Ancud, Chiloe, Chile: Visions of PEI danced above their heads

By ferry and bus to Ancud, the largest town on the archipelego of Chiloe, and ringing in with about 40,000 people. It is a quiet little town with tons of wood houses painted different colours and all in varying states of decay due to the damp, wet weather which frequently envelopes the island.

Of course we weren´t spared an introduction to this weather, as we arrived in blowing winds and a type of rain that spares nothing from its damp and wet fingers. Everything gave up being waterproof including our rain jackets and pants, probably a sign of what is to come on the island and as we head south along the coast.

We gave up on camping and hunkered down in a hostal complete with a hostal grandma who has spent most of the time jabbering away in Spanish, regardless of the fact that we have told her a few times to slow down. She persists, saying we can talk fine, and we persist with our ¨si, si¨whenever she talks to us (most of the time she is just asking if everything is fine and the other times she is asking if we are going to the island nearby with lots of penguins).

It feels like we have stepped back in time... the island is pretty rural and the houses are beautiful in their technicoloured peeling paint. Modern cars ply the roads, but people with small boxes selling fish and produce line the streets and the occasional sheep tied up beside the ESSO station attest to its rural roots. The harbour is cute and the boats are painted bright colours and stand out like beacons in the mist and rain.

We want to travel to a few other towns on the island and then catch a ferry to the south... however traveling on the island is easier said than done.. We spent the morning visiting the bus terminal and a few other ¨bus stops¨ which involves a lot of asking locals and checking the rumoured stopping points of buses. Finally, we found a bus meeting point, which it seems none of the locals we asked knew about.... it was on the third floor of the supermarket.. which seemed like a mistranslation when we heard it...

But upon reaching the third level of the supermarket we realised that there was a small ramp which enabled buses to climb to the third floor parkade. Filled with diesel fumes there were a variety of buses, all leaving Ecuadorian style, kind of whenever, wherever, except not with the frequency. The buses kind of leave when they want like Ecuador, except if you miss that bus, there isn´t one in 30 min like in Ecuador, maybe if you are lucky in three hours or so, but then again, you can´t really be sure when it is leaving because it also kind of leaves whenever...

Tranquilo, tranquillo..... so we may end up in Achao tomorrow (which is where we want to go).. but then again we may not because there is only one bus....

In the mean time we hope to enjoy some seafood, enjoy the shingles and vernacular wooden architecture of the houses and the islands famed churchs... and along the way we hope to catch a ferry, before we get trapped on the island for another week.

Puerto Montt: Port Town Blues

Another bus ride come and gone, except to get to Puerto Montt from Bariloche we were once again to cross back into Chile, and thus with every border crossing we cringe, waiting for some mix up, adventure or otherwise hellish time getting through. Not so with this one.

We bought our ticket from one of the more dodgy looking offices. When we say dodgy we don´t mean like Peru dodgy, but we mean that there is an office and a computer and electronic tickets, it just isn´t as glossy as some of its competitors in Chile. We bought our ticket, still hoping for the best, and the best we did get... What service! They filled out all of our border crossing forms in advance and organised the line ups efficiently and quickly... it was a breeze and quite unexpectedly, we found ourselves in Puerto Montt amidst circling touts and gloomy skies.

They tell us the spring and summer here in the south of Chile and on the coast has been especially dreery and overcast, and we were not spared this when arriving in Puerto Montt. We got touted by a New Yorker who has a family house and a few rooms... upon a tip from her that it was cheap night at the movies we ended up seeing Todos Los Hombres Del Rey (All the Kings Men) in english, while smacking our lips for popcorn drizzled not in butter (we forgot that in Chile they pretty much only eat sugar coated corn and we were a little disapointed).

We shopped in the malls that have sprung up to cater to the tour boats and cruise ships that come through and we stocked ourselves up on gators and a tarp for what is sure to be some hikes in the rain to come. (The Patagonias are known for some wet, rainy and windy hiking... but we hear spectacular none the less).

The town runs along a main strip that pretty much transforms itself from run down market shops to trying to be nice malls and shopping stores. Produce abounds on the streets and even outside the big grocery stores. It is surprising that even though so many cruise ships and boats stop in Puerto Montt, it stills has quite the shaddy aura to it, and although it was a pleasant enough, we couldn´t help being reminded of some parts of Peru, Ecuador and Bolivia... which is fine enough on its own for us... but for some people who say ¨This is Chile, it is suposed to be civilised¨(we are quoting here from someone who will remain anonymous) and also for those who would be coming off a cruise ship it had a little different flavour from what we had expected..

After shopping and sending another package in the mail we quickly jumped a bus that was due to leave two minutes prior for the island of Chiloe.

Christmas: Jo, Jo, Jo...Tienes Nog?

Christmas Eve in Bariloche. We (Justine and the two Chris´) spent the day out hiking. The bus to the trail head, to our surprise, was following its regular schedule all day long. So, by 11am, we were at the bus stop waiting; having already had breakfast, showered, gone to the supermarcado for lunch stuffs, and buying food for Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas morning breakfast, and Christmas dinner.

The bus ride took an hour, and the route passed along the lake front. Bariloche is an up and coming resort town. The place is inundated with hostals, hotels and bed and breakfasts. Although it is situated in the most picturesque setting: beautiful blue lake, surrounded by pristine forest and majestic mountains, it is hard to believe that all the buisnesses are able to survive.

We spent the day hiking Cerro Lopez. The trail up was steep to start, but ended up following a switch back road for half the distance ending at a refugio. The refugio is situated beneath granite spires covered in snow, with an amazing view of the lake and surrounding area. We spent some time enjoying the view then trudged back to the trailhead to await the passing bus.

Christmas Eve here is a little bit bigger than Christmas, but being that we were staying in a hostal full of Israelis, two muslims and us, there really wasn´t much of a ¨festive¨feel going on. It was kind of fun explaining to people what Christmas is all about, as many of the people at the hostal had never celebrated or talked really with people who celebrated Christmas. We played a few Christmas carols from our Ipod and went for a walk just before midnight. A lot of families and locals go out and have dinner at restaurants and celebrate Christmas out to dinner or for a drink. We missed the throngs of people though, as another part of Argentine nightlife is also that things don´t really get going until well after midnight, and then they go all night.

Christmas morning dawned sunny and as warm as can be on a giant lake at 1000m plus. We would love to say it was a wonderful Christmasy moment, but the truth is, it really could have been any other day. We had mamosas at breakfast and otherwise slept in and have relaxed today. We bought a few chocolates at the ubiquitous chocolate shops in town (as it turns out a lot of stores are open in the afternoon of Christmas day) and in the place of a roasted chicken we are going to have milanesa, which is a breaded flattened chicken and some ravioli. Cooking can be a bit of a shoving match as some of our hostalmates can be quite different from the Canadian way of cooking and living. ... so we are enjoying a chilled, relaxed and otherwise really, really low key Christmas this year.

Merry Christmas to all from Argentina.

Bariloche: Lakes, Mountains, Chocolate...Ompa Lompas??

We left San Martin on the 23rd hoping to arrive in Bariloche in time to be able to find a hostal to hole up in until after Christmas. It was another bus ride, that was supposed to be filled with exceptional views for three hours and 45 minutes.

We had read about it in our travel guides and even flirted with the idea of sending our packs ahead to Bariloche, renting bikes and dedicating two days to riding the route. It didn´t take long in the bus before we were happy that we didn´t opt for the bikes. It was very cloudy and rained almost the entire trip. And, to top it off, the route was gravel and under construction. On a nice day, it would have been spectacular.

We arrived in Bariloche, and were immediately struck by its uncanny resemblance to a Canadian Ski Resort town. This city would fit nicely in Banff or Jasper. The stores are stocked with everything the deserning outdoor shopper could want. But what makes it even better, is that Bariloche is known for its Chocolatierias. They seem to be on every street corner, selling fresh, homemade Chocolate.

Without much trouble, we found a hostal. Chris, from Seattle, decided to join us for Christmas, so, the three of us are sharing a dorm room in a hostal filled with non-Christmas celebraters. The hostal, as so many down here, seems to be vacated predominantly by Isrealies.

