The Inbetween Nowhere

Re-integration Hokie-pokie

2007-09-17T23:27:00.000-04:00

How do you re-integrate with society?

I always tell myself never to think about change - especially when it comes to yourself. The more you want change, the less you will get.

When we arrived back in Canada though, it really felt like something was a miss. I thought, well that is it, I have changed, and I will never be the same again. And part of that is true, somewhere deep within myself, but that was oh, so two months ago.. and now how quickly things get back into a rut.

I feel like I am stuck floating somewhere right in the middle of everything. I have a job, but no real place to live. I have a life but no real way to live it. I want so desperately now to just get on with my life to stop waiting for things to just work themselves out. It honestly feels like we are still travelling. We are settled but not quite. We do things like camping on the weekends, but we have no real place to put our gear because we still don't have a place tolive. And through this all, every day I check the paper for houses and apartments, but for what? Why am I so eager to get on with fitting into a box?

What is the rush to be normal and why are so many people desiring it so? Or do people not even desire it, it is just inherent in life? We are taught to have kids and a family and a house and these are goals that so many strive for.

Sitting here somewhere in the middle I find myself longing for some of these conventions and trappings of society. Maybe it is just all or nothing for me, really why sit on the fence in some middle ground nowhere?

But then I think it is not just that I want to settle down and have a house etc... I might trade it all in for travelling all over again.. I think it is just that after living a year doing something and going all out at it, I am not really wanting to just sort-of do something. Life is too short to waffle. Right now I want it all or nothing, and at least the option to choose.

I can't stand this Hokie-pokie much longer.

Middle Ground Blues

2007-09-10T23:16:00.000-04:00

I guess I always thought that in most of my past life I was living an inbetween nowhere, or at least somewhere there in. School was hum-ho, it didn't inspire me, and other things, like the thought of travel and a more exciting life always promised relief. Or, then there is high school where the future seems rosy and the world is your oyster... It is really easy to live your life in the shadow of a dream of something to come. That dream will always be in front of you, and then, one day you will have passed it without ever really knowing when you were there - that is, when the Inbetween Nowhere became a reality. Is it ever a reality??

About a month ago, I had a whole different kind of hindsight. Back then, in the good old days when I wasn't working, being stuck in some midlife nowhere seemed a lot like just not having anything to do. Going from getting up in the morning and powering through mega bus rides and sight seeing and getting yourself fed and housed, to sleeping in and having no real purpose wasn't easy. I guess it seemed like I was stuck in some weird middle zone, which seemed mostly caught up in the fact that I didn't have a job and that a job would give me purpose.

When you have been travelling for a long time people always ask you, don't you just miss home and having a bed and a place to rest? You do and you don't. When you are in the thick of something you just do it and you know the end is a long way off so you aren't really thinking eveyrthing through. The dreams of home or of a different future definitely sustain you through and whether you love what you are doing or not, the idea of something beyond that moment keeps you moving forward. When you are home again and you realise how nice clean and crisp sheets can be or the wonderful rough feel of jeans it all comes back to you how much you really did miss it while you were gone.

But how quickly it fades. And the reality of finding a job or paying off bills begin to sink in. How I wanted purpose and a job in those few short weeks I was without. And now, now that I am a working person I dont really want to be back in those jobless days, but the reality that I am not travelling any more sinks in. The people, the sights, the diversity and the smells. All the ups and downs I took for granted.

Some people talk about Culture Shock, for me, the worst has always been coming home. Trying desperately to enjoy the pleasures and the wonders that our society offers, but missing desperately the life and freedom of the road and the all the adventures it holds.

At the time I thought it was the time I needed to re-integrate, but now I see it wasn't quite that. It wasn't really the jobless factor, it was just the being in middle and having no dream, no vision of what the future was. For a girl, who for the last 3-4 years has been driven by the idea of travelling, standing at the end of that long road is hard. There are new adventures and things to uncover, but it is a different path trying to dance between fitting into society and being your own person and figuring out where your path is and what new things will drive you that way.

French River, Ontario: Whatever Floats the Boat

2007-07-24T00:42:00.000-04:00

A week spent dodging Small Craft Wind Warnings (SCWW) and surfing rapids can make anyone smile. But nothing really brings a true smile like the scenery of Georgian Bay, bowling ball swirly rocks and its back-broken trees.

Good conversation was had over nightly boxes of wine and quite a few mickies of spirits, and severe thunderstorms were ridden out from the safety of our thermarests. One could say there isn't much to do camping, but that just isn't the case on Georgian Bay. We moved every day, some days travelling upwards of 20km against the wind. We even got stuck on the Bustard Islands for three days following some thunderstorms and high winds. But eventually we were on the road again and we braved our SCWW to make the 2.5km crossing to the mainland and then spent an exhausting day moving against the wind and against water flow.

But hard work has its fun too and the rapids that weave between the rock fingers and islands make great fun both going down and up. There are so many nooks and cranies to explore kind of like Kafka's mind on water.

It made it pretty easy to forget all the things that should be on ones mind. Life is so easy to postpone. But reality is there and reintegrating with society is not an easy or a quick task. What does Whitehorse hold? Am I ready for a steady job? How about staying in one place for a year? Or more? So easy to just pretend those things aren't coming. But maybe I just have to take it as it comes and stop analysing ahead.

Home: Mrs. Chutney's C + B

2007-07-14T21:17:00.000-04:00

Home, home at last and how tasty it is with cheddar and potable water aplenty. Coming home can be hard especially when you long for the simple pleasures, but you fear all that it entails.

No one can imagine how nice it is to wear jeans and a cotton t-shirt when you have gone a year without. The simple pleasures of a towel on the skin is delightful. How is it that the sounds of birds chirping amidst rustling, windblown leaves can be lost to the ears? Why do we sometimes have to loose something to appreciate it? Truly, coming back home to stay is a sensory delight.

And yet home is full of the unseen pressures. They say high school is full of peer pressure, but the same can be said of so much else. Questions abound and they aren't always easy to answer. People view travel as a care free life, and always say, if only they had the time or money they would be so lucky. But travel can be a mind numbing slog of diahera and language barriers. Yet at the end of it all, there is something missing... a place to call your own? Family? Friends? Security? Consistent challenge rather than daily change? These are the weeks and months of reflection to come.

But, before the rest of our lives loom and decisions await, they can wait just a little bit longer. A week paddling the waters of Georgian Bay's wind swept shores and extruded rocks offers a perfect way to get some peace, quiet and reflection about all that has happened in the last year.

And so begins the Inbetween Nowhere.

Cairo, Egypt: At Peace Amidst the Haggling

2007-07-11T09:38:00.001-04:00

So to put an end to all our travelling we spent a few days in the chaotic, hectic haven of Cairo. Not to pass up on 4CAD ties and 20CAD jeans, we did a bit of shopping. It was definitely weird to see ourselves in real clothes again.

See you in Canada

Dahab, Egypt: If Justine Was a Chip, She would be 'Sea Salt'

2007-07-06T12:58:00.000-04:00

So our 10 month backpacking trip is winding down, and on the Red Sea of all places. We have decided to splurge and have settled on a hotel with a pool, mini fridge and TV. All this luxury for only the small Egyptian fortune of 180 LE (incl breakfast feast). That is about 35 dollars Canadian.

We haven't done much other than swim, snorkel and contemplate getting that massage we have dreamed about for the last 10 months. The busy season is just about to get going, so we are enjoying less of the crowds and more of the corral bliss. The corral and fish life here is truly amazing and we have been snorkeling and enjoying the warm waters and aqua colouring.

The town is quite small, and there is no Four Season, or Hilton. And as such, the package tourists are not quite the same. Life here is pretty laid back and enjoyable. We have had a couple of dinner feasts and enjoyed some nice sundowners on our deck looking over to Saudi Arabia over the Gulf of Aqaba from our deck.

Our trip here from Luxor was an 18 hour episode on a bus that had seen better days. There was supposedly aircon....but was not quite up to Western Standards. After our long journies in S America(Chile and Argentina), we have come to appreciate the comforts of a luxory bus at basement prices. This definetly wasn't one of them.

We had heard that Dehab was laid back and a bit of a chill spot. So, that is what we were expecting upon our arrival here. To our surpise, we almost caused an international incident.

After 18 hours on the bus, we arrived in Dahab. There was no signage, no announcement, and we were two of the last 4 people on the bus, so when the bus was rushed and boarded by 6 young guys, we thought they were just getting on. But, to our dismay, they were touts trying to get us to agree to their hotels, and if not, to their cab rides into the town. We managed to get off the bus, and collect our bags, but they continued to swarm, yelling and being quite pushy. We tried to remain polite, and asked them to give us room....but they just wouldn't back off.

As we started to walk through the loading area, they just continued...and we kept telling them to back off. Suddenly, one of the guys seemed to realize that we were getting annoyed at some of the others, and took it on himself to try and push them back. The next thing we knew, there were punches flying! One of the guys took two solid punches to the face and was staggered before the rest of the group began pushing another guy back. The hurt guy regained his footing, and quickly recovered his lost flip flop, and began to run away from the group. As he hurtled over a concrete baracade toward the taxis, we thought he had had enough and was getting out of there before things got out of control. NO! He reached down, picked up a bottle, smashed it on the concrete baracade, and rushed back into the scrum! Swinging and yelling in Arabic, he slashed his offender, smashing the bottle in the process.

We were moving QUICKLY away from this, trying t0 descern where to go. The taxis were out, as the fight was right near them, so, we were making our way to the road. The crowd was enraged at this point and groups were trying to hold back both parties. The bloodied guy went to his truck, opened the door and retrieved something from under the driver's seat.

This was the last we saw. Another tout was beside us, hailing a passing cab (pickup truck), and shouting orders to us to get out of there. Our bags were thrown into the bed of the vehicle, and we dove into the back seat (Justine with her big pack still on got wedged in), expecting to hear gunshots in our wake.

We really have no idea what the hell was going on there. It was scary, and we were shaken up about it for hours afterwards. All we can say is that we are really happy that we haven't been privy to more of these types of episodes, and that it occured near the end of our travels. Hassle certainly has gone to extreme here in Egypt.

Thankfully, that was the only time we saw those guys during our entire stay (quite possibly because they were all in the hospital for the rest of our stay). And, the relaxed atmosphere of the rest of Dahab made it quite easy to shuffle the incident to the back of our minds. Ignorance is bliss for all those who would like to believe in pixy dust and peaches.

Cairo - Aswan - Luxor, Egypt: Sails Woven of Patience

2007-06-30T10:43:00.000-04:00

So some of us have gone from loving to hating and back again of this country. Travelling in Egypt certainly has its ups and downs.

Firstly, it is hot here, and we mean HOT. Always over 40C in the days, more like 45C (over 110F) down in Aswan. That kind of heat doesn't make you want to do anything, and here we are trudging through the desert, fighting off pimping touts, hat salesmen, baksheesh grubbing locals, hords of tourists, and just about anyone else that thinks they can make a buck off of us.

And don't get someone started on that. EVERYTHING is open to haggling. And since we can't understand, nor even begin to read Arabic, we can't even get a fair start. Bottle of water, well we have seen people pay up to 10 pounds for a bottle. They charge locals 1.5opounds. They say even the locals have to haggle, but for us it is constant. Everything is a minimum of double the price for us. Just to use internet today, we asked one place, they said 10pounds, we turned to go and the price dropped to 5. Guess they just have to try.

But it gets hard, the heat, the hassle. YES TRAVELLING IS TOUGH. But the touts here aren't just hiking the prices, you can't walk anywhere without someone asking you where you are from or trying to sell you something. And when we tell them Canada, let us tell you, we have heard "CANADA DRY" about 10billion times now! The souqs and bazaars are a lesson in patience, as there are hundreds of shops and every shop owner comes into the street, stands in your way and says somethign to you, from EXCUSE ME, to DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS IS, to WHAT IS THIS, to WHERE ARE YOU FROM? or how about HOW MANY CAMELS? or LUCKY MAN or the kissy whistling noises and on and on and on.

Oh and the little kids. Different culture, diferent people. Justine has had her boob accidentally touched by little kids a few times and they just don't take No Thank you for an answer.

And lets not even start with the flies that just won't stop dive bombing into our mouths and eyes.

Ahhh but all is not bad. Even though people can get downright rude and mean when you don't go with them or look in their shop, there are some wonderful moments amid the chaos. Smiling children saying hello, or the offer for tea amidst the haggling are just some of the few. Many people stop you to hassle you, but many also stop you to tell you that you are Welcome in their Country, and that can feel nice. We don't do enough of that in Canada. And even though, many of them still make a buck off of us, there are always people willing to help you out or let you know what something is. And, well, we suppose you can't blame them for trying to hike prices up, there are a lot of well-to-do package tourists (really hardly any backpackers) and, 1 CAD = 5.35 Pounds. Lets, put that in more of a perspective, we are paying 25pounds a night at our hostel tonight. We bought the sweetest, juiciest watermelon today, fresh off the wagon for a rather steep tourist price of 4 pounds. Life can be a constant haggle here, but do as the locals do, sip some piping hot tea, laugh it off and put it past you.

So hassle aside we have travelled to 40km from the border of Sudan and taken in some of Egypts greatest monuments. The last couple of days we have taken in some of the momuments which were disassembled, packed up and moved to higher ground when Egypt decided to dam up the Nile River. Can't say some of us think highly of that move, even though it allowed much more of the land to become fertile, and has helped support the population. Guess it has something to do with the fact that one of the greatest civilisations of all times lived for thousands of years perfectly fine with the land they had, and some of the greatest monuments of all times are tarnished by being reconstructed elsewhere with the daming up of the river. They say now that the dam stops all of the fertile soils brought with the yearly floods, the farmers now have to use a lot of fertilizers and that the river beyond the dam is slowly starting to grow higher with silt.

