on land, but this guy somehow made that waddle intimidating. Starting out well.

The boat was beautiful. It was a 16 passenger (we had 12) motorized catamaran, and they meant business when they labeled it "luxury". We were on it´s second voyage in Galápagan waters, and although a few kinks had yet to be ironed out, it was still amazing. The food was a work of art (literally, the guide said the chef spent more time making animal sculptures out of fruits and veggies than making meals), and the jacuzzi and sun deck on top were a nice touch (and a great place to watch a sunset). Our days started at 6am with the omnipresent soft easy listening music and a wake up call, followed by breakfast at 630, ready to disembark around 730. We would then have a shore excursion (guided walking tour on one of the islands for animal watching or landscape viewing) or dingy ride along the rougher coasts for bird spotting. We would then usually return to the boat around 1030 or 11 for a snack and time to rest and shower before lunch at 1230. Back on land (usually a different island by this point) or snorkeling at 230, back onboard for another snack and sunset at 530, dinner around 7, hang out until going to sleep. And then all over again. There was quite a bit of eating going on... This continued for 8 glorious days of surreal landscapes and even more surreal animal encounters (there were times that we literally had to wade through iguanas and politely ask the giant tortoises to stop blocking the path).

After the cruise, we flew into Guayaquil, Ecuador. The cruise included two nights in a 5 star hotel on mainland, the first of which we took in Guayaquil. It was a little different than the type of traveling I had been doing...but certainly not an unwelcome change. We headed out the next day for Baños, and for my parent´s first South American bus journey. Eight hours later we arrived to a downpour in Baños. The three of us crammed in a taxi with a British couple who were standing nearby and were dropped off at the hostel. The next day we did a half day white water rafting trip that took us into the jungle. Next up: canyoning, which is a fancy name for repelling down waterfalls. That was a lot of fun, highlighted by the fact that at one point (okay maybe more than once) I slipped and was suspended upside down face first with water pounding my face. Never a dull moment. We then visited the namesake of the town, the natural hot springs that were just a few blocks from our hostel.

After Baños, we headed down to Cuenca, Ecuador´s third largest town, and arguably one of the most quaint and beautiful. It was here that Dad found that you can order gin by the glass as opposed to by the shot, and that you really do get a glass full of gin. God bless Ecuador. A day of exploring the city and we were back on the bus the next morning for Guayaquil, a day before my parent´s departure. Time flies when you´re on a whirlwind tour.

Now? I´m on a beach in a sleepy little town called Montañita with more surf board rental shops than residents, I´m pretty sure. I´m going to relax, for a little... Drink some salt water and maybe see if I can learn how to conquer a wave. It´s hard work being on vacation!

Most of the Galápagos pictures on here were taken by Jon (who´s hanging out with me and our sea lion pal in the picture below). He caught some awesome shots.

More marine iguanas than you can shake a stick at.

Giant tortoise

The Galápagos penguin

Blue footed booby, doing the Blue footed Booby Dance

Land Iguana

Hightailing It Back East

2009-02-21T13:50:00.006-05:00

Peru...Bolivia...Argentina...Ecuador?? Currently in Quito, after a "character building" trek cross continent over the past few days.