With that worry out of the way, we headed out to do some window shopping. It isn´t too hard to imagine that we did end up in a Chocolate Shop. And what a shop it was. We stepped through the doors expecting a quaint little shop, but were awestruck to find ourselves in what can only be described as a grocery story utterly dedicated to Chocolate. We can now say that we understand the term: "Like a kid in a candy store!"

We went out for dinner that night at a local restaurant. Our dining party included us as well as Chris 2, an Isreali couple, and two Muslim girls from Alabama. We were surprised that there were very few lulls in the conversation, and the evening was filled with stories, laughter and joking. If Christmastime could be and is about people coming from the world over together for good conversation and a nice time, then this was it.

To end the night, the Chris´ stopped off at a gringo pub for a night cap. To their utter amazement, they met two guys from Dawson City that were sitting beside them at the bar. Lets say it again, it´s a small world.

San Martin de Los Andes: Chris One, Chris 2

We are now three, or at least two, that is two Chris´. One of our co-taxi people trying to get to San Martin happened to be another Chris, Chris from Seattle. So we are now in San Martin de Los Andes enjoying more rain, except this time with high winds.

We treated our selves (Chris 1 and Justine that is) to a nice steak dinner and homemade pasta at a restaurant. We invested in a nice bottle of wine to top off the meal and still only paid about the equivalent of 30 USD... and the steak, although not flavourful was amazingly tender... .not something we can really explain in a blog, but people, you are definitely missing out and the stories of Argentinian beef are definitely true.

Today was spent perusing camping stores and gazing at all of the chocolate shops and rizty ski and hiking shops, full with Mountin Hardware, Arcyterix and other pricey goodies.

We did what we thought would be a nice day hike up to a look out... but it only took about
30 minutes and there were kids at the top looking for 1 peso to enter the ¨mirador¨. Still it was a nice hike with some fine views of the lakes and mountains, of course all obscured by the clouds and freshened by the winds.. but nice enough.

Now we are off to do some more window shopping once siesta is over. Tomorrow we head to Bariloche and will probably remain there until after Christmas..

Pucon: The Old Man is Snorring

Pucon... we are convinced we have timewarped into Canada, because parts of Pucon feel as if they could be torn out of a book on Canada, with the downtown being like Banff and the small lake reminding us of Ontario.

We arrived amidst more rain and quikly abandoned our hope of camping to save money, we got touted in a hurry and took a place right beside the bus station, which is usually against our policies, but worked out amazingly because the owner was overly friendly. We enjoyed a run of the house and kitchen and enjoyed a yummy breakfast to boot.

Days were spent lazing around the city and attempting to avoid getting wet by the showers moving in and out. At times we would spy some of the snow at the base of the GIANT volcano which is covered in snow and towers over the town. Actually, we don´t really know if it towers, we ended up only seeing it at a distance, when we were out of town for a day when it cleared temporarily.

So finally after waiting and waiting for the rain to clear we caught a weather report that claimed sun was to sort of shine on Dec.19 and 20 so we bought our bus ticket, prepared our food and hoped. We woke up on the 19 to rain and it basically didn´t stop all day long. This was not to stop us and we headed out to Parque Huerquehay (Where-Kay-Way) to do a two day hike.

Hike... more like a Slop.

Rain, rain, rain and lots and lots of mud. There were a lot of falls and slips, some cursing and some serious contemplation of turning back. But persevere we did and we huddled in our tent, shivering and contemplating the great mystery of the Monkey Puzzle Trees we had passed under that day.

Also known as Araucaria, it is a native tree to Chile that grows a spiky bark and branches. They reach awesome heights and have a really funky outline and canopy. Since it was completely socked in we could see their outlines from time to time on the hills and mountains surrounding us.

The second day dawned with sun and we quickly pulled out our clothes and gear to dry them in the searing sun. Soon we were plodding our way through the still muddy trail back to the trailhead. The trail actually continues in the opposite direction towards hot springs, but we just wanted a two day hike so we looped back to Pucon. The day was spent viewing the hills and mountains of the park covered in the different trees of the region. In the distance (and this is where we saw the volcano) we could see the MASSIVE cone of Volcan Villarrica smothered in snow and spiking the clouds in the distance.

Beyond it we could see more showers moving in from the west, and by the time we got to Pucon it was raining again. Needless to say with a forcast for much the same in the next week we opted to hop the next bus out across the border to Argentina to San Martin de Los Andes. This proved to be a more difficult thing than we imagined because for some reason or another that will remain one of those SA mysteries, there is a bus every single day except for the one we wanted. Luckily there were 9 of us that wanted to go, and the power of a group shone through those dark and dreary skies... and faster than you can say P.Diddy we had a van to take us to the border and three taxis to take us to Junin and a bus to take us to San Martin... our easiest border crossing to date.... and the most scenic as we passed right below the bemuth of a volcanoe on route.

Valdivia: Big Daddy Sea Lion

From Santiago to Valdivia on the top floor of a two story bus and with the front windows to boot. All seemed good, as we were enjoying the smooth highway, that if we blinnked and missed the spanish road signs might have led us to believe we were in Canada. ....All was going well until the bus broke down in the middle of the night, but we mostly slept through the banging and whiring going on under the bus.

We arrived in Validivia in between rainstorms and quickly plopped down in a hostal and got our bearings. We were in Valdivia mostly for one reason and that was to wander the fish market, not in search of dinner but to see the sea lions which beach themselves on the docks ready for scraps. And scraps there were, and so many that the sea lions were actually being picky about which scraps they took. And these boys aren´t shy either, they will come right up to the merchants, and as we found, even Chris when he is standing in a sunny spot perfect for sleeping. These big boys sit and eat fish all day and then sun themselves when they are tired....Chris was jealous.

We ran into our Aussie-Kiwi friends Martin and Katherine who we first met on the Inka Trail and have run into again in Potosi, Salar de Uyuni and now in Valivia. They had rented a car and are on their way to Puerto Montt to take the ferry. Would have loved to join them, but the ferry (five day ferry down through the fijords, glaciers and mountains of the Southern Patagonians) was a wee bit out of our price range, being that this is the high season for people in the south.

We parted ways and went for a drink at the Kunstmann brewery... yes Kunstmann.. and they have excellent honey lager. The rest of the day alternated between rain and sun and we enjoyed some hake and salmon while overlooking the fish market in its last and brief moment of sun.

Valparaiso: Hilly Technicoloured HillTown

Yesterday we took a day break from the bustle of Santiago and headed about 2 hours by bus to the ocean coast town of Valparaiso. It is a bustling city port which is nestled in the foothills of the Andes and overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

City buildings climb the hills painted bright colours and a lot of them with excellent views to the harbour, the ocean and the beach city of Vina del Mar in the distance. Most of the buildings are clad in metal siding and are painted everything from yellow, blue, pink and every colour inbetween. Graffity seems to be comissioned as it covers many walls in beautiful multi-coloured scenes.

Hills and the buildings covering them are accessed via funicular-like elevators that have been running for over 100 years. You pay about 20cents for a ride up or down the elevators and exploring the city by foot and elevator, turned out to be an excellent and enjoyable day. The city is quirky and has proved to be one of our favorite excursions to date.

Santiago: Big City Timewarp

From the dirt roads of Bolivia to the paved order of Santiago. Well it seems like order, compared to what we are used to.... Santiago is big (around 5Million people) and there is smog and traffic, but it is all so familiar, it feels like we could be in Toronto, except warmer.

Prices are higher here.. gone are the under 1 CAD meals, now they are around 4CAD. Eating cheaply means a hot dog or a slice of pizza, which isn't really what we want to be consuming for the next three months, so the budget is transforming.

Santiago has many interesting neighbourhoods from university type scenes to modern skyscrapers and colonial buildings. It lies right at the foot of the Andes and the bus ride through the mountains and across the border was spectacular, reminding us a lot of the Rockies back home, complete with lingering snow packs and rocky terrain.

We spent a few days just in Santiago wandering and enjoying traffic lights, throngs of people Christmas shopping, sidewalks, a subway system (WOW), and stores galor.