We have spent the last 2 nights and 2.5 days on a felucca, traditional Egyptian sailboat, on the Nile. The trip is sold as a relaxing sail down the Nile. It was quite relaxing, none of the aforementioned hassles, but it definetly wasn't a sail. Don't get us wrong, it is a sailboat and would be quite spectacular moving with the wind down the Nile river. But, alas, we "floated" down the river onboard the vessel. The sails were unfurrowed only once to make up for 2 hours spent sitting at the side of the river waiting for the strong desert winds to subside. Although it wasn't exactly as we expected, we did enjoy our time on the boat. It was sort of relaxing, and it was a great way to see a short section of the Nile River and the lives of locals living along the banks. Besides, we are on Egyptian time for the next two weeks, and at times it makes South American time look fast.

Now we are in the home stretch of antiquity with a couple of days in Luxor to take in the Valley of the Kings and other such things before we head for some (slightly) cooler weather and some snorkeling in the Red Sea. Too bad everyone else has the same idea. Hopefully we loose some of our cynicism and chill out a little before we head back to the real world in the coming weeks.

Happy Canada Day.

Nairobi to Nairobi: Random Photos

2007-06-24T11:22:00.000-04:00

Here are a few photos from the beginning of our trip to see the Gorillas. These particular shots are from the very beginning of the trip, while we were in the Masai Mara, and hopefully will tide people over until Justine goes on another photo-posting-binge.

Dahshur, Saqqara and Giza: Giant Blocks and Blistering Sun

2007-06-24T10:17:00.000-04:00

We have seen our fist sights in Egypt. We booked a private taxi to go and see the pyramids, leaving Cairo at 7:30 in the morning and not returning to the hostel until around 5 pm.

We first headed to Dahshur, the place that was farthest south, to see the Red Pyramid, which was the first true pyramid to be built. Very close by is the so called "Bent" Pyramid, which was kind of like the practice run for the Red Pyramid. Both were built for pharoah Sneferu. As they are a ways out of the city and not as well known, not as many people go to see them as the pyramids of Giza. Leaving Cairo early, we arrived at the pyramids early as well.

So early in fact, that we had the pyramid to ourselves, and were able to go inside and explore with no other tourists there. There is no real way to describe the feelings of being inside of the colossal stone structure after descending 63m. (the second image is looking up at the ceiling inside the pyramid)

From there, we headed to Saqqara. Saqqara is where the first stone sturctures were built. Imhotep, Pharaoh Zoser's chief architect, moved from using mud bricks to using hewn stone to construct much larger tombs. This is the first stage in the transformation to a true smooth sided pyramid, and is called a step pyramid, for obvious reasons.

Here, we also got to see the mastabas. Mastabas were the previous tombs used by royalty, and later by their officials. The Mastaba was a mudbrick structure that was build above the actual tomb which was dug/carved into the desert, often going down 10s of meters.

From there it was off to see what is often people's highlight, or disappointment: the pyramids and sphinx at Giza. Giza is now a suburb of Cairo, so the monuments are amidst the urban sprawl of a city that is 25 million strong. Some people are greatly dissapointed by this fact, and we had been told of this all the way back in Argentina. But, it doesn't take too much effort to look past this fact and still be in awe of the last remaining member of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

The day did prove to be long, hot and stinking. The temperature was upwards of 40C and we went through our 4L of water like some people would beer. We did have to pay out some "baksheesh", and were asked for a lot of it throughout the day, but Justine can be quite scary when she is hot and bothered, so we fended them off quite well.

All in all, the first day of sight seeing was very rewarding. And, we are excited for the things that lie ahead as we move south and get to see the antiquities of the Middle and New Kingdom of Ancient Egypt and not to mention what everyone in Cairo tells us as a much hotter climate. It is going to be a lot about aclimatizing and getting used to the culture here.

Cairo, Egypt: Urban Heat and History Helter Skelter

2007-06-22T11:23:00.000-04:00

Our last days in Nairobi were busy and hectic. But, did provide us with some good anecdotes.

As it has been almost a year since we have had our hair cut, Justine decided to go for it when she found out it would cost about $2.50 USD for a trim (ever the myser). Well, it ended up being an experience. The women in the salon chatted away to her, while the hair dresser back brushed her hair into a major afro and then sawed through her hair with the dullest sissors on the planet. At the end of it all, Justine decided to put her hair into a couple of pony tails out of the way..but wasn't doing a great job, so the stylist did one braid for her, then grabbed the scissors, and hacked the uneven bottom off of the braid!

While shopping in the local market, we realized we have been in Africa just about enough time, when Justine was mistaken for a local due to her thread-bare shirt.

And finally, as we were leaving Nairobi, we went to the airport early and decided to kill some time reading in one of the common areas. Suddenly we were surrounded by a crowd of about 40 fourteen to fifteen year old school kids who were on some sort of class trip. They were noisy and quite excited to be on an outting. But, we tried to ignore them and continue reading. Before too long, Chris felt the kids brushing up against his hair from behind where we were sitting. After moving a little to get out of their way...he realized that there were touching his hair. Thinking he would embarrass them into stopping he turned around and greeted them. Wrong move! This was an invitation for EVERYONE to come forward and caress his hair, head and chin hair (after Justine demonstrated how to stroke his chin). Needless to say, Chris became extemely red, and could only laugh until their teacher shooed them away.

So ends Nairobi and Kenya

We have arrived into the heat and urban chaos of Cairo. Gone are the dirt roads, diesel and closed shops at 7pm of Nairobi. Welcome to 24hours of city life complete with KFC's and McDonalds.

We haven't been here long, and we haven't done much, but then again just adjusting to city life again can be a difficult thing. Not to mention a very different culture.

We spent the afternoon attempting to shrug off what is considered a cool summer day (35C) and take in a minute Egyptian history lesson. We explored the bottom floor of the Egyptian Museum and after several hours of mummies, hieroglyphs and stone works we escaped the internet, which we must say is a little bit faster here, so we might grace you all with some blog pictures, but keep your fingers crossed.

Nairobi, Kenya: Etcetera

2007-06-20T12:30:00.000-04:00

Our last 24 hours in East Africa, and we will be sad to go. We spent the previous 24 hours haggling over goods and trading things too worn to continue. Now lighter in money and in goods we are moving on to Cairo.

A CBC article shed some sobering facts for us about this part of the world, and about some countries seen by others on a whim of a tour or as neighbours to established countries and never for what they really are. We were told the other day that Africans weren't that badly off, sometimes we just don't know what to say to people. There certainly are people who have done well for themselves, but there is a very severe other side of the coin, and that just isn't a conversation we wanted to have.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/background/refugeecamp/global-trends.html

Nairobi, Kenya: How to Killl Time

2007-06-15T11:51:00.000-04:00

Back in Nairobi, and not for any of the reasons we planned upon.

We stopped in Lake Naivasha for what was supposed to be a jolly good time spent relaxing and biking through Hells Gate. Instead Justine spent most of the time puking in the shell of an old bus. Now don't fret, it wasn't the first shelter we could find along the way, it was just the cheapest that had a bed in the area. They had a series of combis, buses and cars converted into bedrooms, and along with the payment for a bed, Justine got a little more than she bargained for and got food poisoning to boot.

A few days of that and we headed for Nairobi, fearing the possiblity of malaria. 2.50 CAD later and we knew that she didn't have malaria. Now a few more doctors visits, a few body samples, several drug prescriptions and a lot of days spent in bed Justine is slowly starting to eat again.

Now what? We don't know. We have until next Thursday until we fly to Cairo, and Justine still isn't 100percent to take a matatu or any of the other forms of bumpy crowded dusty travel to get out of the city. So it may be another six days of twiddling our thumbs and dreaming of camels and pyramids for us. Although time has been passed well enough watching Chris dip spring rolls in Chinese tea.

Jinja Uganda: Rafting the Source of the Nile

2007-06-07T03:04:00.000-04:00

After the Gorillas, we spent two days at lake Bunyoni just chilling out and relaxing. From there, we headed off to Jinga, a city located at the source of the Nile river. The highlight of the place was whitewater rafting.

Those who signed up would be able to say that they rafted the source of the Nile river, and also lay claim to riding class 5 rapids. Chris was eager from the start, and after sleeping on it for the night, Justine decided that she would go along. It helped that the day looked spectacular and promised to be hot.

Unlike rafting the Tat in the Yukon, the Nile is a warm river (27 C) and therefore, no wet suit was required. 19 people from our tour decided that they would pay the price for the privalge and we loaded up two rafts.

The trip was four hours and included lunch and free drinks at the end.

The rapids were great, and it didn't take either of us long to remember how much fun rafting is! We ran a number of rapids and although we got very wet, we didn't flip once. Although there were long lulls between the waves, we ran rapids that ranged from class 1 to class 5 with names like The Bad Spot, The G Spot and 50/50. The last rapid of the day was the appropriately named, the Bad Place, where we held on tight and hoped for the best as giant walls of water threatened to tip our boat and throw us into the frothing white water, there was defintely some fear at times and a lot of fun was had.

The day definetly got our adrenaline pumping, and after hours and hours on the bus, it was very nice to have a day of activity.

We are now in our last weeks in Kenya. We are heading off to Lake Nakuru, where we will hopefully see some White Rhinos, and then we end our overland experience at Hells Gate National Park. Our plan is to try and do a mountain Bike tour of the park for a couple of days on our own as we wrap up the final days in East Africa

Nairobi, Kenya - Uganda and the Congo: Gorillas Barefoot in the Bubble

2007-06-07T02:58:00.000-04:00

So we are back in the bubble again, the bubble bus tour that is. We joined back up on a two week tour to visit the mountain gorillas of the DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo - for the oldies, formerly known as Zaire) as well as to take in a few more parks and such.

We passed through northern Tanzania, flying on roads more pothole than road, underneath the shadow of Mnt. Killimanjero and into the bustling hub of Nairobi. Dusty and dirty it was, but metropolis, none the less and we enjoyed a few days of plentiful internet access and some real coffee before heading back out onto the backwoods of Kenya, Uganda and the Congo.

First stop was the Masai Mara game reserve, where we took in a rather crowded and uneventful game drive. We say uneventful, but we still saw quite a few lions and some cheetahs right by t he truck. But after the Sergengeti, we have to admit we were pretty spoiled, and it doesnt make for good game viewing when jammed into a tour with tons of other people.

From there it was onwards to Uganda where we passed by the shores of Lake Victoria before several long, dusty, and bumpy days to reach the border between the DRC, Uganda and Rwanda. The scenery in Uganda really is something to behold and stunningly beautiful with farm land and terracing climbing steep rolling mountains and hills, which occasionally dive into blue lakes below, farmed right up to the shore. The poverty is also equally stunning, and it is defintely some of the stereotypes that you see on the news, children barefoot, wearing clothing that can barely be called clothing, shredded and torn. And yet their zest for life takes your heart. Everywhere we go, children run yelling and smiling, waving to us from the side of the road. You can't help but smile when their faces light up to see you waving at them from the bus.

The mood was set for the gorilla trekking in the Congo, as we got up a t 4am with the full moon lighting the road in front of us. We drove to the border, waiting amongst teenage guards, complete with rocket launchers and AK47's . A few of them came with us, as we had to be escorted all the way into the jungle and back by the armed guards. We took a bumpy road through town, with the sounds of children yelling and laughing at us as we flew by. Then the long day began and we hiked for 4 hours through farmers fields of corn, potatoes and beans to reach the edge of the jungle. We had split into 3 groups, and ours finally reached the gorillas after a long, but never boring hike past coruses of peasant kids yelling "jambo."

Reaching the gorillas trully was one of the highlights that we thought it would be and at the same time it was nothing like we ever could have imagined. The jungle was hot and boggy and we were rained on along the way, and while t heir the sound of thunder echoed ahead, but then our first sitghting as a black body moved through the brush ahead. Then we were right beside one, napping in the bushes, not 2 feet from us. Mums and their babies swinging through the trees and snapping bamboo playfully around us. When they say these animals are habituated to human presence they aren't kidding, and a few of them playfully swatted at us. The park wardens as you not to touch the gorillas, but the gorillas themselves make it h ard not to. It can be part terrifying too, as a giant 350KG silverback walks 6 inches from you. And for the most part when not trying to push your buttons they are just doing what they do, munching on bamboo, breaking trees, sleeping and playing. We even saw the silverback charge another gorilla, beating his chest. The family we visited had 12 gorillas in all and only one silverback, its familiy name is Rigunda (spelling may be off). Being there in the middle of the jungle next to these beautiful and unique animals certainly is the treat of a life time. Each gorilla is unique in its facial expressions and face marking and the way they move, play and manipulate their surroundings is eery and human like at times. We paid 300usd each for 1hour with th e gorillas and both of us would not hesitate to do i t again in a second.

When our Dian Fossey, Gorillas in the Mist moment was over we faced a long walk back in the dark. We ended up having to wait until about 10pm for the last group to arrive and sadly t hey didn't even get to see their family of gorillas, which had been on the move all day. Luckily they were able to return the next day while the rest of us move don in Uganda. They were lucky, but it also showed that people underestimate how difficult it is to see the gorillas and how it is trully the gorillas and not us who are allowing the priviledge of a visit.

Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater Safari: Eye to Eye with Africa's Wildest

2007-05-23T01:51:00.000-04:00

Another whirlwind week of safaris and animals galore. This one was a little rushed, we kind of jumped right into the safari. For one thing it is low season and for another thing if we thought Zanzibar was bad for touts, apparently Arusha is the worst in Tanzania. This is for one simple reason, the Serengeti.

World famous for animals, Arusha, the base town has more safari companies than quite possibly animals in the Serengeti, so we knew people would be aggressive. We pretty much jumped off the bus and got touted right away. We figured what the hell, and since Arusha is kind of a busy, bustling and chaotic town and not wanting to have to wait a few days to get a group together for bargaining power we hoped a tour for the next day.

We joined a 4 day, 3 night safari with two other Canadians. The itinerary would be the first day and night we would go to the Lake Manyara National Park, the second day we would head to the Serengeti, the third day, after driving through the Serengeti, we would camp on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater and then do a game drive in the Crater on the final day.