My parents are flying in tomorrow night to Quito, Ecuador. Which means I need to be there to meet them. The issue with that is, I was in Córdoba, Argentina: 4 time zones and a lot (a lot) of miles away. And for some unforseen reason, it is ridiculously expensive to catch a flight from Córdoba to Quito. $1200 round trip expensive. Whoops! Didn´t see that coming. Luckily, I found this out about 5 days before I had to be in Ecuador, so I had some time to recalculate. I spent one afternoon and most of an evening trying to find a less expensive alternative to the flight. After exploring the option of Bus from Córoba to Lima (3.5 days, $500 r/t) and dismissing it as A) Masichistic, and B) impossible, since it only leaves twice a week and I had missed the it by about 12 hours. so, after quite a bit of sweet talking the online airfare search websites, I found a flight from Buenos Aires to Lima for $450 round trip. Sold. Flight out the 18th, purchased the 16th. Night of the 17th I caught a 12 hour bus that brought me into BA around 830 the next morning. At 3pm (11am Eastern time) I had a flight out of there, connection through Sao Paulo, and landed in Lima at 9pm Eastern Time. From the Lima airport (where again I was disappointed to find that a round trip flight to Quito was $800), it was straight to the only bus company in Lima that I knew of that had a bus running all the way to Quito. No buses that night, but there was one leaving for Quito the next day at 5pm (lucky, lucky, apparently these long (real long) buses only leave twice a week, and I had hit it perfectly). After a quick 3.5 hour delay of departure (during which I was unwillingly engaged in conversation with a certifiable paranoid schizophrenic American who had been traveling around SA on false documents trying to avoid the Ecuadorian government agents who had been tapping on his windows and knocking on his door at night), it was a short 38 hour jaunt from Lima to Quito, and after about 26 uncomfortable sleeping positions and one 300some page book, I was in Quito before I knew it. The bus was continuing on to Columbia. They had another 14 hours or so until they reached their destination. I guess I can´t complain too loudly...someone always has it worse than you, right?

But, don´t worry about me, I´m sure I´ll find a little time to unwind on the 8 day galapagos cruise. 8-)

The Long Road to Argentina

2009-02-15T14:36:00.004-05:00

When we finally got back to Uyuni after the Salar tour, we really, really wanted to get out of that city. Besides about 27 pizza shops and more tour companies than you can count, Uyuni doesn´t have much to offer. The night we got back we booked seats on the first bus heading out of Bolivia, leaving at 6:00am the next morning. For 80 Bolivianos ($11) we would spend 12 hours bumping down a single lane dirt switchbacked moutain road all the way to Villazón, the border town between Bolivia and Argentina. The switchbacks were tight. Very, very tight. There were times when I would watch the front tire come precariously close to the edge and hear the shifting and groan of the loose rocks that formed the boundary between life and death for us. I would hold my breath, and either we would creep by, or the bus driver would have to reverse in order to make the corner. I am impressed by those buses though...I saw that thing navigate creek crossings and take on terrain that looked fit for a 4 wheel drive jeep.

Early in the morning, a couple of Argentinian girls who were sitting in front of me got robbed. They had put their bag in the overhead storage area, and one of the many locals who was walking on and off the bus snatched it. In her bag she had her passport, camera, wallet, all her credit cards, everything that is near and dear to a traveler. All gone. She was an emotional mess.

Around 4pm we pulled into the other (semi) major town in southwest Bolivia, Tupiza. The bus driver had collected our tickets, which was weird. Usually they come through and tear off the stub, but this time he took the whole thing. Something fishy is going on... He then told us that the roads were too dangerous for the bus to continue on to the border, and we´d have to find another way. What!! We paid for the whole journey, the lady who sold us the tickets said we´d be to the border by 6pm!! The Argentinians went ballistic. And I´m glad they did. After a shouting match about how her family is worried, they don´t know where she is, she needs to get into her country, TONIGHT, blah blah...I will be eternally grateful for her tirade, because it got us (8 of us) packed into a teeny jeep, packs strapped to the top, and on our way to the border. We pulled in a little past 6.

Crossing the border was another mission. After waiting for 45 minutes for a scramble of Bolivians with hodge podge documents (true Bolivia style) to try to get exit stamps, a quick chunk chunk of the stamp got me out of that country (about time, too, there are only so many times I can take being ripped off and lied to before it´s too much). Getting into Argentina took another 2 hours, and one rain storm. After the line hadn´t moved for 1.5 hours, an Argentinian official came up and collected our passports. We just handed them over, watched him walk away, then thought, wait a second...that probably wasn´t very smart... But, it all worked out, after about 5 minutes he came back out, documents in hand, and we were through. Wandered around the border town a bit until we found the bus station. Luckily found an 11pm bus to Salta, our final destination. Layover in a small town from 330am to 6am, then another bus into Salta, where it was pouring rain. Finally checked into a hostel around 830am, a mere 28 hours after we set off from Uyuni. Haven´t really done much since then, just kind of hung out in Salta. Leaving tonight for Córdoba, pretty much just killing time until my parents come to visit on the 20th and I fly out to meet them in Ecuador.