We are staying in a small hostal that was the cheapest we could find and still works out to over 10 USD per person for a dorm bed. But, and there is a big but, hostals here aren't about a daily struggle for a trickle of water in the shower. No, no, free internet, huge breakfast, 900 movies to choose from, pool table, free laundry(not just a sink here folks, the machine, and they trust you to use it), Xbox, on and on.... Don't know if this will be true for the rest of Chile but if we have to pay the big bucks, it is nice to get a bit back in return....

That being said we head south soon and the camping begins...

Mendoza: Is this still S America?

One day in Salta, and we were on the road again. We booked a bus to head for Mendoza, about 1200km south, and our gateway to Chile.

As we previously stated, the bus cost us a small fortune, but we were extremely overwhelmed and impressed with it. The seats looked like the first class seats on Air Canada, the windows were huge and clean, there was TP in the baño, and there was an unpresidented lack of the smell of B.O. (But we must note, everyone has raved about the buses in Chile and Argentina, how amazing they are and how punctual... 2 out of 2 buses so far for us have been late even arriving at the terminal to load, let alone leaving... so we shall see).

The highways in Argentina are superb! They are paved, relatively straight, and at times even divided! Our trip to Mendoza was great and included 3 movies, snacks, and a very delicious dinner service as well as breakfast this morning.

We arrived in Mendoza this morning at 9am and had to give our heads a shake. To start with, the bus depot was unreal. There is really no other way to describe it; it is reminisant of an airport back in Canada, with electronic shops, restaurants, bars, newstands, you name it... From there we headed off to find our hostal, it is equipped with a garden area with a ping-pong table, computer use, a living room area with cable TV and a kitchen that serves a free breakfast. (Although, gone are the days of less than 4CAD each for a private room).

After a shower we headed out to explore the city. There is no way to really describe how absolutely amazing the transformation that took place when we crossed the border. It doesn´t just feel like we are in another country, we literally feel as though we have teleported forward in time. Needless to say, we are again in a larger city center, but the resemblence to Europe or even N American cities to a certain extent is uncanny after the last 3 months of travel.

We found ourselves strolling down streets with unbelievalby wide sidewalks, monsterous trees providing shade, sidewalk cafes filled with people, cars that have mufflers.... We now know what Dorthy was feeling like when she said, "I don´t think we are in Kansas anymore, Toto."

It was strange not to see a pig or donkey or llama grazing at the parks. And the people were not constantly trying to sell us something, or just staring. And we saw no one dressed in flowing skirts or with the pork pie hats.

Although the city is a reprise from what we have been living for the last few months, there is not much to do here other than wander the streets and relax, and considering that we have relized we have less than 3 months left here. We have decided that we are going to be moving on tomorrow. Our plans are to either head right to Santiago tomorrow, or stop off in the town of Uspallata (the location for Brad Pitt in "Seven Years in Tibet") for a day or two beforehand.

Salta: ¨Civilisation¨ at Last

8 hours south of the border and 10 hours south of Tupiza, and it feels like we are in another world. You can tell instantly the difference in the Argentine economy. From the bus stations, to the cars, to the way people dress, to how much a hostal costs, you can tell we are in a city, but not just a city like La Paz was a city, but a city in a country with a bit more moola.

Salta is a pleasant place with tree lined parks, wide sidewalks and colonial architecture. It is a place that has a familiar feel to it and it is hard to place exactly where that comes from. You feel like less of an outsider here, which probably stems from the fact that the Spanish influence is felt a little stronger...

Apparently, it was a holiday here, so perhaps we will wake up to chaos tomorrow... but people are a little politer, occasionally a car will pause to let us cross at the corner as opposed to a made dash of whoever is the most macho...

We are now down at 1200m above sea level so the air is warm, even at night.. and it feels kind of like spring as the leaves on some trees are bright green and the birds chirp happily.

We arrived in the middle of the night and as always tried to steer clear of the touts.... who kindly left us alone when we told them we were going elsewhere....We took a cab (with a meter!!) to a proposed hostal... Someway or another (not sure whether it was a miscommunication on their part or ours) we ended up in a dormitory room, thinking we were getting a room with two beds... too tired to care we tiptoed past the sleeping people and attempted to dodge their stuff which was EVERYWHERE and we crashed into bed.

This morning we went to one of the places a tout was recommending and for the same price as both of us in a dormitory we got a room in a really cute hostal... It is way too early to be thinking that touts are different here from elsewhere.. but we can only hope.

We booked a bus for a small fortune (but with no cheap options here) to Mendoza. We will chill the day in Salta tomorrow and then take an 18 hour trip to Mendoza, which for about 50 USD each had better be a palace (apparently it is full cama and you even get a choice of whiskey or wine... we are still jaded Bolivian style so we aren´t expecting anything until it materialises).....

Bolivia-Peru: Memories... like the something, something of your eye

Peru:

Touts: shudder
Machu Picchu: Tourist meca that it is... what an amazing site.
Gringo Trail: Ever so well defined it is both a blessing and an encomberance
Desert: Not exactly how we pictured so much of Peru, but it makes up almost the entire coastline.
Lomo Saltado: Just add some cheese curds and it could be a really wicked poutine
Markets: Your best bet for cheap eats and always iffy on the hygene.
Weavings and Knittings: Amazing quality, design and colour
Shoeshine Kids: Doesn´t matter if you are wearing sandals, they still think they can shine them
Buses: Not quite as easy to pick up as Ecuador, but we are talking longer hauls now, and from seat, to semi cama to cama, they vary widely.
Sopa: So much better in the north, and how does it always vary so widely?

Bolivia:

Roads: Did we drive on paved roads?? We did, but from river beds to one lane dirt switched back horrors, it is always a gamble.
¨Jeeps¨: aka Toyota Land Cruiser... always of variable health and always stuffed with as many people as they can fit in.
Gringo Trail: We thought it was would be less so in Bolvia, but as it turns out there are a few less people in Bolivia, so you end up seeing people and recognising them even more...
Amazon: We just touched the very tip of it... from fire ants to tarantulas we would love to go back
Rurre: Tranquillo
La Paz Witches Market: You just can´t forget the smell of dried llama fetuses
Empanadas and Salteñas: So cheap, so good... how can something so small make you so sick for so long
South-Western Bolivia: Dirt roads, poverty, small rambleshackle towns, but blessed with amazing mineral and windswept scenery.
Dynamite: Just over 1 USD for a stick... and you can blow it up in that hill over there..
Bolivian Time: Like Peruvian and Ecuadorian time, except 30minutes later.
Pink Toilet Paper: No idea why, but it was bright pink!

Bolivia-Argentina: Border Crossing Glee

The morning of the proposed border crossing started off plensently with a three hour train ride to the border town. Train was late and buying tickets was a bit of a gong show, but cheap tickets were bought and it was defintely decidely less scary than a Jeep ride.

We began our walk from the train station to the border and then did something we knew better than to do, but did anyway... we decided to buy a ticket from the border town to Salta, Argentina (where we wanted to go that night) from an office on the Bolivian side. Argentine buses are a lot more money than their Bolivian counterparts, but come with more frills and paved roads. We were then escorted to the border by the bus company as the bus departed from the other side, something we didn´t really take the time to ask (this is where we knew better). Bolivian side was all gravy, but then we took in the line which snaked and curled around the customs office for Argentina.

With a sigh we got in line and we sat and sat and sat and didn´t move. Our bus was to leave in two hours, but that time slowly dwindled away.... soon other people who had bought tickets from the same company, and were behind us began to complain and bitch... And of course the sqeeky wheel gets the grease and they were the first gringos (of a country which will remain unamed) to get a lesson in the politics of the border.

After they got their express pass through the line... we started to get annoyed and were the typical polite Canadians about it and just cast dirty looks and checked our watches. It finally came down to Justine taking both passports and quietly slipping into the head of the line... which was fine because it wasn´t the gringos holding up things it was locals who seem to require a lot of photocopies and documentation. Both passports were stamped in a matter of one or two minutes..... and then we were waiting in line again to get our bags searched. Apparently, the people who search bags also have to do the dog sniffing of buses etc... So we were waiting again..