The distances are large here, so we spent a lot of time in the vehicle. And, although our guide, vehicle and cook were good by budget standards, the highlights were definetly the animals! All three parks are located in stunning but entirely different surroundings. During the times that we were not viewing animals, we were in awe of the landscapes that surrounded us.

The Serengeti plains were formed when volcanic mountains errupted spewing ash over a great distance. They are extremely flat and with few trees, as only grasses can get root into the hard rock underneath the soil. The plains are broken by what they call kopjes, or rock magma that was pushed to the surface and cooled with the heat of the plains into interesting hill formations. You really can see where movies like The Lion King got its inspiration. And we weren't spared any of the stereotypes, we even saw a lion purched at the top of one of these rock cliffs much as you might imagine Simba doing in the movie (simba means "lion" in Swahilli).

Then there are the crater highlands. When the volcanoes errupted long ago they left a series of blown apart craters. The largest is the Ngorongoro crater which is more than 20km across and contains an astonishing amount of wildlife within its steep and lush walls. To get down into the crater you take muddy switchbacked roads, travelling from tropical vegetation at the rim to dry plains in the crater. It truly is stunning landscape.

Although we had seen most of the animals before on previous safaris, the experience here in Tanzania felt unique and exciting. The vastness of the parks, and the abundance of wildlife made for a memorable time. Some of our highlights included:

a leapord sitting in a tree

27 lions (including many big males)

Ngorongoro elephants with the largest tusks we have seen

3 black rhinos (we saw 3 out of the elusive 17 left in the crater and are quite luckyto have seen them).

hippos out of the water in the morning sunlight

a zebra fight

animal carcasses

The experience of the safari was definitely mixed. On one hand you see how big rich tourism is and there is something odd about flying by tiny mud villages in your Range Rover. But there are so many wonderful things that can't be described and one of them has to be the Masai culture. The Masai people still maintain their traditional dress, and while some try to hawk wares to weary travellers, the majority can be seen herding cattle in the plains. They have rights to herd and graze their sheep and cows, and it is fascinating to see tiny boys dressed in vibrant red blankets with amazing beadwork beating their cows with spears and sticks while zebras, wildebeast, elephant and giraffes look on. Their style of dress truly has to be seen to be appriciated, and even still it is hard to believe that it is not put on. In other countries you are only treated to traditional dress for special occastions or when they are trying to sell you something. Here the men, women and children all dress traditionally and aside from the vibrant blankets they were heavy beaded earrings (which cause huge wholes in the ears) as well as beaded crowns, necklaces, bracelets and giant anklets. They carry spears and sticks not for show, but for protection. It truly feels unreal and adds to the breathtaking scenery.

We spent a day after the safari in Arusha where we spent time watching the Rwanda genocide trials. That in itself as a fascinating experience. The trials have been going on now for more than a decade and while it might not seem like there is a lot to observe, it is interesting to see the speed of justice and just what hoops need to be jumped through to give everyone a fair trial and to clear all the wrong that was done.

We are now in Nairobi where we are going to jump on a tour for two weeks to Uganda and the DRC to trek to the mountain gorillas. The last few weeks in Eastern Africa have been crazy and hectic from 27 people jammed in to a tiny mini van (this meant we had to hang on to the outside while the driver flew over speed bumps and swerved in traffic) to crazy bargaining with touts. Nairobi seems to be no exception with dusty streets, a reputation that proceeds itself and people everywhere. It is hard to say you are tired, but sometimes it does start to wear on you the constant bargaining, always paying for rooms or food or anything. But, when your weary eyes take in the colour of the Masai beadwork and the wonders of the african savannah, you seem to find a little bit of peace amid all of the chaos.

Zanzibar, Tanzania: Chipati's On the Beach Revisited

2007-05-17T09:43:00.000-04:00

A week in the tropical paradise of Zanzibar, it all sounds so blissful and wonderful. But Zanzibar has its ups and downs, not to mention we are smack dab in the middle of "rainy" season. While this was good for the budget, it meant we didn't see a day without rain, and presently it was raining for the last 24 hours straight on the island.

Getting to and from Zanzibar is half the adventure as it involves rabid touts, or in Swahili, papai ("ticks"), aggressive taxi drivers, pecan pimps, the high sea rocking the boat and the inevitable mass of people pushing to get in and off the boat. We sent early to book our tickets and still had a hard time avoiding touts that simply will not stop hounding you, they get comission if they bring you to certain offices. That and people rush the boat, trying to catch you off guard to grab your bags so you have to pay them for carrying your bags or to convince you to go to a hotel where they get comission. Getting out of the port is hard enough, where you not only have to dodge cab drivers and touts, but fork lifts and fishermen all moving at high speed between the shipping containers. And then there is the immigration stamping which allows room for about two lines of people and while you are getting stamped into Zanzibar people are pushing to get past you. All this sound like a boat load of fun? Then why not throw in the roll of the seas which involved our rather large boat (big enough for over 100 people and fairly new) smashing down on giant ocean rollers, people screaming and cargo slamming. We even lost somehing overboard which is where it all went downhill because we spent a half hour rocking in the waves, where upon the barfing began.

But the island, white sand, palm trees, tourqoise water and torrential rain! We spent a few days in the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Stone Town while is a winding labrynth of moldy houses filled with shops, mosques and muslim people all intermingled with rain puddles and touts. It is really hard to shake the touts, no wonder they are called ticks, and we spent a good deal of time trying to be polite. It is the low season on the island, so there isn't much business to go around and even if you tell someone no 3 times in a day, you will see them again the next day.

And once again, everything is open to haggling, especially when you are a tourist, they just jack it up when they see you coming. But there is a lot of fun that can be had once you learn the system and we spent a few nights eating at the lively ocean front seafood market sampling everything from shark, and falafels to Zanzibar Pizza (beef, veg, egg wraped in dough). We got hosed the first night, as we didn't really know the system but we haggled fiercly the second night and paid even less the third night.

We had our tout too, his name was Eddy. He was a pretty nice guy, but of course he is out to get the most from us and we are out to pay the least to him. On the first night at the market he introduced us to his "friend" who owned a stall, but ended up just being a food papsi and we ended up paying more for our meal than we should have. Justine, angry, told Eddy that we wouldn't give him our business because of his "friend." We then got discounts on going on a Spice Tour and transport to the North Beach. Of course we say discount, but no one would agree to do anything for us if they weren't making $$ off of us. It is a hard thing haggling though, because people are really friendly and you know that waht you are haggling over ends up being about 1 USD, but even all of that adds up for us right now. Still, sometimes you have to think, what is that really to me?

Touts may be a hassle, but the island has a very friendly vibe and nearly every local you meet greets you with "Jambo" or "Hujambo" to which you reply "jambo or sijambo". Then you might get a Mambo, so you say poa (cool). Being that there aren't that many tourists it is hard to get anywhere without having to get into conversations like that.

The north beach of Nungwi was pure tropical bliss and mosquitos. Sand with all of the whitening promise of Cologate, but none of the minty aftertaste. It really is picturesque with a rough edge to it. Beach boys and fishermen hang out on the beach waiting for tourists and you can't even sunbath in the rain without someone trying to sell you something.

Many of the fishermen still use wooden dhows with a sail to fish, and there is even a dhow building centre at Nungwi. They pull in all sorts of fish and tropical shells from the tourqoise water. Hours can be spent wandering the white sand playing with hermit crabs and looking at sharks that have washed up. But once that is done and it is raining again, there isn't much else to do but spend money on drinks or activities.

But onwards we move and from teh rain of the coast we are heading inland to Arusha towards the Serengeti and the Nogorogoro crater. We managed to travel the last month with only one 5 minute stint of rain, and our time here on the coast has been enough. We were also asking where Africa is, and although the mosques and the sea sickness weren't really what we were after when we asked that, we found a different answer to our question here on the coast, one that we won't forget anytiem soon.

Lusaka, Zambia - Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania: Cruise Control with Falcon Air

2007-05-10T10:03:00.000-04:00

So one hellish and fun bus ride later and we are in Dar Es Salaam. What a different world we have stepped into, but first the bus ride here!

31 hours on an African special, which includes pink tinted windows, decals and of course a bus with a name/company on the front, "Falcon Air." We had about five different drivers/touts, who all sat on the floor for the full 31 hours staring out the windows. Of course the border crossing was a hoot, we arrived an hour and a half before the border opened at 5.30am and you couldn't even stand outside the bus without having to talk to someone who wanted to change money or sell you a leather jacket. Of course then there was the border rush which involved Justine taking an elbow to the face (not hard) and various other shoves and pushes. But four hours and 50 USD eac for the stamp and we had our visa into Tanzania. We can't forget to mention the pee stops which were mostly taking place in a mad dash into the bush or in a shadowy corner, when you could shrug off the banana pimps and cracker touts selling goods. Then there were about 30 plus police stops and a good many weighings of the vehicle. Finally, finally we arrived in Dar at midnight yesterday where the taxi drivers tried to get us to pay about 20 USD for what they called a 30 min ride (we were about 5 blocks from our hotel). FUN!

Dar is a weird and intriguing mix of Indian, Arab and Swahili culture, all mixed in with a humidity level that could drown a fly. We spent the morning fixing our phone, getting a phone number, listening to prayers from the mosques, enjoying Turkish tea with our phone dealer and former Markham, On resident Kassim and then going to the hospital. But don't worry, just Chris' eye. For those who don't know Chris has been with a red eye for about 5 weeks now. We have seen 3 doctors and then here we were directed to an Opthomologist by teh Canadian Embassy. We are hoping things get better.

For now, tomorrow we head to Zanzibar, where we hope to enjoy the white sand, the spices and the local cuisine.

Okavanga Delta, Botswana - Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe: Ending in an Exclamation Mark

2007-05-06T10:32:00.000-04:00

Reflections and hindsight are both rosy and shaded grey. We are now done our little overland tour and are sitting across the Zambezi River and the mighty Victoria Falls, reflecting on the last few days of the tour.

From the Okavanga Delta, eastwards we travelled to Chobe National Park in Botswana where we once again took in a few game drives, these ones bringing a smile to our faces. We were finally rewarded with a lion sighting, and this one included lion cubs only a few metres from our truck. The early morning start not only yielded lions basking the morning sun, but baboons humping and a herd of buffalo drinking water at the water hole.

Our last few nights outside Chobe National Park were of course spent drinking and taking in a variety of drinking games, that although we might scoff at them, still served to bring our little group closer together. From what we can gather, not all overland tours are created equal, and in fact there is often a lot of squabbling and clashing of egos, ours did not end up this way. Although it has to be admitted by us, that there were a few annoying habits and sayings of the group, in all laughter often filled the air and there were no real blow ups to speak of.

The last night in Botswana was spent beside the river where a hippo grazed about 5 metres from our tent (on the other side of the electric fence, thankfully) and apparently a croc lived in the tree beside our tent, although this cannot be confirmed. The sounds of hippos called from the river and mongoose occasionally raded the campground for food.

We then crossed into Vic Falls, Zimbabwe for probably one of the most interesting 24 hours we have had in Africa to date.

Zimbabwe is in the middle of a political and economical crisis. Inflation is in the hundreds, if not thousands of percents. Long story cut short, the situation is not good and the Zim Dollar has been frozen by the government at 1 USD = 250 Zim Dollars. This means if you take money out of an ATM this is the rate the banks must charge you. The unofficial "blackmarket" rate is about 1USD = 20,000 Zim Dollars, but that changes daily. To buy a tiny pizza it cost us around 90,000 Zim Dollars, if we paid the offical rate, you can just calculate what that would have cost us. All this means that savings have been entirely wiped out and salaries are not keeping up with the inflation.

Victoria Falls is somewhat of an anomily, as the falls keeps tourists visiting, although the amount of people there has dropped dramatically. Outside of the small town, things are very much different with prices constantly fluctuating and doubling, tripling overnight. We have heard stories of 8 hour lines, just to buy tickets for transport.

But still the people we met, were all very friendly. Competition is fierce for souvenirs, but the sellers are all still friendly, even remembering our names the next day when we returned (although this also goes to show how few people are actually in the town and spending money). It is a tough situation, as it can be intimidating in the market, as people meet you blocks away, trying to get you to buy something, anything. They will even trade for the shirt off your back, literally. They wanted our shoes, hats, shirts, backpacks, anything we could give them because buying clothes is just too expensive for them. People ending their trip in Vic Falls went down to the market with armloads of clothes, sleeping bags and mattresses and came out with masks, intricately carved giraffes, spoons and other knick knacks.

As it stands we bought a two foot long mask, carved out of heavy wood for about 7USD, and we could have gotten them lower. And although they sold it to us for so little, they still patted us on the back and had a smile for us. We paid in Zim Dollars, although they all want USD because it is at least stable.

We also visited Vic Falls, which was a crazy experience. Right now the water is at an all time high and the falls are spread out over a kilometer, much like Igauzu Falls. But instead of the beautiful thin rivelets of Igauzu, Victoria Falls is a pumping, seething froth of water flying into a giant gorge. The mist churned up is so thick that you can literally step from sunshine into a downpour of mist. We were drenched in seconds taking in the rainbows caused by the mists. Really was a beautiful experience and worth the 65 USD ea for a visa into Zimbabwe (Canadians have one of the highest visas because of our political stance on the country's situation) and the20 USD ea park entrance. What a rush though.

And for others the rush didn't stop there. You can bungee jump and zip line the gorge, do flights and when the water isn't so high you can white water raft the Zambezi. Right now though rafting is apparently something akin to being suicidal, although we heard a story about when the water was low, and even then it involved a floating body.