For the mean time, I am just enjoying being out of Bolivia, and drinking tap water for the first time in a month and a half.

The Salar de Uyuni

2009-02-14T13:34:00.012-05:00

After Potosí, I headed down to Uyuni to visit the Salar de Uyuni. It is a huge expanse of salt flats (the area used to be a salt ocean, or lake or something) it is approximately 12 square kilometers. It is white and flat for as far as the eye can see, and is surrounded by the desert of the Bolivian southwest. The salt is approximately a meter deep, and is intrusive. In the first hour of the tour everything I was wearing or carrying (including the 4x4 jeep that was our home for the next three days) was covered in salt.
I traveled from Potosí to Uyuni with a few Australian boys that I had done the mine tour with, and we arranged the Salar tour together, since you need groups of 6. Uyuni, like Potosí, is a bunch of nothing. A few pizza shops and lots and lots of tour companies. So, we got in, found a hostel, and went to book a tour. We picked one company kind of at random, and made a bit of a mistake. Although I´m sure all the companies kind of sucked, ours was pretty bad. Promises of english speaking guides and pancake and egg breakfasts were forgotten once we got out into the desert. Our tour guide was less than to be desired...We had four flat tires in one day (and one spare, which also went flat in the end). At one point, alone on the road with the tire completely flat, the guide tried to fill it up with LP gas from the grill. Simultaneously the four of us yelled NOOOOOO!!!!! In spanish I said "What are you doing?? That´s really dangerous!" To which the guide replied "I know what I´m doing. It´s gas, it´s fine." And we put our foot down. No way were we getting in the jeep if he put that gas in the tire. No way. Eventually he must have realized how stupid it was, because he stopped and then asked us to delete the pictures we had taken of him doing it. No. Eventually another jeep came along and we used its engine and air hose to pump up.

The Salar and surrounding areas are beautiful, though, and I enjoyed getting out there to see them. We stayed in hostels built of salt and got to climb rocks, see flamingos, chase llamas (that wasn´t exactly part of the tour), and soak in some hot springs (at 6am in the morning, it was pretty cold outside of the 100F water). When we got back to town we had all sorts of plans to complain about the service and get some sort of a refund. However, our story was trumped, big time. One of the other jeeps had a driver who had been drinking, and managed to roll the jeep. Nobody was seriously hurt, thank god, but one guy was bleeding. Needless to say, they got a refund. That actually wasn´t the only case I heard of drunk drivers, either. I´m glad our major mishap was a potentially explosive tire.

Potosí, the highest city in the World

2009-02-14T13:10:00.005-05:00

I´ve been in the Bolivian desert for a while (where internet cafes are hard to come by), so I have to do a little catching up. After I left Sucre (in a huff, although the ATM card fraud seems to be sorting itself out), I headed off to Potosí, who´s claim to fame is being the highest city in the world. It is also a major mining town. In fact, that is about all there is in Potosí. So, I did a mine tour. Wow. I´ve been in mines before, but this one was a challenge. The conditions were horrendous. Ventilation was nearly nonexistant once you left the primary level shaft. Fluffy white asbestous lined most of the ceilings, and the silica dust was overpowering. Most of the miners don´t wear any sort of breathing protection, they just chew coca leaves to ignore the dust and irritations. They find it hard to ignore the silicosis of the lung that inevitably occurs around age 45 (most start working between the ages of 11 and 14, there are no other jobs in Potosí). The miners get to set their own schedules, but since they work on commission only, most work 7 days a week, 12 hours a day (or more). On Friday afternoons they drink Ceibo, which is pure 96% alcohol (ouch, it hurts to drink). Crawling around in the shafts (at times we had to army crawl to make it through) was as much of a mental challenge as a physical challenge. The clausterphobia (and I´m not clausterphobic) was hard to control. The air is hot and dusty, and breathing hard makes a small panic set in. To say the least, I was very happy to see daylight again. Very happy.