Finally, finally three hours later we were through... and our bus had left... Not to worry, another one was leaving in two hours. Then we were told there were no Casa De Cambios (money changers) on this side of the border... they were all back where we had started.. ARG. And without being stamped back into Bolivia, we could not cross...

We managed to get money changed for American Dollars from the bus station (because they all love the dinero from the ol´ US of A), although not at a great rate. Then we sat and waited at a tiny, tiny bus station that was chalk full of people who had just finished stuffing huge sacks full of bras and shirts and toys bought in Bolivia and brought over to selll in some street market somewhere. It was chaos, people were sitting on the ground, both inside and out, and let us tell you the building is not that big... We then realised we over paid for our bus ticket. We are talking 5 dollars each here.. which doesnt sound like much.. but down here that is huge.. and with our budget situation a deal breaker.... but part and parcel of life none the less.

Of course we thought, hay Argentina.. buses are on time and uber nice... so we have heard.

This is still northern Argentina...next to the border with Bolivia...

Our bus was 45 min late, and was the kind of a retrofitted bus, which once held only a handful of people and now could take over 70. Oh well, we thought, at least we get a view... no they had decalled the bus and our seat had a decal that you had to strain to see over.

But lets not complain here because every border crossing is an adventure.... and after an 8 hour bus ride we were in Salta... and it feels a world away from 8 hours north!!!

Tupiza: Butch Cassidy and the SuperKid

So we cowpoked our sore asses through five hours of horseback riding.... for the low, low price of around 20 CAD. Our trusty steads Sanchez and Rosario plodded and galloped through amazing scenery of rich mineral red mountains, grey erroding mountains, rock pillars and cliffs.

It was beautiful and peaceful, as it is clearly off season in Tupiza and we only saw a few other people. The day included some off time from the horses where you can scramble through a few tighter places to see more rock pillars and phalic like formations.

We came back and took a cool dip in the pool and attempted to numb our butts with beer left over from the Salar trip.

Atocha-Tupiza: River Bed Off´-Roading

Sigh, another early morning lesson in flexibiility.

The plan was ever so simple: we were to catch another Land Cruiser, this time from Uyuni to Tupiza and it was to leave at 5am. We were just going to go the night before to buy the ticket, but our tour agency advised us to buy the ticket before we left for the Salt Plains. So we did. First mistake.

Second mistake we bought with only a few minutes before our tour was leaving so we didn´t actually scope out the other bus companies or trust our gut feeling on the guy selling the ticket, who clearly didn´t know what the hell he was doing.

So we showed up at the bus area at 430am only to find our bus agency closed up and the only two other companies open, claiming the jeep had left the day before in the afternoon. The two touts for the companies both tried to convince us to buy tickets with them and go to Atocha and ask for our money back for the tickets we had at the Company´s office there. Then to go from Atocha to Tupiza... this did not sound like a good idea because this is definitely not Canada and refunds don´t come easily, especially when it is from an office in a different town.

So we opted to stay and figure it out, which would probably mean another night in Uyuni. Finally the one Jeep leaving for Atocha wasn´t going to be full, so they offered to take us for free to Atocha and they would get the cost back for the ticket from our company themselves. After a lot of questions, we figured what the hell...

So we soon found ourselves driving on more dirt roads, squished into another jeep. The dirt roads soon turned to a river bed which was not entirely dry, but seemed to serve as the highway... not sure what happens when rainy season fully hits. Our jeep broke down 1 km from Atocha in the middle of the river just after a rather deep river fjord.... but was soon fixed and we found ourselves in Atocha....

Justine kept a firm grip on the ticket in question and after about a half hour actually had a ticket from Atocha to Uyuni, without having to pay more, no real haggling... it was amazing and completely unbelievable.

Only thing was that their jeep didn´t leave until 10.30am.. Fine.. so we spent three hours playing cards, boggle and yahtzee... all the while listening to the lady in the company talk about what an idiot whoever sold us the tickets in the first place was etc... Personally we still can´t believe she let us go on through.. usually this ends in the tourists being scammed and having to pay more...

But, things were looking up.... however, now instead of the front seats of the jeep we had booked originally, we now found ourselves in the very back. The Land Cruiser can probably normally hold at most 6 people and we now found ourselves 10 people plus the driver. We were ever so pleased to be squished into the back with two seats parallel to the windows, so that four of us had to share leg room and face each other in the very back. The Land Cruiser, as with every vehicle in SA, was of questionable health and for that matter so was our driver, who must have been pushing 70, could barely see over the steering wheel and was the kind of fellow that the Drivers Liscencing office in Ontario would have taken one look, laughed and refused his liscence without a test (the Yukon might have given him one though...). But no, no, that didn´t stop him; our driver appeared to believe he was still a spry young lad and was soon flying over the river bed highway... this was fine and dandy because it was kind of damp and the dust was low.

But then we hit the highlands and were climbing, climbing, climbing.... flying around blind corners, on a single lane dirt road (of course used for double direction traffic) that rivels the Yukon´s worst roads for bumps. The scenery was utterly spectacular passing through high altiplano with volcanoes shrowed in clouds, while swerving past jumping llamas and sheep. Rock outcrops, half erroded flew by and changed from dark grey, yellow to deep red as we dove up and down past cacti and oasis trees. The scenery was terrifyingly amazing and the trip was utterly frightening for many reasons which we shall not name. Lets just say the 4.5hour trip took under 3 hours.

Thankfully we are now safe in Tupiza and relaxing in our hostal with free breakfast and CNN (in english in our room!!!!). There is also a pool.

We are contemplating a horse ride into the amazing scenic badlands of erroded rock pillars, rich mineral mountains and surreal banded rock mountains (who knows maybe we will look for the ghosts of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). But a day or two of chilling here in the one horse town of Tupiza doesn´t hurt... especially because plans are in the works for a change of routes down to the south of SA... but more to come on that later..

Salar de Uyuni: Marfa, Dali and the Llamas

So we could give you the play by play of the three day tour... but it would just make such an amazing trip seem so boring.

The first day of course takes in the Salar de Uyuni, the highest salt plains in the world which occupy 12,000 SKM and even more in the rainy season. They lie at around 3600m above sea level and stretch in every direction into a hallucinagenic world. Mountains and volcanoes lie far into the horizon and appear to float in water above the blindingly white plains. Not white like Jessica Simpson´s teeth or like first snow on Christmas morning, but white like the last white you see before your retina is burned to a crisp. You fly across the salt plains in your jeep, in fact in a convoy of jeeps with all the other tours doing the same stops, and you take in a few salt hotels and processing plants, salt piles (where they collect the salt) and an island of cacti in the middle of the salt flats. In fact the salt plains were once at the bottom of a giant inland sea, and even now the salt forms at the top of a lake which at some points is up to 8m deep. This can be quite dangerous in some parts as the salt is a crusty layer, eerily similar to ice.

From there you drive as fast as you can off the flats, as getting stuck there in the rainy season can result in rain hiding the safe routes and potholes which could maroon your vehicle or send you under the salt crust. Night is spent in basic accomodations, but not before you dodge a few llamas grazing on the sparse grass of the high altiplano.

Following days are spent mostly driving, sucking dirt and attempting to arrange your cramped, crushed legs in some sort of comfortable position. Stops include high alititude lakes with thousands of flamingos, wind and water erroded rocks once at the bottom of the sea and now shaped into buttresses, windows and trees. More fun is found rising at 4am to see bubbling geysers and mud pots in first light and then of course soaking in hot springs while drinking morning beer with your cereal. All the while the other wordly landscape flies by amid the dust as you past red red mountains and deserts of rock. Endangered vicunas are pretty much the only animals that can survive off the sparse grass, and that is when it grows because in many places it is too dry and too high to have anything but rocks.

Our group was pretty good considering and we had fun listening to the same two SA panpipe dance remix cassettes on the tape deck. The Irish lads kept the nights interesting... and surprisingly we all made it back to Uyuni with only one flat tire.