Of course there was the last night party which involved eating out at a restaurant. In a group this is never that easy, but in a group, combined with a town that has limited resources can be hard. Some people just couldn't grasp that yes, they are in Africa and in a country with some issues and that why the hell don't they have everything on the menu and why does it taste like crap? Our waiter came out with a list of what they had (something like 7 t-bones, 6 half chickens, some snitzel etc and we had to figure it out for ourselves). As is, they had 3 bottles of wine, all different and only a few bottles of beer. We drank them out of all of that and headed to a local bar for a few drinks and some local nuts. Mingling was enough for people after a while, so they headed off to a gringo bar, where the rest of the night was spent partying with tourists and overlanders, we left them at 2am, while they were still going strong.

Oh - Did we mention we got to pet Cheetahs in Namibia? Wow, they purr like a motorbike, crazy freaky experience, how did we forget to mention that?

You have to love hindsight, and thinking back what a trip it was, cheetahs, seals and lions, desert dunes, gemsbok and tiny spiders, hippos, crocs, beers, tents, corks, long days, wooden masks, dead vleis and so much more that we will remember with time, once we have finally digested the hectic, whirlwind of the last 3 weeks.

So suffice of to say our 24 hours in Zimbabwe including the falls, the market, getting to and from the market, drinking at a local bar and onwards to a tourist haunt. Completely exhausted we packed up the following morning and caught a taxi to the border to Zambia where we are enjoying fending for ourselves in one of the best hostels in the last 8 months, Jolly Boys. Crossing the border was kind of a sad thing, we say we are looking for what Africa really is, and waiting for our transport we sat there talking with a young man, who remembered us from the market the day before. We weren't going to buy anything from him, and even though he probably could be off trying to sell wares and make ends meet elsewhere he sat there telling us about his country, his language and his life. No matter how hard things were for him, he had a smile and we joked freely with him like we had known him all his life. Sometimes when travelling you get your guard up, you have to becareful after all, but it was a reminder that there are great people out there, and of all the places we have travelled so far Zimbabwe has been in the worst of states, but we would have loved to have more time to travel it. We left it with a smile, but with a heart wishing for more.

For now we are just happy to be on our own, back on the road again.

Swakopmund, Namibia - Okavanga Delta, Botswana: Blurry Beer Goggle Landscapes

2007-05-01T09:49:00.000-04:00

So when are we really in Africa? These days it kind of feels like we are drifting in and out in some sort of drunken haze. We have covered so much distance in such a short time, seen so much and met so many people.

The tour is both a blessing and a hindrance. Gone are the early mornings searching for your bus or trying to find a hostel, and instead are the early mornings up to watch tour mates struggling to pack efficiently or break down their tent. Frustrations have grown on us at times, as people seem to loose their minds after not showering for three days, and the idea of having a chore as simple as doing the dishes can be a rough day for some.

BUT that aside the people we have met on the tour, while not all like us, have taught us how to relax and have given us a different kind of friendship that grows through the laughs and the frustrations that can be shared day in and day out.

We have travelled north and westwards stopping to see a sea lion colony on the Atlantic coast and moving inwards to visit odd rock formations at the tiny village of Spitzkoppe. Onwards and north-eastwards we travelled to Etosha National Park where we took in several days of tour mates drinking and doing game drives for animals. While the lions have still elluded us we were woken up in the middle of the night; their chilling roars and grunts just outside of the fence of the campground. We were up early every night and in bed late, as the waterholes are lit up at night and we enjoyed a few beers while watching giraffes go spread eagle just to get a drink. Days were spent spotting Gemsbock, Impala, Springbok, wildebeasts, giraffes, elephants, Red Heartbeast and many more animals.

Onwards and into Botswana we have moved to take in a few days in the Okavanga Delta, which is a large swamping river delta home to all of the above mentioned animals. We were poled in by locals in wooden hollowed out canoes and we spent two nights bushcamping in the wild. So wild they say that it is pristine. While we didnt quite agree with pristine, we did have to give it to them that they did take every trace with them, and we also did have to have a few people up all night stoking the fire to keep away the animals. We took in a walk into the bush where we heard the sounds of lions, and as we tracked the lion we came across elephants, hippos, zebras, impalas and other such animals all in the wild and with our guide having the security of a cellphone and binoculars in case of an attack.

While the tour has been a nice relaxing break, it has also been quite tiring with almost every morning starting around 530am and going as late as people can make it. We usually drop out around 10pm, but a lot of our tour mates keep it going much later than that. Sometimes you really feel like you could be in Africa, when you are sitting around the fire in the middle of the wilderness listening to the mournful sounds of hyenas and the grunting of wildebeast and lions. Then to add to the wild sounds, the locals occasional will sing and dance in a harmony that can be matched nowhere else in the world. But then you are just as quickly serranded by the sounds of drunken tourmates singing "Sweet Caroline" or "Roxanne."

Flying by in our giant truck past villages and shacks you really do get to see the living conditions for many of these people is quite poor. But hardly have we seen a sullen face. Children will often run waving at the truck and villagers often wave and smile as we pass. Which is not to say everything is rosy, there are many people who ask for money, and it is a hard thing not to give when people have so little in their lives. But, and it is hard to remember, encouraging a begging culture is not a good thing, instead we prefer to give out healthy food or give money in exchange for a craft.

If one thing that can be added is that the tour is kind of an odd continuation of what we found in South Africa, that we are kind of in an isolated bubble, where we stay at campsites and hostels and visit parks and attractions that only foreigners or rich locals have access to. You start to wonder is this what it is all about, travelling in a bubble? How do we get out of that bubble? Africa is a land of a thousand misconceptions and stories, many of them not true, but just as many based upon horrifying truths, ranging from AIDS to rape and violent crime. We are still trying to figure out how to get under the skin of Africa?

Cape Town, South Africa - Swakopmund, Namibia: The High's and Low's on the Party Bus - er...truck

2007-04-22T09:20:00.000-04:00

Over a week now on the party truck and so much has happened. As said, we were a little sceptical about doing an overland tour and especially for three weeks, and so far some of our fears have been both right and wrong.

Our meeting the night before consisted of being encouraged to drink heavily to get to know our tour mates, and the day of boarding the bus (which our tour "leader" insists upon calling a "truck") two of our tour mates showed up with 3 - 24's of beer, several bottles of wine and a few 26'ers of spirits, which they also went through within the first 5 days on the road.

That being said, it has not been all bathroom toilets and hangovers. These drinkers and the rest of the crew, while enjoying the drinks of life are very inclusive and genuinely fun people to be around. They take to heart the saying "go hard or go home", as the nights are filled with fun and the days just don't stop there.

Most of the first week was spent driving through some amazing scenery. The north of South Africa quickly turned into barren rolling hills with a few quiver trees and scrub brush attempting to survive in the scorching surroundings. We spent time on the Orange River where some people went canoeing and others relaxed and drank. Crossing into Namibia it got even more barren - barren, but BEAUTIFUL. Reminds us a lot of Bolivia, except being on a tour makes it somewhat sugar coated. The land is sparsley populated and concentrated in a few centres, so entire days are spent flying over dusty gravel roads passing by virtual desert on all sides.

From red sandy dunes to flat parched yellow grass, the land is lonely, forlorn and ruggedly beautiful. It is amazing still to pass by animals that live in this landscape such as ostrich and the beautiful Gemsbok. We went on a desert walk with a local guide, who picked out tiny footprints and brought the seemingly barren sandy desert alive with mice, beatles, jackles and gemsbok. We took in a Vlei, or a dried up water hole with dead trees, and apparently the filming spot for part of The Cell with Jennifer Lopez. Continuing on our "famous people-were-here-once" tour, we are now in Swakopmund, Namibia, where Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt holed up to have their baby not too long ago. And---get this!--- apparently our cook, Franko, was one of the cooks for Survivor and also on Tomb Raider.

Anyway, the tour, so there are 15 of us on this kind of giant truck with seats and a cooler for beer. Our tour guide is a Canadian doing his first solo tour with us, and although there is a fair amount of drinking and the general age level is a young one, this isn't some frosh tour week. People are friendly and we consist of Canadians, Aussies, Germans, Americans, a Belgian and a Norweigan. Some of the people are even going on after the three weeks and are traveling with this company for up to 56 days!

Life is definitely more expensive on the tour, but traveling through Namibia there is virtually no public transport and hours of barren nothingness, so a tour or renting your own car is really the only way to go. In the coming weeks we work further north, away from the Kalahari Desert and into big game country. Our time in Swakopmund has been spent getting Chris to see a doctor, we thought he might have had his cold sores on his eyeballs again, but it turned out to be a bad case of pink eye. Other than that we have watched our tour mates throw themselves out of planes, board down sand dunes, rip themselves to shreds with quads, kayak the ocean and visit townships, all of course for a lot of money, which we don't have, hence us just watching and enjoying the scenery.

For now the tour travelling may not be the same exciting challenge as getting to a bus or finding a new town, but we are learning many other things about other people, about relationships and feelings, about drama, about chillaxing, about how great a cold beer can be after a 40c desert day, and of course about more drinking games than we thought existed.

The Drakensburg: Plateau Mountains, San Paintings and Spitting Cobras

2007-04-12T06:40:00.000-04:00

After a couple of days again, back in Durban, we headed off to the Drakensberg Mountains. This is where South Africa borders the constitutional monarchy of Losotho. It also has some of the highest points in southern africa, and a spectacular setting to do some hiking (if we had planned better or had more time).

While in Durbs, we decided to take in a western movie and settled on Ghost Rider, we would not recommend it, and along the lines of our Argentinian movie going exerience, the popcorn was just not the same as back home. We also took time to watch some surfing and think about our towels and Justine's shirt which we had left hanging on the line in St.Lucia.

Time in the Drakensburg was well spent. We spent one day on a brief tour of Lesotho, by climbing high up the Sani Pass road on a series of switch backs that would rivel many of the roads in the Yukon for roughness. The tour was interesting, as we had lunch overlooking the mountains of Lesotho and also spent time visiting a local village woman. She baked some bread which we tried, as well as some local beer. It was quite good and we spent time learning about her life, without a husband and many kids, and how she only lives in the high mountains in the summer to sell wares and will travel by foot down the valley for the winter months.

Lesotho is quite remote and many of these people have to travel a day just to get supplies from the cities. As we learned on our last day, the reason it takes a day is mostly because local transport can be interesting. True local, local transport are Mini Bus Taxi's. These are little mini vans which should probably hold only about 12 at the most, but we were in one with 21 people. They cram as many people in as they can and they only leave when full. We spent 4.5hours waiting for one to take us 20km down the road. We waited that long because they were waiting for another mini bus taxi from Lesotho. All in all to get back to Durban it took us about 12 hours to go about 200km, and that was just a small taste of what these people have to do in order to travel.

Other time was spent hiking into the mountains of the Drakensburg to take in Sani Bushman paintings of animals and people dating back thousands and thousands of years. We had to hike to the rocks where the paintings were, and on route, a fellow backpacker almost stepped on a snake. It ended up being a spitting cobra, which is able to accurately spit its venom up to 3m. Luckily, there were no issues and we got away with just a close view of this attractively coloured snake! The paintings were beautifully drawn in different shads of red, white and black and depict humans in many different forms of dress and daily life. You are able to walk right up to the paintings and seeing them with the dramatic backdrop of the mountains of South Africa was really a beautiful sight.

After all this fun and hiking, we had to call it to a close a day early as we managed to convince the Baz Bus to carry our towels without us to Durban. We went back to Durbs a day early to get our towels, only to find that locating our towels in the bowels (haw haw) of the backpackers was harder than we thought. Finally, the day we were to board a bus to Cape Town the towels were found, only for Justine to realise she hasn't seen her brown shirt in two weeks... not sure what happened to that. Ahh the joys of travelling.

Boarded a bus to Cape Town and we were reminded of something else interesting we have seen, fake trees. They have cell phone polls that they decorate, rather well in fact, like trees. Until you get up close you can't tell they are fake, and even then, surprisingly, they aren't tacky, they are just a little taller than normal trees.

Now you may ask, why are we heading back to Cape Town????

Plans have changed, Madagascar is going to be another time for us, instead we are heading north to Namibia. The flight to Madagascar was over 1000 USD each, and we have decided to channel that money into a 3 week tour from Cape Town through Namibia, Botswana and ending in Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. Not sure if a 3 week tour is for us, but we are told that travelling Nambia and Botswana either requires a lot of time or a lot of money, which seems to be the case for most things in Africa, but a little more so there. Not wanting to deal with buying/renting a car, we decided to relax and let a tour do the touring for us.... so we head out on April 15.

Blogs may be few and far between, or not at all (truth be told we know nothing about the tour we are taking, so this could get interesting).... But the map is updated so at least you should know where we are, even if we aren't posting.

Happy Easter to all .

Milwanwe Reserve, Swaziland to St. Lucia, S.Africa: Chillin' Like a Hippo

2007-04-05T03:36:00.000-04:00

Ahh it is all a blur of expensive internet, backpackers and buses, but we will provide the recap, as it has been a while since we last posted....

So, from Kruger we jumped the Baz Bus and headed to Swaziland. To our surprise, we were the only backpackers on board. We had taken the local buses along the coast, but because there are a lot more backpackers on vacation along the coast the Baz Bus was always so hopping and busy, so we were surprised to be the only ones on board. The drive was nice though, and crossing the border was very simple. Swaziland is a seperate country, a Kingdom infact, within the borders of South Africa. It is one of the only true Kingdoms left in Africa.

We stayed in a great backpackers within a reserve there. There were a number of animals within the park, and we got up close and personal with an ostrich (it stole our cheese and cracker lunch one day!) and we enjoyed the warthogs nibbling at our feet. But, for the most part, we just chilled out and relaxed poolside with the mountains of Swaziland and the wild impalas and zebras grazing nearby. Sometimes you need that!

In hindsight, Swaziland is one of our first countries to make it on the list of places to go back to. With a car or a little more time there are a lot of remote areas to visit and a very rural population that differs from some of the more developed parts of South Africa. As an interesting note, the backpackers that we stayed at was almost entirely populated by Canadians. Go figure, no one really talks about travelling South Africa back home, and here they all are.