As much as I hate Bolivia (see next post, and previous post), I do love the fact that anybody can go to the miner´s market and buy explosives...for under $3. The first stop on the tour was a small shop where you bought one "completo" (a stick of nitroglycerine and a packet of ammonium nitrate, along with a detonater), all wrapped up in a shopping bag. Of our group of 8 people, 6 bought the dynamite. After the tour, we got to blow it up. It was awesome. Our tour guide let us combine the 6 into 3 big explosives. He taught us how to assemble them, then asked for volunteers to place the explosives (ME ME ME ME ME ME!!!), I got picked, maybe because I was the only girl. Either way, it was really cool. That picture over there is me holding the lit explosive. The fuse lasts for 3 minutes, so after about one minute of playing hot potato with three lit bombs and a bunch of cameras, the three of us who volunteered to place the explosives and the guide took off running. We were sprinting down and across a hill (loose dirt, borrowed boots, and 4200m elevation, running was a challenge). The guide kicked off small flats in the hill for us to place the bombs (the other guys got to place theirs first, I was running around behind them freaking out because I could feel the fuse getting shorter in my hand). Finally it was my turn to put down the dynamite and RUUUUNNNN!!!! Sprinted back to the group, and maybe 15 seconds later BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!! ...It was really cool.

Two Wheeled Touring, and Some Thievery as Well

2009-02-09T08:50:00.003-05:00

Sucre, Bolivia. A whole different world from La Paz. The streets are much less chaotic, the markets remained contained in the market places and do not spill out onto the sidewalks, and the buildings have an understated beauty that differs from the hodgepodge charm of La Paz. Spent the first day in town just exploring, and the evening cooking the first homemade meal I´ve had in a while (beef roast, zuchinni, green beans, and diced potatoes). Started the next day at 10am for a mountain bike tour of the surrounding countryside.

The area outside Sucre is beautiful, and after a grueling 45 minute climb out of town with dusty busses and choking exhaust fumes, we were suddenly surrounded by green rolling hills. The climb was finally rewarded with a 3k downhill, a switchbacked road that snaked it´s way down a mountain. (Granted, we then had to climb UP the 3k on the way back, but I´ll be honest and admit that I walked about half of it.) About halfway down the road there was an option to do a jaunt of single track or to continue down the road. Of the 5 in our group, only me and one other guy opted for the off road route, and I´m glad I did. It was about half a mile drop of arm jarring, loose rocks, almost skidding off a mountainside fun. At the bottom of the hill we came to a country club house, where we left the bikes and set off on foot. After an hour or so of scrambling over rocks and shimmying along teeny ledges (this hike would definitely not be sanctioned in the US), we arrived at a beautiful and deserted little waterfall. The pool the waterfall emptied into was about 20ft deep, and so we all partook in a little cliff jumping. After some uncomfortably technical climbing to be doing in a bikini, I stood staring over the edge of the rock at the water about 20ft below and listening to the guide reassure me that it is plenty deep to dive off, depsite the fact that it was opaque and I couldn´t see anything. Besides the mildly serious case of swimmers ear that plagued me the whole way back, it was awesome.

What was not so awesome is what happened the next morning. Wanting to get an early start, I headed out to find an ATM to pay for my hostel. Stopping at the first one I found, I inserted my card. After the transaction, I ended up getting an error message, no cash, and no card. What?? The ATM machine just ate my card. Called the service number, no help. They told me to go to the bank. Went to the bank when it opened, no help. They told me I wouldn´t get my card back until Wednesday. Decided to cancel it and have a new one mailed to my parents, who I´ll be seeing in just over two weeks when they come down to Ecuador. On my walk to the internet cafe, I saw a cop and a Brinks man standing by the ATM that ate my card. I walked up, and told them my situation. The Brinks man says "Oh, is this your card?" My hopes soar. I look at the card. My hopes plummet. No. I continue on to the internet cafe where I call my parents and initiate the cancellation. On a conference call with my bank, I ask if any charges have been made that morning. Yes. $1900 worth. WHAT! Apparently the ATM machine was a fraud, and the theives used it to steal my card and pin, and then proceded to make over 8 withdrawls in the next 2 hours, totally nearly $2000. I don´t know why the bank didn´t think that 8 withdrawls in 2 hours in Bolivia wasn´t suspicious behavior, but it was allowed. A fraud affadivit has been submitted. In 10 business days the money will be temporarily replaced in my account, pending the results of the investigation. After 45 days I get to find whether or not they have determined it to be true fraud, and therefore get to be refunded the money. Hopefully this happens...otherwise that is one horribly horribly expensive life lesson about Bolivian ATMs.