Uyuni: A lesson in flexibility

Our departure from Potosi was to take us to Tupiza, but after some excitement at the bus station, we ended up in Uyuni.

The bus to Tupiza was scheduled to leave Potosi at around 7:30am. So, we arrived at the bus station by 6:20am, but as we entered the station we heard quite the commotion. We saw another traveller that was raising quite the ruckus at one of the ticket counters, and was calling for the tourist police. As we were the only other gringos in the joint, we decided to go and see if we could help her. We soon discovered that she was trying to get to La Paz for a 9pm (that evening) flight that she had to catch, that she had been told at the frontier to go to Potosi as there would be a morning bus to La Paz (no morning buses only night buses). In the process she had left a bag with her camera and some other things on the night bus to Potosi, which when left was then stolen. All this combined with the fact that she wasn´t getting the response from the employees she felt she deserved resulted in a lot of frustration and some tears. After about a half hour, and some translating in Justine´s best attempted Spanish, we managed to help her get a "written" report of her loss on the bus and onto another bus that would connect to La Paz, hopefully getting her there in time for her flight.

After assisting her, we were dismayed to find out that the bus that we wanted was "sold out" of tickets for that morning. All other bus companies that advertised they had buses, did not have a bus that morning. And, the thought of staying in Potosi until 7pm when the next and only bus headed off to Tupiza resulted in us choosing to change our plans and head off to Uyuni.

Our big plans for Uyuni were to do a trip out onto the Salar (Salt Plains). The Salar de Uyuni is the largest salt plain in the world, and we have seen some striking pictures. The trip can be done starting in Tupiza, but most companies start in Uyuni. This is the only reason that tourists end up in this city, and we were quickly aware of this.

We were out and checking out tours rather soon after arriving. As we still had a strong desire to go to Tupiza to check out the scenery there, we were looking to possibly end our trip there. The tour is done in a 4 door Toyota Land Cruiser, with a maximum of 6 tourists, a driver, and a cook all piled in. The Classic Trip is 3 days, and ends back in Uyuni, while the trip that ended in Tupiza is four days. Well, we distressed to discover that in the low season, there is only one company that offers the 4 day tour ending in Tupiza and that with us, they had only 3 confirmed people to make the trip (not enough....needed at least 4).

After some hours of shopping around, and weighing the benefits of agreeing to the 4 day tour, at almost double the price, we agreed to go with it when we were told that they had a 4th person lined up. Uyuni is a small town, and there is only one bank with an ATM. So, we headed over only to discover that we could not get it to work with our cards. We returned to the tour company, and were told that we could pay with Visa for an 8% sur-charge, or that the ATM would be working by 8:30am the next morning, so just leave a deposit. Not confident that the ATM would be working and not willing to pay 8%, we appeared to be quite unhappy with the situation, and therefore not willing to leave the deposit, which we were sure we would not get back if the ATM wasn´t working, or at least would result in us having to wait for a tour as they would not give it back otherwise.

We were at the bank before 8:30, and the machine wasn´t working. We headed back to the agency, to tell them and were also informed that there wasn´t actually a 4th person, and the trip would not be leaving for another day. Needless to say, we were quite happy that we didn´t leave the deposit. So, now the question became, what to do now...all tours leave at 10am.

We scrambled off to the other agencies to find out what we might be able to get on with, and ended up finding a company that we felt good about for about half the price of the 3 day tour(no one had enough people for a four day tour). Again we needed money, and were assured that the bank machine would be working by 9am. So, off we went to try again, but all to no avail. We ended up resigning ourselves to getting a cash withdrawl on our Visa for a 5% sur-charge, but on a lot less money.

Having done all of this, we found ourselves sucking dirt in the back of a Land Cruiser being driven full speed towards the Salar de Uyuni by 11am that morning. Jammed with us were three Isrealies and a Brit along with our driver and a cook, along with another Land Cruiser filled with 7 Irish Lads and their driver.

Potosi: Yet another Worlds´ Highest

So we are writing from Uyuni, and this will be brief because internet is $ here and the keyboard is sticking.

We arrived in Potosi super early, I dont know I guess yesterday, and we promptly slept while the sun was attempting to warm the worlds highest city. After rousing ourselves we had a tasty chifa meal and decided to sign up for a mine tour for that afternoon.

There is not a whole lot going on in Potosi, aside from some nice architecture and cute streets... and the main draw in the huge mountain looming over the city which has since the 1500´s been mined for silver and other minerals. The mines are still very much in use and it is possible to go on tours of the mines. The tour stops off at the miners market where you buy coca leaves and refrescos as gifts to the miners. You can also buy dynamite, to either give to the miners or for your group to blow up. We bought some.

You then get all geared up and down the mines you go. This is no pansy tour, you are in the mines, in some places you can stand, in others you have to crouch. There are many levels and you have to climb down on ladders that seem to disapear into an abyss of blackness below.

It seems like Bolivia has been so far a huge mental game, whether debating to go to the bathroom in the night in the jungle to anaconda hunting in the pampas, and this was no different. You and a head lamp and a long tunnel, which in all likelihood would have been shut down in Canada.

For a little bit of drama we had a Brazilian in our group who had come from sea level but two days ago, and the mere act of walking made him gasp for air... hearing him gasping behind you only heightened the experience. (To note the guide told him he should rest and wait for us but he refused). We watched from a few feet away as the miners used electric and hydrolic hammers to drill holes for dynamite. We looked at dynamite ready to go, and we sat another level up and many meters over and felt the huge shock waves and noise as the blasts went off.

The tour isnt all fun and games and the gifts for the miners are taken seriously and expected. Miners work for 8 plus hours in the deep mines, for a minimal salary. Top people who have worked close to 8 years only get just over 200 USD per month. We saw young people, one only 19 years old working there, they work there because it is more money than shining shoes. We also stopped by the statue of a devil, which every week the miners give coca leaves, cigarettes and other things in return for their safety. Once a year they also sacrifice a llama.

Then once outside we blew up our stick of dynamite at a safe distance.

Now after a long story that shall be explained in the next blog we are in Uyuni. A long day of changed plans and no transport... and they continue here with the bank....

We may be off bloggin for another week.

Selva: The Case of the Machete and the Mogli Man

So a night back in Rurre meant a cold shower, good meal and a night trip to the WC that resulted in a surprise encounter with a trantula in our bedroom.... and then the next morning we were boating down the Rio Beni towards the Amazon jungle.

Our plan was simple, we were to camp in different campsites for three nights, hack our way through the jungle and hopefully learn a little bit along the way. In fact you learn a lot. It seems like everything in the jungle has a use, whether good for you, medicinal, or to kill you: the plants, the animals, the insects are all to be respected.

Our guide Juan Carlos, had grown up in the jungle since he was very little, killing pumas and hunting when most kids in Canada are watching cartoons. With only a machete he can hunt and survive in the jungle, however we had a cook, so there was no hunting required.

We spent the time walking and bushwaking through the jungle learning which trees smell like garlic, which can induce an abortion, which can make your love interest fall crazy in love with you, which can be added to arrows to kill people and which vines, when cut are full of water...

Hundreds of butterflies flit by, creating clouds of colourful movement; in exotic colours, and vibrant hues, some the size of your hand. Always lots of sand flies and moths at night to put a little jingle in your step.

The jungle is less of a flashy scene than the pampas and animal sightings are less common because the jungle is so dense and huge. The being said we saw wild pigs, maccaws, tucans, all sorts of birds, and we saw the tracks of many, many animals. The jungle is more the realm of the imagination, it is never, ever silent, not in the middle of the night, not in the middle of the day. At night you hear wild pigs that sound like giant animals crashing around seemingly next to you, bugs are everywhere and even the tinest ant bite can cause searing pain that feels like your skin is on fire. Birds call throughout the day, yet you have to look hard to see them; animals move around silently and not so silently. In the morning, walking along the river, you see how not alone you really are, puma tracks only 100m from your tents criss-cross the river along with wild tapiers, ocelots, pigs, deers and so on.