Our next stop was St Lucia, back in South Africa. St Lucia is a estuary zone that is recognized as a World Heritage Area. The town is really quite small, and the main street is said to have once been a Hippo trail. Seemed far fetched, until we were called out of the hostal on our first night to see the Hippos that were out of the water and in a small grassy area directly across from our hostal! It was amazing. You were able to get really quite close, and there were also some safari vehicles there that lit them up with spotlights allowing us to get a very good view of them. Hippos have very sensitive skin that burns and they only come out at night. Getting close to them is rare, and they can be very agressive, so we were quite lucky to see them, and right in the town to boot.

The next day we decided to visit a Zulu village in the area. We were guided through the modern village and visited a traditional healer. The village is said to be one of the fastest growing in South Africa. The people there were displaced by the government during the apartheid, but have since moved back as the farming in the area is superior to the inland. The issue is that more people are migrating than the area can sustain.

At the spiritual healer, we had our fortunes told. Not to be too much of a non-believer, neither of us really were overwhelmed with the insight. Chris heard that he would have a good life, he didn't need to worry about his future anymore, and would have two boys. Justine is in the lucky (she was repeatedly told this), she is going to have a good life, a long life, but she needs to stop drinking cold water as she has kidney problems, and should only drink warm water. She will have a big house and again be in the lucky. Nothing was said about her kids, and she had a water bottle sitting beside her during the entire fortune reading.

We ended the day with a tour of a recreation of a traditional Zulu village. We ended up investigating the traditional homes, dressed in traditional clothing, and finally watched and participated in some traditional dancing! Children roamed the streets, fetching water from wells and playing with created toys. Most of the houses were traditional made of either mud brick or woven thatch, while some were more modern out of concrete block. It was an interesting experience, as we felt a little singled out as the only outsiders, but having a local girl as a guide, allowed us to feel welcome and gave us insight into their lives and beliefs.

Kruger NP, South Africa: Big 4 Out Of 5

2007-03-30T10:08:00.000-04:00

So we survived, or well, we are at an internet cafe, so we still have to get back to our hostel, but we managed to figure out the driving-on-the-other-side-of-the-road thing, and doing that while dodging giraffes, elephants and all sorts of wild animals. Our trusty vehicle was a little Volkswagon Chico, and even though it was small, it served as good transport.

We weren't sure what to expect, especially when all we could really reserve were camping pitches. And given that we had left our tent in Canada we were hoping we could even find a tent to rent. Our hostel kicked in with one they had lying around, and even though it had no pegs and was missing a pole it still held out the rain (sort of) and provided a place to sleep.

The park is actually quite big and there are many roads both paved and gravel. This meant that even though it is a busy time in the park, you can drive for some time without seeing anything but animals, and there are a lot of them. The short list of animals we saw are:

Giraffes

Buffalo

Elephants

Impalas

Waterbucks

Wildebeests

Jaguar

Common Duikers

Steenboks

Tourtoises

African Wild Cat

Zebras

Warthogs

Hippos

Rhinos

and more birds than you can shake a stick at..

A few things struck us as we drove the park. One was that there is a lot of driving to be had, but with a lot of driving there are A LOT OF ANIMALS. The speed limit on the paved roads is 50km/h and you need to go slower to really spot them all. Often times they are right on the road, including giant elephants and giraffes. (this can be quite startling!)

It really is amazing to see the animals in their natural habitats, and relatively undisturbed by the massive human presence. They graze by the roads and in the land and it really was amazing how well adapted these animals are to their surroundings. Giraffes looming above you munching peacefully, not caged in and able to reach to the top branches. Elephants literally sneaking up on us and playing in the water holes, fanning themselves with their ears and using their trunks for just about everything. Warthogs staring at us and running with their tails held high. Impala EVERYWHERE. It truly was a great experience, and of all the things to marvel at, we marveled at not only the landscape and the animals, but how well Disney is able to capture some of these animals unique and interesting characteristics.

Umkomaas to Jo'burg: Pulling a Cotopaxi

2007-03-25T12:54:00.000-04:00

So diving is turning out to be another expensive habit. We paid a lot of money to be able just to get to Umkomaas, the town near the Aliwhal Shoal. And then there was more money involved, including gear rental and paying for the dive and the room, which wasn't cheap by our travellers budgets standards.

Now did we mention this freak storm that has hit the coast? So, it really was kind of a fluke, not only did it hit on the spring equinox, but on that day they were due to have the highest tide in over 20 years, these two factors, combined with a storm in the Indian Ocean brought giant swells to the coast, erroding the coastline, pulling roads and buildings into the ocean. The shoal has been desimated and the visability under water was next to nothing. Not the best time for a dive for beginners. We were with a large group which multiplied factors and were given inproper weighting. A lot of things combined to make half of the group have to abort the dive, while those who remained underwater saw next to nothing.

sigh.

So with that we retreated to Durban and are now in Jo'burg. They say Jo'burg can be dangerous, and when we arrived in the bus station, immediatly people are trying to "help" you. One of the guards said he was "tipped" off that people could be following us. So we had to wait for our hostel to pick us up under the watchful eye of bus station guards. Hard to say if there was real danger in the bus station, and one never likes to believe rumours, but it was an interesting introduction to Johannesburg.

Tomorrow we head out on our whirlwind tour to Nelspruit and onwards for 4 days in Kruger National park. We are renting a car and driving ourselves around, so wish us luck figuring out a standard on the other side of the road!

As a note the drive to Jo'burg was beautiful with huge cliffs and dry mountains spread out among dry plains. It was what you see of Africa in the travel books, just no wild animals, only cows and huts. We will probably see more of the "stereotypical travel book look" in the coming days, get our fill of zebras and lions and then move on. (Easter weekend is more like two weeks here, so we were rushing to Kruger to avoid the crowds, only to find out they will be there in full force anyway... hopefully not another Machu Picchu style photo fest of avoiding humans in the photos)

Coffe Bay to Umkomaas: Laid Back Feel except Transport

2007-03-23T05:50:00.000-04:00

Coffee Bay was wonderfully welcoming. The hostal was different, in a good way. Upon arrival, it seemed like we were stepping back into our first year uni frosh days: lots of backpackers (hippies and surfers), bar, free arrival drink (which you are only allowed to drink with your left hand or you have to chug it - drinking game anyone?), music, etc. But, the place was very community orriented. They hired local students as guides, as long as they remained in school, created a scholarship to send one student a year to high school for the required 3 years, support local handicraft, etc. We were treated to a traditional dance by local teenagers from the village nearby which was amazing to watch as they sang, whistled and beat upon drums.

We spent our time there trying to figure out what we are going to be doing in S Africa...we think we have it now! (check in on our calendar for an update) And, we managed to do a 4 hour hike along the coast as well. It was hot thirsty work! We were of course followed by school children wanting to be our guides and trying to sell wares. We are definitely in much more of what we imagined Africa to be like. Farm houses and huts dotted jagged coast line and wavy fields of grass covered the hills, it was very picturesque.

We left Coffee Bay yesterday with a desire to go diving. But, as some of you may have heard, S Africa's Indian Coast was hit by the largest swells in over 30 years. Don't worry we are safe, but it has affected the visibility of some of the diving spots as well as caused Millions of Rands of damage to coastline businesses. So that, and things have closed, or changed operating procedures...not to bore you with details, but the first place we stopped didn't offer any diving right now, so we are now are trying to get to Umkomas (currently waiting for a pick up and we found internet, hence the blog).

Our plan is to try and get a couple of dives in at Aliwal Shoal, supposedly ranked in the top ten dives in the world! Then it is going to be off to Kruger National Park for a self-directed safari! We are trying to arrange renting a car and booking some huts in the park to stay at. Our plan is 4 days in the park, and hopefully seeing the BIG 5! From there it is going to be a whirlwind tour backtracking and such, and we hope to work out the details.

All this planning is getting to us... arg.

Hogsback to Coffee Bay: From Middle Earth to Africa

2007-03-20T11:56:00.000-04:00

Winding, twisting our way from the beach bliss up to Hogsback was a treat, that was just starting. Monkeys, tropical forests, mountain views and thatched (sp?) roofs waited for us in our retreat at Away With The Fairies. Although it rained we still enjoyed a fireplace in our room and misted in views with monkeys hopping in the branches.

Back to earth, we went on our way to Coffee Bay and we seemed to finally enter Africa. Africa so far has been chilled out beach towns and swanky retreats, but to get to Coffee Bay we passed through rural areas where thatched roofs and mud brick homes passed by along with many moments of cow dodging, goats on the road and many a school child walking home. There were no more white people in these towns. Friendly faces waved at us, but our van must have stood out with its all white passengers.

Coffee Bay seems to be the place to party and relax for a few days or years. The theme party in the bar tonight is "Night of the Living Dead" and we have already had our free welcome drink. This is the circuit for recent frosh leaders and high school kids, but the high school ends there! In this circuit, no one is left out or made fun of. It is a real, friendly atmosphere. Could be the availablitiy of certain herbs, but that is just what we hear, something about Pondo Fever.

Okay. This keyboard has had one too many beers spilled on it. Too Sticky.

Kynsna: Friendly Beachtown Blues

2007-03-16T06:36:00.000-04:00

Along the coast. Everything here is a little different. People are friendly, buses aren't as available and they sell cheddar at the grocery store. Adjusting to backpacking in South Africa is an everyday adventure, from remembering that they are speaking english to you, to realising that there are less buses, and yes, when they say the only bus that comes through town is at 2.30am, that is the only bus. Highlights include not having to pay to use a bathroom, and TP actually stocked up.

Internet is big money too, and thus blogs are experiencing a new revolution - being cut short.

We are moving along the coast in the next few days, enjoying the surf, the hot weather and the white beaches.

Capetown: Getting a Jump Start

2007-03-13T10:58:00.000-04:00

Capetown and we are attempting to get back into the swing of things. Taking a week off in Canada was a nice holiday from our holiday, but the week off, combined with time spent relaxing in Argentina and Chile seem to have made us soft.

Not that being soft is a bad thing here.

The atmosphere in Capetown is pretty relaxed and the backpacker scene here is young and vibrant. The weather is hot and the views of craggy dry cliffs from the surrounding mountains are quite beautiful.

They say South Africa is the rainbow nation, and so far we have seen that. Capetown, at least in the central tourist areas, is a mix of many races, colours and faces. The people are pretty friendly and it is pretty hard getting used to the fact that they actually speak english here, even if the accent can be hard to understand.

The flight here was long and we had stunning views of the Alps and the deserts of northern Africa. Yesterday we spent the day wiping sleep out of our eyes and figuring out cell phone issues. Today we climbed Table Mountain for views of the city bowl of Capetown.

Time will now be spent figuring out where we are going and how. There is a very good backpacking route here, so much that they have a special backpackers bus that hits a lot of the main stops. As with anything that is touristy it is more expensive, but it does go to places that will be a lot harder and time consuming than the regular buses. This is why we mean we have to get back in the swing of things, because the backpacker bus would be easier, but where is the adventure and intrigue? Perhaps we save that for Madagascar.

Midland: Time Warp

2007-03-09T00:08:00.000-04:00

Our time back in Ontario seems a blur of photographs once past, brought to life and hours and hours infront of the computer. Once again we are just about packed up and ready to hit the road. Tomorrow we head to Toronto for a family visit and following that we fly on Saturday via Amsterdam to Cape Town, South Africa.

This half of the journey is from Cape Town, South Africa overland north towards Nairobi, Kenya and then onwards via the air to Cairo, Egypt. All with a time limit of just over 4 months. It is going to be rushed, we know that much, but definitely an adventure.

On another note of adventures past, the photos are up. If you did not recieve any invites, you missed out on about 15 or so albums, so let us know!

Also check out our new addition to the blog, an interactive map.

Keep checking the blog, we love the comments and we always love to hear what everyone back home is up to.

Midland: Family Day Out

2007-03-05T17:21:00.000-04:00

So as most of you know life back home has been spent uploading photos and sending out a flurry of photo albums. But all is not what it seems, yes we have had time for other things. We visited with Justine's father's mum this weekend, but before that we headed out for a little winter fun snowshoeing with the pooches.

It pretty much snowed since we got here and then today the temperature dropped. So now Justine is sitting by the computer typing photo captions with frozen fingers, but it will all be worthwhile, as we hope to have all the photos done by today.

Midland: Home Sweet Home?

2007-03-02T14:47:00.000-04:00

24 hours ago we were racing to the airport in Buenos Aires, and now we are in Midland: Justine has already had her Hep A shot and been to the doctor and Chris has already had his T-Ho's coffee. Dusty has already managed to chew one of our souvenirs and Justine has already been asked what she is going to do with her life when she is done travelling.

In further news, Chris has just announced he is going to have a brownie... and Justine, suffering from withdrawl has already seriously contemplated bartering and arguing with her doctors bill. Both Chris and Justine agreed the T'Ho's english was really fast - so many things to choose from... and stores, pharmacies etc. ACTUALLY take visa here... they don't just say they do. And, hay, TP can actually go in the toilet here, have to try and remember that one.

All this with being here 4 hours....which brings the question, why are we blogging already?

Winter storms, torrential Buenos Aires rain and failing radar could not stop our South American trip from ending and we arrived only two hours behind schedule. We are now unpacking, starting our "To Do" list and are even considering doing some laundry.

Since the amount of people checking the blog these days is out of control and flooding our blog, we will be sure to keep everyone up to date so that you don't suffer from withdrawl.

But we will try to post a few memories, recaps and anticdotes for those reading.

Maybe for now we will have a nap.

Buenos Aires: Decaying Grandeur

2007-03-01T10:07:00.000-04:00

So a week in Buenos Aires and it just wasn´t enough.

What a city, what a city. A city that has to be felt as much as seen. A city that can get under your skin, and it is hard to say why.

Perhaps it is the old decaying buildings, or the attempts at modernization. Perhaps it is the deep culture from it's street side cafes and busy back street parilla's or the deep love of tango. Exploring the city is in someway similar to tango it must be danced, explored and felt.