La Paz, Bolivia

2009-02-02T16:34:00.004-05:00

I´ve spent the last few days in La Paz, Bolivia. I really like the city. The bus ride here was a rather uneventful passing of farms and hills, but once we began the descent into the city it was beautiful. A sprawling valley metropolis fenced in by craggy mountains on every side. The city itself is a hectic clutter of market stalls, murderous busses (I actually got hit by one!!), and little oddities like dried llama fetuses (the Bolivians bury them under their porches for good luck). The sun, as it is all over the altiplano, is deceiving strong. The weather has been beautiful the entire time I was here. High 60s to low 70s and sunny.

As an early birthday present to myself I went dirt biking in the sourrounding countryside, which was eerily reminiscent of the canyonlands of Utah. I´m currently traveling with a friend I met in Puno, Peru. The off roading (I got a little Honda 200 dirtbike, he rode a quad) cost a ridiculous 80 Bolivianos an hour (approximatesly $12). We spent three hours on tiny winding roads with beautiful scenery and huge drop offs on the sides. We shared these roads with no one but a few locals hauling materials in from the countryside and, surprisingly, huge dump trucks which barely fit on the road. It would be an utter disaster if two of them met head on, there was hardly even room for us to pass without making a dangerous move along the cliffs (don´t look down!). It was an awesome time, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Afterwards I was sweaty, covered in dust, a little brusied up, and very happy (although that may have been partially due to the ice cream that they had waiting for me when I got back).

Lake Titicaca and the last of Peru

2009-01-28T18:53:00.006-05:00

I have officially left Peru, for the first time this trip (I´ll be returning to fly out of Lima). I spent my last few days in Puno, a small town on the shores of Lake Titicaca. I have officially recovered from my Inca Trail trek, as I willingly climbed 645 steps (I counted them) to the Mirador Cóndor for a beautiful panoramic view of the city and lake.

The next day I headed out on a two day Island tour in Lake Titicaca. It was really interesting... The first day we took a boat out to the Uros, which are floating islands made of stands of reeds that are literally strapped together and anchored in place. About 6-10 indiginous families live on such islands, and there are about 10 of them. They are constantly building more of these because they only last for 30-45 years before they decompose. Our next stop was a small natural island where we were going to stay the night with one of the indidinous families that lived there. We were segregated into groups based on which house we would be staying at. My group consisted of two Spanish women, two Brazilian women, and an Argentinian couple. Everyone spoke spanish...except me. It was a good opportunity to work on my listening skills, and the Spanish women were quite patient and beared with me as I stumbled through conversation.

The island village was a sleepy (sleepy sleepy, sleepy sleepy) little town that probably had a higher population of sheep than people. The bathroom was little more than a hole in the ground in a shed at the rear of the property. The accomodations were...rustic. Candle lighting at night and wood fire cooking added to the feeling that I had just traveled 500 years back in time. The locals threw a small fiesta for us turistas that night with traditional dress and dancing. The next morning we set off for the largest of the natural islands on the Peruvian side, Tequíle. A 45 minute hike brought us to the main square, which was swarming with little girls in traditional dress selling friendship bracelets for 1 sol (about 30 cents) and giving doleful stares and whining when you refused. The return to Puno in the afternoon was spent tanning on the roof of the boat (very carefully, the sun is deceivingly strong at 3800m elevation) for the 3 hour boat ride back. All in all it was a very interesting way to experience the indiginous culture on the world´s highest navigable lake. I arrived in La Paz, Bolivia today around 5pm. From what I´ve seen of the city, I´m pretty excited to spend the next few days wandering the neverending open air markets and hilly streets.