The more time in the jungle the more you see.. and the options are endless you can go for 1 to infinite days: building rafts, using bamboo and palm leaves to make shelters, exploring and letting your mind and body return to the wild. Respect is key, here you really feel like you are not at the top of the foodchain, where everything from jaguars to trees to insects can either kill you or cause you serious harm... Definitely a lesson in respect.

We came out with a huge amount of respect, a little bit more knowledge and a hell of a lot of ant and insect bites and a few rashes to boot.

Pampas: Its all about the Free T'Shirt

So the first part of the pampas was an extremely bumpy and dusty experience, probably the most dusty of our drives to date in SA. We spent 4 hours driving to Santa Rosa where we would take a dugout motorized canoe down the pampas. 6 of us plus two guides, a cook and the driver crammed into a 4x4 which slammed and bumped over potholes, and constantly weaved across lanes to the flatest sections of the road. Justine seemed to have the luck of the draw and got so covered in dust we were able to write ¨Clean Me¨on her t'shirt. You will have to take our word for this because someone erased all of their pampas pictures on their camera and we don´t have that photo anymore. (BY ACCIDENT!!! And he apologized a lot)

We stopped for lunch at a tourist restaurant which gave us a taste of the gringo´ised spectacle to come. This restaurant had animals that it was keeping because they were ¨sick or injured¨but were clearly there for tourist show. They had a wild pig, a tucan, parrot and a few other exotic animals mingling with tourists feet for show... Really neat to see a tucan up close, but hard to see animals being kept like this merely for gringo interest.

After that we were soon packing up our canoe in the searing heat and on our way down the pampas. The pampas is like a wetland area, with small rivers moving through mostly flooded grassland and some forest area along the rivers. The major draw of the pampas is the fact that it is still teeming with life, despite the amazing number of tourists that visit it.

What did we see.... what didn´t we see? Well, we didn´t see any Capaberas (although we missed them twice by about a minute), the worlds largest rodent, kind of resembling a beaver sized guinea pig. We saw wild tucans, capuchino monkeys, howler monkeys (just like from Survivor folks, early morning wakeups and all), birds of all shapes and sizes, turtles, aligators, caymans, tarantulas, a cobra, a Yopi snake, anacondas, piranhas, and yes, pink FRESHWATER dolphins.

The tour itself is extremely structured and tailored to people who are less of the bushwhacking type. There were lots of moments where the only conversation would be about who had the most Mozzie (mosquito) bites or if the food was good or not. But these appear to be the key issues for gringos on the tour (The mosquitos were there, that was a fact, but bad??, no I would say most places in Canada have it worse).

We spent one night searching for aligator eyes in the dark, which turned out to be really easy because every 100m or so of the river there seems to be an aligator or cayman. Of course, our guide caught a young one, and although it was for show he was actually quite knowledgeable about the aligator in question.

Time was spent bushwacking and slogging through thigh deep swamp in search of an anaconda. Somewhere between the fact that you are looking for something that is probably under the water you are trudging through, the fact that this water also contains man eating caymans and piranhas and add in that we have all seen way too many Hollywood movies.... from this perspective it seems like a crazy thing to do.

You could also swim with the Pink dolphins, which we opted not to do.. once again same water ...although our guide assured us that the dolphins take care of their young ones and don´t let aligators or snakes into the water near them... But you just can´t stop the imagination, and the water right now is rising and thus has a lot of sediment, and is so black that you can´t even see your hand a few inches from the surface. Besides the dolphins are more swimming away from the tourists than with them.

Early mornings for us were noisy with 6am wakeups from howler monkeys in nearby trees, their screaming sounds like a stormy wind stereotypical to horror movies, the kind that snows people in their houses in the movies for a week. Days were noisy with people complaining about mozzies and lack of cold beer.

The combination of bug spray and sweat leave you feeling completely and utterly dirty. Shower water is straight from the black river, and the toilets only flushed sometimes. Caution must be used at all times; on the way to the W-C Justine came close to stepping on a Yopi snake, one of the more dangerous snakes of the pampas.

If you can ignore the gringos complaining and just sit back and enjoy the non-silence of the bugs, animals and otherwise mysterous noises of the pampas, while watching the black river with its never ending supply of plants floating by, there is something wonderfully exotic and spectacular about the planned and enacted events.

Rurrenabaque: Tranquillo Como 15 Kilo

So a rainy day in LaPaz led to some fears that our military flight with TAM might be a no-go to Rurre, but skies cleared and the flight went off without a hitch. The flight takes off from the TAM military base airport near El Alto (one of the highest airports in the world) and barely skirts over the Cordillera Real, with its dry puma and massive glaciers dizzyingly close below, and just as soon as there were glaciers, the mountains dive down into the blackness of the jungle, stretching into infinity beyond. Thick, black forest, puncutured only by mountains, fully carpeted in foliage and massive brown rivers threading their way to the Atlantic.

From close to 4,000m to 105m above sea level in 45minutes, we also went from around 18 degrees to about 40 or so with close to 98% humidity; the sweat is instantaneous and relentless.

Bags were found and we were soon in a pickup truck bumping the few kilometers to Rurre. The jungle and pampas tours are the bread and butter of Rurre tourism and we were soon found ourselves being courted by agencies hoping we might go with them. We checked into a nearby hotel with lush courtyards of hybiscous trees and palms and wandered the town, which didn´t take long.

We opted to spend one more day in Rurre before deciding on a tour agency. Tour agencies in SA have a tendency to tell you what you want to hear, and so it is worthwhile to do a bit of research and talk to people. The pampas tours can be touristy, so we wanted to make sure our lodge would be farther away from the crowds and the Sun-Set Bar (a bar on the pampas where those who got in over their heads can drown their sorrows with cold beer and pop... and out here, anything cold is heavenly).

Met up with an American named Matt, and we decided to go on the 3 day pampas with Amazonico Tours and the 4 day jungle tour with Flecha Tours.

The rest of our time was spent trying to remain as calm as possible (any extra movements result in more sweat than necessary). Life is hot and sticky here, but the town is really laid back with river stone roads and more motorcycles than cars. Jungle starts pretty much just outside the town and fully blankets rolling mountains, stretching into the nearby National Park Madidi.

A great place to take it easy. Muy tranquillo.

La Paz: World´s Highest Something..

So yet another night bus, this time with the warning to bring any sleeping bags and blankets that you had with you...and it was worth it..

Another night spent passing over 4,000m on high Andean altiplano. We awoke to a brilliantly blue sky, and not a cloud in the sky. We passed Lake Titicaca and the blue of the lake stretched as far as we could see, only to be met by the huge expanse of the blue sky. Blue, not blue like blueberry blue, but blue like deep water diving blue, forever blue, pierced only by the looming jagged peaks of the Cordillera Real in Bolivia. Giant snow capped mountains, choked in glaciers seemed so small and miniscule when sandwiched between blue sky and blue lake patties.

Border crossing was somewhat painless, although there was some walking involved and more form filling out.... Justine, has come down with a cold in combination with her aching knee, so as a result patience is at a minimum in the form filling out department (just also spent two hours trying to send another package via mail to Canada...)

La Paz is an unreal site. You cross more high Andean altiplano with nothin but scrub grass, searing sun and snowcapped mountains, and gradually the bus begins to weave through dirt streets and joven pueblos (shanty towns). Suddenly the shanty towns tumble down a step cliff and the deep gorge of La Paz is revealed. La Paz is the world´s highest capital city (3660m) and is built into a giant canyon ( nearly 5km from rim to rim), built into it yes, but more like a giant carpet that fills the entire ravine, climbs all sides and then covers the rim. Hovering high over the city is the giant mountain of Illimani (6402m), choked in snow and visible clearly through towering buildings and rambshackle houses.

The streets are busy and full of life; markets spread all over the city and anything you want can be found on the sidewalk, from empanadas (stuff dough with potatoes, meat and cheese), stretch cord, knee braces, toothpaste, nail clippers, TP, typewriters, armadillos (stuffed), dried llamas fetuses etc. We are staying near the witches market, which although it is smack beside tourist markets, seems to also cater to locals. Llama fetuses, fur pelts, frogs, herbs, and also miniture models of houses, Gods and other idols can be bought in order to heal yourself or to pray to the Pachimama.