We spent long hours in the day walking the streets, from the ritzy houses and shops of Palermo. We explored the decaying and wonderful cemetary of La Recolta, the resting place for Evita and the city's elite. A cemetary full of opulence and decay. Some graves almost could have been store fronts, displaying caskettes, pictures and even plants through large glass panes. Others were full of garbage, dust, cobwebs and even open caskettes. Touristy it can be, but wandering the back alleys was a lesson in architectural stlyes and a forgotten salute to the dead.

We visited a tango hall and spent time at cafe's enjoying a mid afternoon coffee and media lunas. Free tango exhibitions abound and we took in a few roadside displays. We were fortunate to be there during the Tango Festival and took in some lessons as well as some shopping.

The cobblestone district of San Telmo sold everything from evening gloves to old gramophones. We visited La Boca where the corrugated steel buildings are painted lively colours and the colours of the local futbal team.

Our last night we ate a steak at a local parilla with locals. Huge steak, bottle of wine, salad and chips for under 20USD. No frills and what a tender steak. Seemed like a fitting end to our time in South America.

Leaving tomorrow is a melancholy thought for us. It feels like we have completed all we wanted to get done down here, but it was just enough to scratch the surface and to reveal what a wonderful and magical continent South America is, full of diverse and intriguing cultures, wildlife and sights. We will be back.

Puerto Iguazu: On A Mission

2007-02-22T09:28:00.000-04:00

So another touristy day. We started it out tired and somewhat grumpy, bumping and flying down the road towards the Minas de Wanda. We didn´t really know what they were going to be or how much fun they would contain... so they didn´t really have to live up to any expectations. They weren´t more than a few small tunnels where miners were looking for crystals and other precious stones. They were interesting to see and it was fun to watch the miners get all excited showing the different rocks.. but that was about it.

From there we FLEW as fast as our driver could go 240km down to San Ignacio, the ruins of a Jesuit mission, that was swallowed up by the jungle. Now there are lots of craft stalls and some restaurants, but it is still fascinating to see the jungle all grown up around the ruins, one tree actually completely swallowed a column.

Last night we ate out at a parilla, stuffing ourselves to the max.

Puerto Iguazu: The Neverending Day

2007-02-20T18:57:00.000-04:00

Two marathon bus rides later, and we are in Puerto Iguazu. It took 18 hours from Pto. Madryn to Buenos Aires and then another 18 hours to Pto Iguazu.

It is amazing what 36 hours of driving can do to the scenery. We are again in JUNGLE! It is hot and humid! And, the vegetation is totally different. Pto Iguazu is lush! And it smells like summer here.

Because we are masacists, we headed right out to the falls today. After checking into our hostal, we went back to the bus station and jumped a local bus out to Parque Nacional de Iguazu. We spent the entire day walking around, fighting the crowds and attempting to get to the front of the catwalks for the unabstructed views of Iguazu Falls.

As the travel book said, from certain points you get a very good understanding of what earlier sailors thought when they believed that the earth was flat and you could sail off the edge of the planet. The falls were very pretty, and very picturesque. But, it was a long day.

Some would say our trip is completing itself as Justine´s sharp eyes spotted a capabeara, which elluded us three months ago in Rurre. We also saw an armadillo a week ago on our way to Puerto Madryn... so we are now happy campers.

We have a strong desire to be back in Buenos Aires and spend at least 6 days there exploring the city. With that in mind, we are going to see some of the Jesuit Missions that remain as ruins here in the NE corner of Argentina tomorrow. Then we are back on the bus to Buenos Aires on Thursday Feb. 22.

Puerto Madryn: Sad to Go

2007-02-18T13:03:00.000-04:00

So today we leave Puerto Madryn. The weather held for the last few days so we finished up our PADI course.. or sort of. We wrote the final exam today and just have to pass that.....

Yesterday we went to Punta Tombo to see the Magallanic penguins there. They say there are close to 1,000,000 penguins in the colony, and the most of any colony outside the Antarctic. It was a long day on a tour bus, just to get an hour and a half there, but it was great fun dodging penguins on the path, laughing at the feather shedding babies and watching the lines of penguins entering the water.

We stopped in Gaimen, a Welsh settlement, on the way back to Puerto Madryn and we decided to splurge on some Welsh tea. We dined with some South Africans and chatted about our future travels as we ate pastries and biscuits until we were stuffed and downed it all with REAL TEA and milk, WITHOUT HAVING TO ASK FOR IT.

Tonight, after we get our exam checked with leave for Buenos Aires. It is close to an 18 hour haul and then we hope to catch a bus immediately for another 18 hours to Puerto Igazu. Our time is cut a little short so we will be there only a few days before we have to return to Buenos Aires and then go to Canada....

Time here in Puerto Madryn has been kind of fun as the people at the dive shop are pretty fun and when the weather is down we spent time drinking mate outside the shop and just chilling.. It will be kind of sad to leave today...

Peurto Madryn: Are You For SCUBA?

2007-02-15T19:27:00.000-04:00

We are now well into our PADI Open Water Diver Course. We have accomplished over half of the program and should be complete in one day if the weather cooperates.

We were supposed to be able to complete the course in four days, but the weather did not cooperate yesterday, and we were not able to complete our first dives. So, we had to book an extra day here (that means one less day in Buenos Aires).

Today we managed to complete three dives. Our first was in 2.5m of water and was our first experience breathing underwater. The key is supposed to be controlling your breathing, which is harder than it sounds especially when it is your first experience doing something that feels so unnatural. During this first dive, we practiced the basic skills that are necessary incase there are problems, like getting water in your mask, or loosing your regulator.

From there, we went off to practice these same skills in 6m of water. We also had the opportunity to work on obtaining neutral boyancy, which is necessary to explore the deep, neither floating on the top, nor sinking to the bottom. After that, we did a dive at 6m.

Neither of us claim to be totally taken with the sport at this time. The dives were great, but not amazing. First off, you spend a lot of time in this first dives concentrating on the skills, and breathing, and remembering all the things you are supposed to be doing, so you do not actually take the time to enjoy your surroundings. Secondly, there was only 3m of visibility, so it was fairly murky down there. This said, we did see aquatic life down there. We had the opportunity to hold a live starfish, hold sea urchins (small ones), and hand feed fish at the bottom of the ocean.

Tomorrow, we are supposed to complete our other two dives necessary to be certified. These dives are to take place in around 12-15m. then we have to learn about dive tables (nitrogen in our bodies) and write and exam. Then we will be all ready to explore the deep.

All technicalities of our dive training aside, it is at first a sport that requires some mental battles. There is something strangely hard to swallow about breathing air from a tank while the top of the water is so far above you. Remaining calm, breathing and in control is key, and is suprisingly hard to do at times as you practise loosing your regulator and other activities. There is somewhat of a mind battle that goes on as your eye level slips below the waters surface and the sound of your breath echoes in your head. There is a hint now of the peace and calm that the underworld can hold, but for now just the act of thinking of breathing and the realisation that the safety and ease of the life above isn´t right at your fingertips, can be an exercise in mind control.

On a seperate note... Chris upon furthing his melting rampage ( he got ahold of Justine´s socks in Ushuaia) decided to leave his ripped, torn, discoloured, stinking and otherwise rotting Merrell shoes (we have now tested a few Merrell shoes and would recommend to you other brands) on the bus and now plans to complete the rest of our time in SA shoeless. Plans had been in the works to post pictures of his disintegrating shoes in a ¨Shoes for Africa¨campaign.. but it seems like the replacements will have to come sooner as he is now a sandals only man and no stories can live up to the pictures of his trail worn sieves-Merrell-called-shoes. Here´s hoping for some cheap Hi Teks in Buenos Aires.

We should note for Merrell´s posterity that Justine´s almost identical (isn´t it cheesy when couples wear nearly the same shoes) shoes are somewhat fine, if not the Gortex waterproofing.

Puerto Madryn: Suddenly Summer

2007-02-13T17:23:00.000-04:00

We made it to Puerto Madryn a few days ago after more than a day and a half busing only to get about one third of the way up the side of Argentina. Still such a long way to go until Buenos Aires and then another 20 hour bus ride just to get to Igazu Falls.

We have decided to stop longer in Puerto Madryn, other than visiting the penguins near here, we are taking our PADI Open Water Diving Course..

We will probably be in this sunny beach town until at least this Saturday. We are somehow enjoying studying, reading, sweating and relaxing.

Paso de la Oveja: Those Stepping Stone are Horse Bones

2007-02-08T15:20:00.000-04:00

Hike, what hike? Pass, what pass?

Hiking in Tierra Del Fuego can be interesting and we found that out the hard way. With four straight days of rain, rain, snow, rain and rain the trail was bogged down. When they say mud up to your knees, while they don´t mean actually stepping in it, but with a days worth of trudging in it and coupled with rain, Justine finally got what that meant.

Our first day didn´t involve much of an altitude gain, but we soon found ourselves above the snow line and camping beside a beautiful lake and its snow covered surroundings. Snow that doesn´t just fall, but sticks to everything. Wet snow, the kind that bogs down the earth and everything is soon a swamp. We arrived at the first camp completely soaked and freezing as the high water levels had washed out stumps used to cross and we were forced to fiorjd bare foot.

We spent a cold, cold night and after another night of more snow. The next morning we opted to go back the way we came when the pass was completly covered in snow and there were white out conditions. We took our time and spent the next night at a camp less than an hour from the beginning of the trail. Although it was snowy, it was one of the most beautiful sights we have seen, when it briefly cleared that is. Mountain ranges tumbled into the distance, completely white with brand new snow, it almost felt like winter, and it reminded us of home.

The evening and the night were rainy, but the weather was nice and we were warm until just before dawn. As the hike out was quite short, and the morning a little sunny, we enjoyed our time in the tent. Breakfast was oatmeal, tea, and a small cake that we enjoyed from our sleeping bags. We lazed and read our books for a bit too long, and ended up packing as it began to sprinkle out again.

The hike out may have been short, but we were soaked and muddy from the previous days. The previous days rains had accumulated, and the mud had increased, so, it was a slippery mucky proposition on the way out. We had to hike out to the main highway, where we managed to get a cab and returned to our hostal.

The remainder of the day was spent cleaning up from our adventure. Our hostal does have a laundry room, so we washed just about everything we had, and spent the rest of our time idle, reading, drinking hot chocolate, and basking in the warmth of the heaters here.

We are going to spend tomorrow window shopping with the hordes of cruise ship tourists, and have a bus booked to head out on the morning of the 10th. Hopefully, to warmer climates! (Puerto Madryn to see the Penguins).

Ushuaia: The End of the World

2007-02-05T13:57:00.000-04:00

So, one more 12 hour bus ride, and we reached our most southernly destination in S America, and also, the most southernly "city" in the world.

We are now in Ushuaia, which is a port city located along the Begal Channel, and is jumping off point for trips to Antarctica. The excursions are a little out of our price range, but we are definetly putting it on our list of future destinations.

Ushuaia is definetly a port town. And although it is a lot bigger than any of the Alaskan port towns we have been to, it is definetly reminisent of the ones we have been to. There are Princess Cruise ships in the harbour, and the mountains seem to jut up out of the ocean. The types and look of the mountains remind us of the Yukon and Alaska.

Our plan is to head out on a three to four day trek tomorrow. We have opted out of the longer one we had planned on doing as their are reports of it being very wet, soggy and marshy. (Chris doesn´t want to get his feet wet, and dampen his mood) We will be back in Ushuaia for a day or two and have booked a bus North on the 10th to Puerto Madryn.

As undesirable as it is, we are going to join the hordes of Cruise Ship passengers and do a little window shopping, and possibly buy a souviner or two from the End of the World.

Torres Del Paine: 99,999 + (and the rest only our feet will know)

2007-02-03T11:42:00.000-04:00

Over 130km and 99,999 plus steps. By "plus" we mean, we now know our pedometer maxes out after so many steps... but our feet assure us it was a hell of a lot.

We budgeted for a 10 day trek, but were able to cut it down to 9 days, and arrived back in Puerto Natales a day early to enjoy a nice sleep, some good food (of which there were many conversations on during the trek) and a couch.

The trek had its ups and downs, but all parties involved agreed that we had great weather, beautiful views and a fine time.

Torres Del Paine lies in Parque National Torres Del Paine which protects Andean steppe, jagged peaks and parts of the Hielo Sur. Torres Del Paine is part of a massif which has been gradually erroded over millions of years by glaciers to leave jagged and polished bones of mountains, thunderous chasms, lush valleys and dry steppe. The Torres del Paine (3 and a half polished granite towers) are giant molars which were once covered in black shale which was gradually worn down by giant glaciers that once covered the land. On the other side of the Paine massif are the Cuernos del Paine, made up of the same granite base with some of the black shale still remaining on their peaks. Words really can´t describe or do justice to the park, which although it recieves thousands upon thousands of tourists annually, still has its wonderous private moments of beauty.

There are two main treks in the park are the 5 day ´W´which takes in the main attractions of the park, but leaves out the back side, and then there is the Paine Circuit, which takes about 10 days and navigates fully around the entire Paine massif. The backside of the Paine Circuit is away from the crowds doing the W and visiting the easy to reach refugios, and is quite remote. By remote we mean only about 25 tents at a campsite, as compared to over 100. The first days involved long days made longer by heavy packs with food and lots and lots of mud. We were lucky that it didn´t rain while on the backside, and thus were only treated to shin deep mud, as opposed to the rumours of ¨knee deep mud¨.

The highlight was the third day as we reached the Paso John Garner, the most remote and higest point on the entire trek, at over 1200m. Coming over the pass we were treated to breathtaking views of Glacier Grey. It had no beginning or end from our view point, just a huge highway of ice blasting through the valley far below us. In the distance, mountains with more glaicers poured into the valley, again words can´t do it justice. A long slippery and muddy descent left us joining the hords on the W circuit.