Rapids, Revolts, and Going Solo

2009-01-24T16:03:00.009-05:00

Spent the last few days in Arequipa, Peru, a city that gets over 300 days of sun a year. The weather has been compliant with the trend, it has been absolutely beautiful every day. The first day here we went white water rafting in the Río Chili, which is a flow of melted ice cap from the city´s guardian Volcano Misti which sits just a few miles outside of town. The second day we headed out to the outskirts of town, where there is a nice outlook over Arequipa and Misti. The plan after that was to head to a small neighboring village that had built several public pools that were fed by the river water. However, the taxi driver refused to take us due to a large amount of demostrations and protests that were going on. We had already been caught in a couple such demostrations in the main plaza in Arequipa. (I don´t know how a group of people that filled the street for an entire block snuck up on us, but they came out of nowhere and we were suddenly surrounded.) In compromise, we ended up at a public ¨olympic pool¨ which was half filled with water. I happened to get a Peruvian admirer while at the pool... a ten year old Peruano boy who chatted me up in Spanish and checked to see that I was watching every time he did a running dive into the pool. Eventually he took my picture and settled for watching me from afar.

Arequipa is at an elevation of 7800 feet, and at a latitude of about 15 degrees. My brief time spent outside in the sun has gotten me looking a bit like the peruvian flag myself, awkward tan (read: burn) lines abound.

Today is Sterling´s last day with me. At 6 tonight we are both heading off by bus, but he will be returning to Lima (and then home to Iowa, where wind chills have been reaching -50F, ouch). I will be heading to Puno, Peru which is a shore town of Lake Titicaca. From there, I will cross into Bolivia, where the 10 day weather forcast calls for highs of 50F and rain nearly every day (except the day that it might snow). La Paz is at an elevation of 3,640 m. Oh, altitude...always ruining my summer fun.

Comfort Food

2009-01-21T19:36:00.002-05:00

After a frustrating 9.5 hour bus ride from Cuzco to Arequipa, Peru, nothing hit the spot like a large deluxe Dominos pizza. So good.

Machu Picchu and the Inca Trail

2009-01-20T10:56:00.006-05:00

I just got back from the Inca Trail trek. It was four days, three nights, covered 45km (28 miles), and was one of the most physically (mentally, emotionally, and spiritually) taxing undertakings of my life. The group consisted of a young Irish couple, and three 66 year old english men. The whole group, aside from me and Sterling, opted to hire a porter to carry their luggage. Our packs didnt seem too heavy when we left the hostel, but when the water, sleeping pad and sleeping bag were added they were about 25 lbs. This wasnt even an issue until about halfway through day one.

Day one
Wake up at 330 am, pack the bags, head out to the lobby where the bus is waiting to pick us up. An hour and a half on the bus, winding through tiny towns in the Andes. Arrive at the trailhead. Start hiking. Word of the day: Peruvian Flat. You hike up, you hike down, and yet gain no elevation. Kind of frustrating to trudge up a climb, and when you make it to the top, have to walk right back down. But, it wasnt too hard, and we made it to the lunch site relatively quickly. The food on the trek was awesome. Those guys could cook meals in the wilderness over a propane fire that rivaled my cooking in a kitchen. After lunch, the fun began. It was three and a half hours of straight up. Up. And up. And up. A never ending staircase from hell, it went on and on. The packs got heavier as the day went on. Eventually it got to the point where we would look about 15 steps ahead and make a goal to get there. Rest at that big rock. Okay. Break when we get to that tree. Okay. Eventually, we made it at around 430. I passed out in my tent until dinner, woke up, at a bit, and passed right back out. Thankfully, that helped me get over the last of the altitude sickness. We were now at about 3700m. We had covered over 1000m elevation gain that afternoon. Ouch.

Day Two
Woke up around 6, feeling much better than the day before. That mornings task was to reach the trail summit at 4200m, about a 500m elevation gain. Starting fresh and in good spirits, we rocketed to the top (well not exactly, but in comparison to the day before...). It was all downhill from here. Sort of. Turns out going downhill hurts. Bad. The climbing muscle group now forgotten, attention was turned to calves and quads. Both of which burned with the heat of a thousand suns. The rest of the morning was spent descending in rainforest splendor, lush vegation and waterfalls all around. Lunch was spent in a pleasant valley, and it was pretty and sunny out. The afternoon hike involved a 1.5 hour hike up, then a 2 hour descent. The rain began on the climb. It didnt stop for 24 hours. Hiking in the rain sucks.