We have spent the last couple of days wandering the streets, grazing on all the kinds of food you can get. We enjoyed a wonderful fruit shake for breakfast, made fresh for .25CAD and tossed back a few empanadas with spicy sauce.

We have booked a flight with a military airline to Rurrenabaque. Rurre is only about a 45 min flight, but it is a 19 hour bus ride which can sometimes double in the rainy season. Coupled with that, you must also take the ¨World´s Most Danerous Highway¨if you are going by bus. So we decided to drop the 100CAD for a flight to Rurre. Only thing is, if it is raining in Rurre the flight will not go because it is only a dirt airfield. Our flight should leave on Friday... here´s hoping..

Tomorrow will be another chill day, possibly with a visit to the zoo and the Valle de la Luna (erroded valley of canyons and pinnacles about 10km from La Paz).

Once you get used to the bustle of life here it is really quite enjoyable. Pushing your way through crowds, eating when and where you want and finding anything your heart desires all in the open, sunny air; once you emerse yourself into all of this, life in the World´s Highest Capital can be alright.

Inka Trail to Machu Picchu: Doin' the Inka Trail Hip Hop with the rest of the RAT RACE

So we made it, although some would say, barely. We hobbled and we hopped, we walked and we ran, we bullied and we almost pushed our way through the trail, past the clouded-in Sun Gate and to the mystical lost city of Machu Picchu.

We booked the cheapest tour we could find in Cusco, so we were kind of wondering exactly what we would be getting as we left Cusco at 6am with 7 other gringos, 4 porters, a cook and two guides. We took a mini van to Ollantaytambo, weaving through misty rolling mountains and stopping to buy walking sticks and breakfast. We decided to splurge on walking sticks (bambo sticks with a woven top cover and strap for your hand), which worked out to be a good idea (more on that later). From there it was a dirt road weaving across train tracks and farmland to the trailhead at KM82.

Instead of leaving right away, stoves and a table were taken out and we were served spaghetti and soup with tea... looking like saving $200 ea would be alright. We got our tickets, passed our first check point and started out on the trail. The first day started by crossing the River Urubamba and mostly wove through semi/arid terrain and farm land. We passed a few ruins below in the valley, some recently restored, but with some nice examples of Inkan terracing.

Our first night was spent at the campground of Wayllabamba. This is definitely rainy season and the first day was spent navigating through rain patches and sun. Rain at night, although not too much, left the air damp as we started out on the second day.

We lost an older couple, one of which had heart surgery a few years back and they turned around, after finding the first day of some minor uphills a little difficult. The second day included an elevation gain of over 1,000 vertical metres, followed immediately by a descent of that much. All was well for the first couple of hours of the asscent, as it was somewhat tiresome at over 3000m above sea level, but being acclimatised definitely feels good now.... anyway all was well until two rocks planted themselves firmly around Justine's ankle and combined with rain and a freak raincoat accident, Justine was left with a knee that had dislocated then relocated itself in a rather painful manner. Not much more will be said about this incident, except for the fact that walking was a bit of an issue after this point, which is why it was quite fortuitous that we bought walking sticks....

So from here there was still about 500m climb on what was now the old Inka trail of rocks and rock steps. Now don't you worry, the climbing actually turned out to be a hell of a lot easier than descending and Justine was soon hobbling her way past all the others on the trail who were weezing their way to the top of Dead Woman's Pass at 4,250m. Then the fun began as we descending into the misty clouds, down, down, down to our second campsite at Pacaymu. This took forever, and just about all those weezers on the way up flew by us on the way down.. but we damn well made it.

Interlude: Machu Picchu itself was rediscovered in 1911 after being forgotten by most except for a few farmers for hundreds of years. After it was rediscovered it was eventually cleaned up and as the years progressed with its fame it became a HUGE tourist attraction. There are two ways of reaching Machu Picchu, either via the Inka Trail or via the Tourist town of Aguas Calientes and then by bus up the mountain. The Inka Trail became such a meca because not only do you traverse an old Inka road and many old Inkan ruins, but approach the city of Machu Picchu from a the fabled sun gate. Consequently through the 1980's a lot of people were using the trial and it was becoming heavily degraded with people's usual nasty garbage and general disrespect. As a result a few years ago the Peruvian government stepped in and heavily sanctioned the trail. You are no longer able to hike solo the trail, but must go in a guided group. Porters are limited in the weight they can carry and so on and so forth. Now only 500 people (including porters, guides and cooks) can enter the trail each day. That is still a hell of a lot of people per day, imagine what it was like before....(The Inka trail is usually in a state of being fully booked from May-Sept).

Anyway back to the trail...

So now there are washrooms instead of just people doing their thing wherever whenever, and of course our campsite was one of the farthest away from the washrooms (about a 1.5min walk... this took Justine 10mins). The campsite is beautiful, nestled between mountains and overlooking a steep valley down to cloudforest and snowcapped mountains.

After another night of rain most people in our group woke up wet (except us...somehow), although we woke up to clear skies. We were soon on our way trudging upwards, once again Justine making mince meat out of most people on the uphill. We stopped to take in the ruins of Runkuraqay on the way up, then down, down, up, up to the ruins at Sayacmarca, down, down, up, down, down, down, down past the ruins at Puypatamarca and on to the ruins at WinayWayna and our campsite for the third night. The day was spent mostly hiking through jungle like conditions and cloudforest, and once again rain thrown in for good measure. Despite it all, and given our early start times we were always some of the first people at the ruins, and they are beautiful to see sitting high in the mountains surrounded by cloud, mist and tropical forest. It is also fun to watch the different group dynamics as some people are clearly there to check MACHU-PICCHU, MACHU-PICCHU off the list (say it with them, like some half crazed, pumped up, frat football team) as they run the trail in parts, and glaze past ruins.

The last campsite is basically a big party where the porters and cook try to smooze you into a tip with one nice last meal.. and their are beers to buy and hot showers to pay for and of course a stereo system pumping. Despite all that, it was an early night for us with another attempt at icing the knee with cold water in an MSR bladder and given that we had to be up at 4am. We went to bed in a tent with the fly already plastered wet to the inside of the tent, leaking from the top and sitting immediately in a spill way of water coming down from the hill above. We trenched and hoped for the best and given it poured most of the night, still ended up only slightly damp.

Interlude: Lets just say a quick something about porters. They are amazing. Most of them hike the entire trail in sandals made out of recycled tires. Most of them do not have proper packs or gear and their pack consists of a few bags wrapped around their sholders supporting their up to 20kg loads (the most they are allowed the carry). They have to carry their own gear, and will often have to sleep on the ground in the cook tents once the gringos have called it an evening. They often run the trail, and infact there is an annual race in September where the record time for running the trail is 3hours and 45min (The entire trail to Macchu Picchu is just under 45km in distance with much vertical gain and loss!!). See porters resting below.

Back to the trail...

We were up and in line for the check point at 5am... we were still about 3 or 4 groups back at that point and the checkpoint didn't open until 5:30am. In the meantime Justine popped a few Advils and anit-inflammatories as our guide wrapped her knee up....Then we passed the checkpoint and the RACE WAS ON. People were running, people were fast-walking, people were pushy and rude, passing, cutting off, not letting people by...It was a RAT RACE which we are disgustedly delighted to say we took part of...... it was raining, it was misty.. the trail passes steep drop offs and more jungle on its way to the Sun Gate.....And of course Justine and Chris led the way on our group.. determined not to let any more people pass them and to hopefully pass a few more on their way.....

Being among the first 10 or so people to rat race their way to the Sun Gate, only to find it was more like the Cloud Gate.... no view of Machu Picchu to be found, it was socked right in....So we hobbled and hopped down to Machu Picchu and explored the ruins in the fog and mist wondering why our guide was telling us to get photos now, even though it might clear later. .... Oh but we found out...

After our guided tour we climbed up the terracing (let us tell you the terracing is out of this world, climbing steep hillsides, so beautiful and practical to see) and waited as the clouds slowly but surely lifted more and more.... and as the clouds slowly lifted the tourists trickled in with every cloud that left....And we all waited, waited, waited for our prized Machu Picchu classic shot... But Oh was it worth it.