One of the good and bad things about the park is that access into the park is quite easy. There are many buses which go every day along coupled with daily catamarans which can drop people into places in the park that would take three days to hike into . Refugios have been built, making it technically possible to hike without a tent. Also, equipment and food can be rented and bought, even on the backside, thus making it possible to hike without food or a stove as well. Horses are used to bring in equipment and food and thus some of the trails are quite worn. But there are ways to beat the traffic and loud people, there are harder-to-reach campsites which allow for more intimate experiences and views.

It was also fun to see the same people over and over again despite our daily differences in hiking abilities, such as the brother and sister who never got up until 10am or later and always got there late. Or the other couple where the girlfriend was always nagging on the boyfriend while sitting and watching him cook and put up the tent. Or who would forget the "Terminator" from Montreal who kicked everyone`s ass and just never stopped... Ahh the good times.

On that note we have compiled a list of things not to forget about TDP.

1. People hiking in jeans.
2. Someone packing in 4L of coke.
3. Girl hiking in mukluks.
4. Lady hiking in fur lined sheep skin rap around vest.
5. People with double packs (HUGE 80L backpack and then day pack on the front).
6. People who can´t hike without an Ipod. (some with external speakers)
7. Tent Carnage (people underestimating Patagonian winds and ending up with ruined tents).
8. People wizzing too close to water sources.
9. People showering in water sources.
10. Guicci glasses.
11. People without experience that over packed and were trying to give food away.

Awwww come on, all is not negative. We saw a lot of rediculous things, but the fact that so many people and locals are getting out and enjoying the best that Argentina is uplifting. It is no doubt hard for the government to keep up with the influx, but the services that were offered and the work that is being done there is good.

Highlights included:

1. Glacier Grey plowing through the valley

2. Listening to the many glaciers of the park calve giant chunks of frigid ice

3. The Valle de las Frances and its surrounding jagged peaks

4. Watching wind so strong it was able to blow water falls back up where they came from

5. Listening to the wind

6. Cuernos del Paine and its black shale covered peaks

7. The beautiful and varied blues of the lakes of the park.

8. The colours of the peaks at sunrise

9. Fields and fields of wild daisies

10. The amazing shapes of the wind whipped clouds.

We are sure this list could be way longer, but hopefully some of the pictures help out. - Except now we are having time and money issues uploading pictures.... so you will just have to wait until we catch up on 3 months worth of pictures and send them out to you via Kodak Gallery.

El Calafate - Upsala Glacier - Perito Moreno: Greetings from the Indigo Meat Locker

2007-01-22T20:23:00.000-04:00

From El Chalten to El Calafate, via the Patagonian steppe, otherwise dry barren land of dry grass and pretty much only inhabited by sheep and an ostrich like bird called Nandu.

Once in El Calafate we got right to work and we signed up for some excursions to the nearby Glaciers. They would take place over two days, and would encompass 4 of the main Glaciers in the Parque Nacional Los Glaciers. We knew these were the mainstream tours, but did not overly prepare ourselves.

The first day, we were off to see the two largest glaciers in the Park, the Spagezzini and the Upsala. The Upsala is the heavyweight, largest in over all mass and also has the longest face in the park (some 6 or 7km wide and I think something like 60km long... it is 3 times the size of Buenas Aires). The Spagezzini has the highest face of a glacier that is accessible to the public, with it being 80m to 120m high. Both glaciars grow from the Hielo Sur, the frozen crust of ice, previously talked about in our last blog and covering a large part of the mountains and land in this area.

The day started out with some transportation difficulties (are you surprised Laura?). But without too much difficulty, we were on our way. The trip was to be an all day adventure aboard a Catamaran travelling across the Lago Argentiana, the third largest fresh water lake in S America and the largest in Argentina (has a maximum depth of 700m). Once aboard the boat, it wasn´t difficult to see that this was going to be a different exprience from our other excursions in South America. The boat held 250 people, most of them older retired folk(not that there is anything wrong with that kind of company... it was just a bit of a change).

Once we got past the other people on the trip, we found the sights quite amazing. We started out passing HUGE icebergs in the lake, some much larger than the boat we were in. And were reminded that like any good Titanic Scholar knows, only 15% of the iceberg is visible above the surface. The sights, sounds, proximity to, and specticle of these giant `bergs as well as the glaicer faces were a real treat... that is if you could hear them over the tourists talking and enjoying their drinks cooled with glacier ice.

The following day we were off on another tour of the Glacier Perito Moreno. It is neither the largest nor the tallest glacier, but it is famous for the fact that it is one of the last remaining glaciers on the earth to be advancing and that every few years (although only once in the last 20 years) it grows in the winter blocking off a river of water. When it does this and the ice is strong enough to resist the water in the summer, the water then backs up and floods a huge area, as much as 32m above normal levels. When this happens enormous presure builds up and the ice blockade eventually cannot withstand the presure. The ice block will then, in a series of huge smashes and spandangles, disintegrate in a matter of a day. We saw large chunks about he size of small houses faling off this monster and let us tell you it is much louder than a few of Shawn and Davida´s guns going off.. the creaks and groans, the splooshes and the pops are amazingly loud and it is said that when the ice bridge breaks they could hear the sounds of it over 80 km away in El Calafate...

Facts and tourist chatter aside, it was an amazing visual and auditory treat.

We spent three days camping in El Calafate because it was cheap, easy and we got a bbq. Last night it rained and today we hopped a bus to Puerto Natales. We got our first hostal in about 2 or 3 weeks and plan to enjoy a good night sleep. Since we still have things to figure out we will spend another day here in Puerto Natales.. and hopefully we will have time to post another blog or to update with photos....... but don´t be kept up if we dont.

And as a reminder, we are heading out on the Paine Circuit which is a 9 to 10 day hike in Torres Del Paine National Park. Following that we are on a tight schedule to get down to Ushuaia (the most southernly city in the world, apparently, and the furthest south we are going) and then from there we have to get back up north and conclude our time here. Hard to believe there is a time limit for us....

Fitz Roy - Cerro Torre: Sand Blasted and Wind Tossed

2007-01-20T14:57:00.000-04:00

Ahhh the leasons to be learned.... Number 1, We are not in Canada, we are not in Canada. This is not Canadian camping.

We headed out early the first day of our trek, hoping to beat the crowds and also as we have heard the peaks are clearer in the early morning. This was true in part, we did beat the crowds, or at least for the first part of the trek, we just met them all as they were just leaving from the campground at 11am. The first day`s total of hiking was just under 10km so we arrived at the campground early and were delighted to find a camping spot with a semi view. What luck!

Lesson 2: View is not always a good thing.

The day progressed and the clouds moved in... You see in the southern Patagonias, they have this thing called wind. Not like wind back in Ontario or the Yukon, but wind like the kind of wind where you batton down the hatches, head indoors and cancel all plans for being outside, and as Chris might testify, it is enough to knock a man off his feet. It is that kind of ominous wind that sounds like 10 000 butane gas stoves fired up to maximum while on the back of a giant locomotive flying through the trees, so loud you actually feel like it should have a visual presence. The wind comes out of the west and generally is the least in the morning and the worst in late afternoon and evening. Shelter is key, and the more the better, even though it will still find you. So our campsite with the semi view turned into the wall of the storm. As the night went on winds battered our little tent and it put up quite a good fight, although it couldn´t stop the sand being driven in all directions, it was a little piece of Bolivia all over again.

You see the southern Patagonias, and especially where we are in Glacier National Park, there is a huge chunk of ice called the Hielo Sur. Can´t remember how big it actually is (maybe Chris will fill in the info from the book here), but it is the biggest ice concentration outside of the polar ice caps. Wind comes from the ocean, whips over the icefiels and smacks itself into the peaks and ranges in the park. The mountains actually create their own clouds, as the wind blows against the mountain faces which are really cold, thus causing the air to cool and moisture to condense creating clouds which seem to never leave the peaks of some of the summits. Some of the clouds can be in very interesting shapes and wind wipped designs and it can be quite beautiful.

So Cerro Torre clouded in, and we headed on to Fitz Roy, which also clouded in. We got up before sunrise to hike up to a mirador for a sunrise lookout (The sunrises here are very vibrant and are suposed to light the mountains on fire... all we saw were lots of pink clouds hiding the peaks). We hiked on enjoying busy trails, but with quite moments and wonderful glaciers. Mountaineering parties can be seen mingling on the trails with hikers and it is fun to hear them talking in their mega North Face tents about the days accomplishments shuttling provisions for their climbs.

Our last day, it cleared up so we hiked up again to Fitz Roy for the view and spent our rest day hiking back into Cerro Torre. Needless to say, we are pooped and feeling flat footed. Early mornings and long days are starting to get to us but we are now in El Calafate and plan to join the tourist hords on a few shuttled day trips to a few of the massive and active glaciers sprouting from the Hielo Sur.

Words can´t really describe the Cerro Torre and Fitz Roy mountains, but their jagged and abrubt rock faces, surrounded by glaciers and made all the more mystical by the ominous winds and clouds made for a definite highlight of our travels so far.

Photos to come...(Marco we didn`t tackle Cerro Torre, but have pictures to make you jealous)

Coyhaique-El Chalten: From Low Key to Busy Season

2007-01-20T14:46:00.000-04:00

We spent a lazy day which turned not-so-lazy as we ran around Coyhaique running errands, such as weather proofing for rain jackets and boots, a new knee brace and so on and so forth. But the weather was nice and Coyhaique is set pleasantly amidst mountains and rolling hills, so everywhere you look there is a scenic view of snow covered mountains or green hills. The wind really picked up, as we hear it can in the southern Patagonias and we battled against it in the streets.

There were no buses out that day, which is the reason we were somewhat relaxing. We managed to get a micro to the town of Puerto Ibanez (about 30 min from where our trek ended, but we had to come back to Coyhaique because we had left baggage in storage) and from there we caught a ferry to the border town of Chile Chico. The ferry ride was only a few hours, and although it was windy, provided another view of the trek we had just completed and more of the surrounding mountains.

We quickly hopped an awaiting micro across the border to Los Antiguos in Argentina and from there found out there was another bus leaving for El Chalten in 45 minutes. We ran around buying groceries, and Chris calling home and hopped onto our 23 hour bus ride from Los Antiguos-Rio Gallegos-El Calafate-El Chalten.

El Chalten is a small boom town with wind whipped dirt roads and lots of touristy restaurants springing up in its sprawling and spread out streets. Horses still graze downtown and uncontrolled growth has allowed a lot of empty lots and hap hazard building styles. None the less the residents are really friendly and are basking in the tourism industry.

The main attraction (and with due reason) is Mnt Fitz Roy and its surrounding satellites. Fitz Roy is a granite spire which was originally covered in softer rock which has erroded over time and now has left several pointy spires pearcing the sky and rising from shards of icy glaciers and mountains below. As if these sharp mollars aren´t enough, behind Fitz Roy is Cerro Torre, a huge spiky digit of red and grey rock reaching out of massive glaciers. It was originally thought to be unclimbable and was first climbed back in the late 50´s although that asscent was questionable. The whole area now attracts world class mountaineering parties and also offers numerous trekking oppurtunities.

We are planning a 4 day, 3 night trek around these mountains. No hitch hiking involved, the trail head was 300m from the campground we stayed at.

Trekking Around Cerro Castillo: By Thumb and By Foot

2007-01-12T16:28:00.000-04:00

Can you believe that there were some difficulties with transportation? Isn´t it amazing that this entry is going to begin talking about a bus station?

Well, surprise! We went to the bus station first thing in the morning, almost an hour before the bus left, and we surprised to be told that there were no seats available for us on the only bus going to the town where our trek started. After all, we are in S America, where they just pile more and more people into the buses, and crowd the aisles with people standing. We were told to come back 5 minutes before the bus left and maybe someone might not show up.

Well, to our disappointment, that did not happen. And, being deadset on doing this trek on our time schedule, we went out to find another bus. At the tourist office, we were told that there were micros that left some time, somewhere on some road. After some discussion with local taxi drivers, we found the micros. But to out disbelief, they all (3 or 4 of them) didn´t leave until 5pm, it was 9:30am!!

So, we tried a taxi driver. His quote: $25 000 Chilean pessos ($50 USD)!!!

Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures. Up the highway we walked, straight out to the edge of town, and out came our thumbs. That´s right baby, hitchhiking!! (Guess who wrote and who edited this blog) We figured if it didn´t pan out, we could take the 5pm micro and camp at the head of the trail that night.

Low and behold, we were picked up by the 5th vehicle that passed. Unfortunately, she didn´t take us all the way, and dropped us off at a highway junction half way to the trek. We thought we were in for a wait because traffic at this junction was sparse....But, the 5th vehicle by picked us up and took us the remainder of the way.

Our trek was around the Cerro Castillo mountain range. It was a four day three night trek. It was great. The weather wasn´t perfect, but we were happy with what we got. And, when it cleared up the views of the surrounding mountains were the perfect backdrop of spiky lizard tail mountains chocked in glaciers and blasted by icy fresh wind.

The route had improved a lot since our trekking book had been published, but we still had plenty to contend with. We had to do some route finding, river fording (upper thigh at one point), crossing mountain passes, desending scree filled creek beds, and nights chilled by the wind whipping off the glaciers. Not to mention night time fires which devored Chris´insole, burned a hole in Justine´pants and as if that wasn´t enough, we decided to have anothe fire and Chris riped a huge gash into his pants gathering wood.

If the sight of the face of hanging glaciers crashing down into high mountain lakes weren´t prize enough, we were blessed with having the trek entirely to ourselves until all but the last hours of the third day! Absolutely stunning glaciers, amazing views and steep mountain turrets, an amazingly scenic hike.

We arrived back in Villa Cerro Castillo in time to meet two buses that were coming through on their way back to Coyhaquia. But, it must be busy season, because they would not sell us a seat, saying they were full. But, we had our trusty thumbs, and the mountain gods must have been looking down on us, because after an hour on the road and only 5 or 6 cars going by, we managed to get another ride in the bed of a truck, all the way back to town.