Day Three
Short hike today, started at 7am, reached camp at 11am. Mostly Peruvian Flat, not too bad, but it was rainy and miserable. Spirits are falling. The rain finally stopped around 3pm, and it cleared and got beautiful. We could finally see the beautiful andes mountains and neighboring valley that had previously been shrouded in mist. This was the most developed campsite (by far) and had a bar and hot showers. Well, warm showers. I had an interesting time trying to get dressed in the shower stall between the dripping showerhead (which left me 12" between the stream of water and the curtain) and the boys that were waiting in the room for the showers. (Maybe I was using the boys room? Who knows...) The rest of the day was spent hanging out in the bar area (warm and dry!!) and talking to the rest of my group.

Day Four: Race to the Sun Gate
Awake at 3:50am. Hiking by 4:20. There was a short hike to a control point, where all the groups line up for access to the final stretch of the Inca trail, the 6km to the Sun Gate. There were maybe 20 people ahead of us, and we hung out there on the trail until 5:30 when the control point opened. And we were off. I dont know where the sense of urgency came from, but it was a dog eat dog single file race. A couple girls from the group ahead of us stopped to take a picture. Pass them. Someone stopped to rest. Weakness. Pass them. The hike took about an hour, and after one particularly vicious climb, we reached it. The Sun Gate. Machu Picchu is visible in the distance (still about 3km away), and all the groups crowd on the small landing and fight for space to pose for a picture. Then we hiked the last little bit (packs are so much lighter when you can see your destination) and spent the rest of the day exploring. The aftermath? I´m dirty. Very dirty. Havent had a real hot shower in over 5 days. My calves still feel like they are being stabbed by 13 knives. I have yet to shake the chill from being wet and cold for so long, and 9 kilos of clothes are at the laundromat getting cleaned. Maybe some cuy (guinea pig, local delicacy) and a drink at the local irish pub tonight with the Irish couple from the trek will make me feel better.

In summary: Hard. Very Hard. Worth it? Definitely. Advice? Hire the porter.

The Peruvian Weight Loss Plan

2009-01-15T18:14:00.002-05:00

Acai is a thing of the past. The Peruvians have come up with the ultimate weight loss plan for gringos. It is commonly known as altitude sickness. The symptoms: Headache, mild diarrhea, nausea, and stomach cramps. So, through a combination of anorexia (the thought of food makes my stomach turn) and bulimia (I wont fill in the details on that one), it is a surefire way to drop a few pounds.

It all started on the 22 hour bus ride up to Cusco (3200 m) from Lima (0 m). Things were going okay for the first 12 hours or so, and then around 6am both Sterling and I started to feel a bit weird. Things rapidly went downhill, and when we finally got in Cusco at 4pm we both thought we were close to death. Well, maybe not that bad, but it was bad. We surrendered to one of the taxi drivers touting his hostel at the bus station (I never do that) and let him take us to town. After a cup of Coca Tea (coca leaves are the base of cocaine, local remedy for altitude sickness, or just about anything, really), we were feeling a bit better. Never the less, we passed out at around 5:30pm and slept until 7am. We have both been having symptoms ever since the bus ride. Climbing a short set of stairs makes me pant. I get nervous whenever a bathroom is more than 50 m away. Hopefully things clear up a bit before we start the Machu picchu trek tomorrow at 4am. The first day of the hike we gain over 1000 m to an elevation of 4200 m. The way I see it, things can only go up from here. :-)

As a side note, it only took three days for my pedometer to fall off. It is now somewhere in the streets of Cusco. A little sad, but I think the reading was already all sorts of messed up from the bumping on the bus ride, so it would be cheating to claim all those 'steps'.

Lima, Peru

2009-01-12T17:02:00.006-05:00

Safe and sound in Lima.
Odometer: 22552 steps (I wonder if the turbulence affected the reading...)