Seeing the city perched in the clouds, high above towering cliffs and jungle is a sight in itself that cannot be forgotten. No wonder the tourists come, Machu Picchu is beautiful. Fresh and green from the rain, its terraces spill down the steep mountain faces to cliff drop offs. Temples and old buildings sit silently and with reflection beneath soaring mountain peaks and cliffs covered in lush green jungle. Mind you, soon the site was not only bathed in green of plants, but the red, yellow, blue of ponchos and tourist coats... You have to be artful, you have to be cunning if you want the shots without the tourists, and most of all you have to be lucky. You have to out race the best of them on the trail, and then be lucky enough for it to be clear, to get your shots... and even then the check point on the trial opens at 530am and the trail takes about 40min-60min to fast walk to the Sun Gate..... and they start letting people in to Machu Picchu at 6am.. so even if you race.. they are racing up from below....

We spent what time we could exploring, chasing llamas through the ruins (there for the tourist photos) and taking pictures of other smiling couples wanting their prized classic shot, and of course attempting to block other people out of our classic shot... and then when we had had our fill of ignorance (people seem to think that just because you are given the privaledge of being allowed to pretty much roam the ruins that they can walk all over them, and scramble the walls and otherwise be disrespectful) we hiked down the hour plus to Aguas Calientes, for once in our lives, pretty much tired of hiking downhill.

It was a Rat Race alright, but when you see Machu Picchu for a split second it all makes sense.

Cusco: Who knew rocks could be so interesting

Back in Cusco, but this time with a way better hostal. Found Hospedaje Inka in the book and on a whim of an email got a double room with breakfast and private bath for about 9CAD. Big breakfast too, eat all you want which is kind of strange after getting a tiny bun and butter from other breakfast included places. Has a nice little garden overlooking the city and free use of the kitchen (which we made use of with a pasta medley and more than one box of wine last night).

We have spent time relaxing and paying off our Inka Trail money (sigh)...

Yesterday took a local bus to some ruins north of Cusco by 8km. The first ruin was Tambomachay, followed by Pukapukara, Qenko and Sacsayhuaman (say it with me.. Sexy woman).

Tambomachay is believed to be a water/bathing site, possibly for rituals and was built around 1500AD by the Inka's. Close by (five minutes down the road) was Pukapukara, which is a comanding fort built onto the top of a hill. It has many walls and rooms remaining and was thought to have been used for either rituals or lodging.

A few more kilometers on our way back to Cusco was the rock of Qenko (means labryinth) and is a large rock which has been erroded over time by water and has several alters and many stairs carved into it. It also has a cave underneath it with more stairs... Apparently there were animals carved onto the top of it.. but we couldn't pick them out.

Wandering further we came to the immense ruins of Sacsayhuaman, which has 33 archeological sites and probably more coming as they are currently excavating. The Inkan's invisioned the city of Cusco in the shape of a giant Puma and Sacsayhuaman was to be the head. Giant walls remain which are in a zigzag pattern and were meant to symbolise the teeth of the Puma. When the Spanish arrived they pillaged Sacsayhuaman for stones to build their houses, and now only 20% of the site remains. It is incredible to look at the tight stone work without mortar, some of the stones wight more than 120 tons.

Tomorrow we leave for our 4D, 3N Inka Trail hike, which should be interesting b/c rainy season has fully hit and every day is a combination of burning sun and brooding black rain clouds.

Puno: Beware of the Bangle

Puno is known for the way it celebrates festivals, and just our luck, we happen to be here for Puno Week. The festival kicked off our first night here (Oct. 31), and we managed to catch a bit of the festivities then, but we were told that the best time to see what really happens would be today. It was for this reason that we took our trip to the islands when we did, so that we would be back for today.

We woke up early and decided to do a bit of wandering around as we were told that the parade would start at around 10am. We found ourselves in the Plaza de Armas just before 9am and a crowd was already gathering, so we rushed back to our hostal and gathered our stuff for the day. By the time we returned, the "good" spots were gone. But we did manage to find a spot that did give us a fairly good vantage point.

The parade started out with a bunch of political and social floats. They were completly done and presented by youth from around the city. We saw everything from the different economic areas of the province, to health warnings (condoms are good, aka kid dressed in a giant condom), to statements about corruption in the government and private sector, right up to Osoma Bin Ladin and President Bush.

After this, the really interesting part of the parade began. Puno is said to have over 300 unique costumes and dances, and we were lucky enough to be here to be able to get a small sampling of these. It began with very small kids, 5 or 6 years of age, in full costume dancing and performing, and throughout the day, it progressed into older and older and better and better performances. The final groups went through at about 5pm. Longest parade either of us has ever been to.

Now there is a dinner break and we are told it will be followed up with some evening festivities. We think it is a beer break. Oh, Justine also managed to get herself involved in the celebration as well.



These people were the most normally dressed out of all of the groups, and they were having a hoot. But the other groups often had men dressed as devils and gorillas, women in crazy 3inch knee boots and short skirts among other characters. The costumes are really out of this world, some are worth A LOT OF MONEY. You see such poverty in some places, but these costumes are really ornate, beautiful and expensive. The groups preform coreographed dances with a band. If anyone knows more about the significance of the costumes etc, we would love to have a comment or two.

For those who are really interested, we do have some video.... So if you want to recieve the video (probably will be a big file). Email either of us and we will send it out within the week.

Lake Titicaca: The Rock of the Puma

We headed out for an excursion onto Lake Titicaca, one of the world´s highest navigable lakes. It sits at 3810m and at 8310 square km it is the second largest lake in South America. The lake is home to numerous islands and cultures that have been relatively untouched by modern times. For this reason, we booked a trip to the islands that would take 2 days and one night.

Our first stop was the Isla Uros (aka The Floating Islands). These islands are very unique, and are the home to the Uros people. The people create their own islands using the abundant tortora reed. They continually have to replenish the top layer of the reeds as they rot out from the bottom. The islands are anchored to the bottom of the lake so they do not float away. There are 36 islands, some are quite small and are home to 4 families, while others are large and house schools, churches and community buildings.

The Uros people use the tortora reed for almost everything. They make their houses out of them, as well as very simplistic furniture. The reeds are even used as a food source. The most striking example of their ingenuity though, is the tortora reed boats. They create extremely tight bundle of the reeds that they then fasten together to create boats of varying size. They are now utilizing plastic, and bottles to add to the floatation of their boats though.

After a short visit there, we continued on our boat to the island of Amantani where we would spend the night. The trip was excruciatingly slow. The boat puttered along and what should have been maybe an hour took 4 hours. On the island, we were housed with a local family who put us up in a room in their house and fed us.

The island has some spectacular examples of pre-Incan terracing, and also has some ancient ruins. We trekked to the two highest points on the island, which house stone temples. The stonework is quite amazing, and is almost completely mortarless.


Today, after breakfast at our host families home, we were off to another island, Taquile. Taquile is smaller than Amantani, but is more frequently visited by tourists...very obvious. The interesting thing here was that they maintain some very unique traditions. The men knit their own hats (toques), that vary in colour and design. The colour, design, and how they are worn tell about their marital status. Women also wear bright clothing and darker shawls with pompoms that also indicate their status as well as their general state of being for the day. It is interesting to note that Taquile and Amantani are only a few kms from each other but their dress is very different. The women of Amantani wear bright clothig, but with embroidered white blouses and embroidered black shawls. The men of Amantani wear simple trousers and a vest and fedora. The craftmanship of the toques and sashes of Taquile are amazing in their detail and quality and it is also fascinating to take in these customs, so close to each other and yet so different.

After a very long boat ride, we are back in Puno. We will be staying for another day here before we head back to Cuzco. Tomorrow, we are hoping to be audience to some fasinating desplays of costume and dance during a local festival. Puno is said to be the folklore capitol of Peru and we took in the tail end of festivities on Oct.31... and if tomorrow is the big day, lets just say we are looking forward to bangles and gold aplenty.