My flight from Austin to Lima (Austin to Dallas, Dallas to Fort Lauderdale, Fort Lauderdale to Lima, travel time: 17 hours) took off at 6:45am. I was on my way, and looking the part. My bag ended up weighing 28 lbs, not too bad. The plan was to meet my friend Sterling (who was coming to travel in Peru with me) at baggage claim since his flight landed 10 minutes before mine. It ended up being an hour late. When he finally got in, we went to claim his bag, and it was a no show. Apparently it was still in Newark, New Jersey. By the time we finally got all of that mess handled, it was about 1:30 at night. Finally got a taxi back to the hostel and knocked out. Today we spent wandering around Lima, exploring the Miraflores district and trying to track down Sterling´s bag. We are on a 5:30pm bus tomorrow to Cusco (17 hours) for the Machu Picchu trek. Hopefully he gets ahold of it before then. He might get a bit unpleasant smelling on a four day hike with one Tshirt and no toiletries.

Before I left I had a few friends tell me that Mariel is a very common Latin American name...for men. Apparently for hotels, too.

The Pedometer Project and Projected Route

2009-01-06T18:11:00.006-05:00

Among the somewhat embarrassing amount of gear I have researched and purchased the past few weeks for this trip (and let me tell you, it's a lot) is a pedometer. It counts up to 1,000,000 steps and is supposedly one of the most accurate pedometers on the market. The plan is to wear it the whole time I'm on my trip, just to satisfy my curiosity as to how many steps I will take in seven months of wandering. A mile is 5,280 feet. My stride is approximately 2.5 feet long, so there are about 2112 steps per mile. My goal is to roll the pedometer over at least once (which would be 473.5 miles). At the top of each following post, I will state my current "odometer reading".

As for my route...I have only loosely come up with a plan. Originally I was going to spend a few months living in Chile, but I have abandoned that idea for the lofty goal of making a complete overland

circuit of the continent. Starting in Lima, Peru, crossing into Bolivia and traveling down the spine of the Andean Mountains into Argentina. Crossing into Chile to see Santiago before heading down the coast and into the Chilean side of Patagonia (the southern tip of the continent, some of the most extreme weather in the world). Working my way east into the Argentinian side of patagonia, and then making a B-line for Buenos Aires. From there, a quick ferry over to Uruguay, then back to Argentina for a border crossing into Brazil. Up the Brazilian coast to Rio de Janiero and a few other cities before heading into the heart of the Amazon for some rain forest adventures. From there, a short 27 hour bus ride brings you to Caracas, Venezuela. Along the northern Caribbean coast and crossing into Columbia, then Ecuador, and finally back to Lima, Peru where I will catch my return flight to the states on July 31st. I'm going to hit all but four countries (Paraguay, Guyana, French Giana, anad Suriname).

That being said, given the nature of the trip, my plans mean nothing. So we'll just have to wait and see.

The Countdown

2008-12-27T17:22:00.003-05:00

In something like 14 days (13 hours, 31 minutes, 22 seconds) from now, I will be leaving for South America on a seven month backpacking trip.

Why? Why South America? I think this exerpt from the Lonely Planet Guidebook sums it up better than I could:

"South America kicks out unforgettable experiences on the road. In fact, some would argue the road is the experience. In South America, it's never short on challenge. But that's what makes it South America. Travel here is about struggling awake for a dawn departure after being kept up all night by a blaring soccer game. It's about sucking dust on a long bus ride while manically trying to guess which of the towns you keep passing through is the one you intended to visit. It means peaceful relief when you finally arrive and find you pack still on the roof. It's the sight of begging children, the arduous haul to the hostel, a screaming bladder, and the excitement of a new town all catapulting your mind from one emotional extreme to another. The hotel manager says the showers are hot, but the water hitting your back is as cold as a Patagonian glacier. There's no seat on the toilet. (At least the bowels are behaving.) You call the a fan? It sounds like a helicopter! OK-food. Leave the pack in the corner, get out the map, locate the market, grab the passport (or leave it behind?) and go. The sun feels great. Then you get lost, your mood turns sour and your blood sugar crashes, you find the market, smell the mangos, and you try to haggle but have no clue what the fruit seller is saying. You finally hand over the cash-did you get ripped off?-and walk out to find a good place to eat. And when you do, it's sheer and incomparable bliss."

I love traveling.