We are off to Chile Chico tomorrow, and hopefully Argentina the next day after pre-booking our tickets on a bus that will pick us up at our hostal. Cross your fingers (or twiddle your thumbs) for us!

One last thing; in light of Davida´s recent engagement, Justine would like announce her candidatcy in the running for "baby" of the family!

Carretera Austral: The Long And Winding Road

2007-01-07T15:22:00.000-04:00

So we bumped our way through 13 plus hours of gravel road, waterfalls, glaciers, tourquoise lakes, jagged mountains and coastal rainforests. The Carretera Austral´s construction was started under Pinochet and is a highway that connects southern Chile with the populous north. It is accessed in the north only via ferry, and it dead ends in the south of Chile, but there are several connecting roads into Argentina along the way.

We opted to break the journey with one night at the end of an oceanic fijord in the town of Puerto Puyuhuapi. We camped out under blue skies near the ocean and enjoyed some wine and local baking. We were taking public transport, not tour buses, so stops were minimal and there is only one bus per day, so we had to take care not to miss it. The road is less travelled on the Chilean side than the Argentina version which is Route 40. We were originally thinking of taking the Route 40 because Argentina is slightly cheaper to travel in, but as a result of it being more economical and accessible it is frequented a lot more. That combined with the fact that we are told that Rt 40 is more Andean steppe, while the Carretera Austral is right in the thick of fijords, rainforest and mountains on either side. That being said we are trying to head to El Chalten in Argentina and we might have to take Rt. 40 to get down there.

Life in the small towns here is nice and relaxed and the locals are all keen to say hello and to welcome you to their neck of the woods (with their slang filled spanish that makes it really hard to understand). We have been blessed with sunny skies and virtually no more than a few wispy clouds in the last two days, so we have been soaking in the views from the bus windows.

Today we are resting in Coyhaique wandering the deserted Sunday streets (it is always fun to see what will and will not be open on a Sunday). We also went to check out a local camping option (because they range in price and quality, from someone´s backyard to nice camping complete with hot showers and refugios) and on the way we got molested by a stray Bouvier (dog).

Tomorrow, transport permitting, we will try to catch a bus two hours south to a trail head for a 4 day trek around Cerro Castillo. Busing is sparse as although it feels like summer, smells like summer and is hot like summer, the people have yet to arrive and the busing reflects that. We should be back in 5-6 days and from there hope to head down into Argentina towards treks in the Fitz Roy range.

Chaiten: Steep Sided Fijords and Beat-Up Old Fords

2007-01-04T16:18:00.000-04:00

From peaceful Chonchi to still peaceful-but-somewhat hectic Castro, we made our micro move. Micro that is, and we mean bus, and by bus, we meaning busting a move! (Since we are being cheesy).

In Castro Chris had his long awaited ¨curanto¨a seafood and meat dish, that was supposed to come in the form of a stew. Stew it was not, and a huge wood platter was placed in front of Chris full of clams, mussels, 2 sausages, chicken wings, smoked beef, half a potatoe, and some sort of mystery seafood meat. Chris persevered and managed to down what he claims was over half the platter, but sources close to him claim it was less. Nevertheless, with the fine view and good eats we embarked on walks around the city, to see the houses built on stilts into the water called ¨palafitos¨and to otherwise enjoy the sun which we really hadn´t seen much of since we set foot on the islands.

Yesterday we decided to augment our busing blues with another ferry and we waited patiently for our ferry to arrive and leave at 4pm. It took them an hour to figure out how to load about 15 vehicles and we watched from the sunny deck above. We opted not to sit in our predesignated seats that were riped out of some old bus, and to enjoy the top of the boat as we cruised past the idlic pasture lands of the outerlying islands. Soon the fijords and mountains of the mainland were in view, along with yet another storm on the horizon, but we were fearless and remained deck side for about 6 of what turned into a 7 hour ride (was supposed to be 5hours).

We arrived last night in Chaiten around midnight, and wasted no time hoping in a touts car who offered us ¨free¨transport to the hostal; who would have known that it was a 4 seater van which they piled 6 people into, along with all bags and possesions. This resulted in the geribals in the engine calling it quits on a slight incline and a few people hoping out to push the van up after repeated attempts.

The day here dawned once again rainy, but the skies have been lifting and we have enjoyed walking down the deserted streets that are wider than most city´s, and we are really not sure what for. Not much is happening here, there are two agencies in town, busing is sporadic, there really is no supermarket (just corner stores glorified as supermarcados) and of course there are the random horses grazing in peoples yards in the city.

We thought we would enjoy the day here, resting and checking out local options to parks and such in the area. As busing is still in winter mode we would end up getting stuck in most places to the north and have opted to head south tomorrow. Internet is expensive and surprisingly harder to come by than in Bolivia, so we repeat that blogs may not be appearing with the same frequency. The plan is to head tomorrow to Puyuhuapi and spend a couple of days. From there we would like to head to Coyhaique.... but who knows... wide open road and hopefully blue skies and fijords await.

Chonchi: Hillbillies in South America??

2007-01-01T17:27:00.000-04:00

We moved on from Ancud to more southernly destinations on the island of Chiloe. The island is proving to be beautiful, relaxing, and thankfully small (our bus rides have not taken longer than an hour). We did a day trip to visit Isla Quinchao and the town of Achao. Achao is a chariming place with a landmark church and good examples of Chiloe´s vernacular architecture.

That same evening (Dec. 31) we caught an afternoon bus and headed off to Chonchi, our southern most destination on the island. And it was here that we decided to ring in the New Year. We are staying in Esmerelda´s By the Sea, a hostal owned by a Canadian expat. The location is fantastic, and the price reasonable. And, we have a room with an ocean view.

The town is small and quiet, and it has been a nice place to relax. We decided to go all out for New Years, and made ourselves a delectible meal. HOT DOGS. Now, if that is not redneck enough for you, we roasted them over the gas flame on the stove in the common kitchen, and ate them in slices of white bread and washed it down with a litre of beer drank straight from the bottle. Now, that is class!!

The New Year was rung in here with one or two fire crackers going off, and a lot of the ship captains blaring their fog horns, hours after midnight.

Today has been a lazy day, filled with relaxing, reading, and midday strolls through the town. We know that we are on the coast as the day has been divided into torrential downpours followed by blistering sun. All in all, it has been a great way to start 2007.

In the coming days we hope to catch a ferry to the mainland.. but given that there have been reportedly a few ¨acts of god¨with the ferries lately, it is always hard to tell if they will be running on time. We are trying to head to a remote part of Chile, connected by the dirt and partially paved highway called the Carretera Austral. Busing, we hear, can be erradic, so just a heads up that the blogs may also be sparse in the coming weeks, especially as we hit the south and some of our trekking locations.

Happy New Year to all, and on another Happy note, we would like to wish Davida Hobbis and Shawn Wood a very happy engagement. Congratulations!

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

2006-12-29T12:29:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-29T12:18:00.000-04:00

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?

2006-12-25T14:35:00.000-04:00

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??

2006-12-25T14:17:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-22T15:33:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-21T18:32:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-21T18:21:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-15T16:26:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-15T16:20:00.000-04:00

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?

2006-12-10T16:55:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-08T18:55:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-08T18:38:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-08T18:24:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-08T18:18:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-04T20:53:00.000-04:00

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

2006-12-04T19:05:00.001-04:00

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

2006-12-04T19:05:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-29T20:04:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-27T13:05:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-27T12:38:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-27T12:25:00.000-04:00

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..

2006-11-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-12T14:02:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-07T17:14:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-03T18:48:00.000-04:00

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

2006-11-02T17:54:00.000-04:00

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.

Cañon del Colca: Condors, Cacti and Nudists, Oh MY

2006-10-31T18:24:00.000-04:00

Canyon Del Colca is deemed to be the second deepest canyon in the world. It is a close second to another canyon here in Peru, and much deeper than the Grand Canyon in the USA. For this reason, it was on our list of things to do in Peru.

After some research and some uncertainty, as well as discussing the amount of time that would be required, we decided to go with a tour company and a guide instead of tackling this on our own. In hind sight, we are not disappointed with our experience, but it is definetly something that we could have done on our own, and it would have saved us some money.

Our excursion began with a 1am pick-up by our guide and a taxi. We were then off to pick up two other groups and then to the bus terminal. We were loaded onto a local bus, and were off...only to stop and continue to pick up passengers until they were standing and sitting in the aisle. The trip was almost entirely in the dark, and we saw very little, but did manage to get some sleep, which is amazing because we hit some crazy punk potholes. The mother of all potholes was heightened by the fact that we were sitting behind the back wheels, but it included a 125lb girl flying 3-4 feet int he air, smashing her head into both the ceiling luggage rack and window and biting her tongue on the way down.

The sun rose at 5am, and we were already driving the road that runs the rim of the canyon. The light that splashed the mountains and the canyon walls created a spectacular picture. Justine busied herself trying to snap pictures through the crack that she was able to open the window.

We arrived in Cabanaconde at around 6:45am, and smartly went for breakfast. We were on our way by about 8am. We were surprised to find that it was just us and our guide Pepe. The agency had informed us that we would be with another group of two, which was part of the reason we went with an agency, in an attept to get some conversation. It quickly became apparant that Pepe spoke very little English, or at least a little less english than Justine spoke spanish. This was good for Justine as she was able to practice her Spanish, and although Chris was unable to speak too much, Pepe spoke slowly, so he was able to pick up much of the discussion without translation.

The first day would be a decent into the Canyon, crossing the Rio del Colca, and then on to Llawar, a small place with tourist bungalos and thermal baths. The trail soon gave us spectacular views of the canyon, and where our trek would be taking us.

The hike to Llawar would take seven hours, and the sun soon began to beat down on us. The trail was well worn and easy to traverse as we went deeper and deeper into the canyon. By about mid-day we reached the bottom and the river. There are numerous gysers and vents in the canyon, and we were lucky enough to be able to see some today. Pepe told us that at times, the one gyser spurts 10m in the air. Unfortunately, we did not get to see this... only a bit of bubbling, but the heat of the geysers combined with the heat of the canyon was impressive.

Hot, dry and dusty can be described as the rest of the afternoon. The canyon gets especially hot not just because of the beating sun but because there are numerous underground rivers and water systems that are heated by nearby volcanoes and volcanic activity. We arrived early enough in the afternoon to enjoy a brief nap in our little cabana and to take two dips in the natural hot springs which sit right beside a loud river.

Very peaceful and tranquile. It was only us and two other groups of two. But whats a remote hike into one of the worlds deepest canyons without a little spice. We went to join the group after our nap for our second dip in the hot springs and were met by two nudists. There is a main pool and a smaller, hotter pool big enough for two people. Those two people obviously felt that bathing suits might hamper the natural healing properties of the water because they were enjoying it o´ natural. They were fun though, both world travellers and interesting to talk to.

So did we mention that Pepe, when he is not guiding, is a cook. What luck. We were told at the agency that there would be no meat on this trip. But Pepe worked wonders with chicken, and we even had caramel pancakes for breakfast. On the last day we had brought in tuna inadvertently and he whipped up a tun- potatoe-mint salad to die for. This is the kind of hiking and camping we need to introduce back in Canada. Hiking in the day, hot springs at night, and some good eats with few ingredients.

The next morning we started around 830am, and man was it a stinker. Hot. We passed through some shade and refreshed ourselves with some fresh picked oranges. Aside from that it was mostly uphill and all in the sun. We saw a few condors over head and a damn lot of cacti. We arrived in the Oasis of Sanguille early in the afternoon, and realised that this was where the quick easy route into the canyon led because there were gringos aplenty. There was a nice cool pool and we spent the day relaxing and enjoying the spectacular cliffs around us.

We were up at 3am on the final day to hike the 3 hours back up the canyon mostly in the dark. We weren´t just doing this for fun, but because in order to get to Cruz del Condor (Cross of the Condor) and to have the best chances of seeing condors, you need to get there by 9am. We were pretty much the last group to leave, but gradually passed the others and made it to the top to see the sunrise.

We took the public bus to Cruz del Condor and on the way passed another view point with condors flying by it. ---There is a story here. Our guide was pretty personable and we got along with him pretty well. We didn´t end up getting charged the park fee of 10 USD ea on the way in to the park, so he said if we went to Cruz del Condor we would for sure get charged. He offered to take us to another lookout, so when we passed the other lookout and saw condors, we were thinking that for sure luck wouldn´t hold out with Cruz del Condor.

Anyway he ended up working his magic (again) and getting us an extra ticket, combined with the fact that "Chris accidentally went into the hot springs for a few hours with his tix in his pocket" and boom we were in with the hords, and I mean hords and hords of people. Clambering all over the lookout point. They say the best time is between 830 and 930 and so by 925 we were thinking we were SOL. Then a few of the mighty birds flew by near the cliff and we all oohed and awwed. Condors are big birds, not beautiful, but big.

So we were suposed to meet Pepe by the ladies selling goods and we wandered over there. Just in time to look back a few meters at the crowd and see a giant condor swoop only a few metres above everyones head. It was a mixed experience because we were in the most perfect viewpoint to see all of this happening, including the fact that it was so low we could see on top of it and the white feathers on part of its back and the detail of its head.... but we were all so awestruck we didn´t get our cameras out on time.

Anyway Pepe again worked his magic and found a friend who had three extra spaces in a private tour bus so we were shuttled back to Arequipa a couple of hours earlier, including pee stops, sight seeing and explanations.

The ride back to Arequipa was beautiful as it crossed over high Andean altiplano (we are talking only rocks and a scrubby grass called Puma) reaching a high point of 4800m. Llamas, alapacas and the wild and rare Vicuñas roamed in the fields and the mighty El Misti loomed in the background.

We arrived in time to run around town looking for shampoo.

Cuy Pictures

2006-10-31T17:27:00.000-04:00

Just a quick little blog to give some visual representation to our last entry.

Arequipa: How CUY´d you eat me??

2006-10-27T18:25:00.000-04:00

Another night bus, another relatively sleepless night, and another city. We are now in Arequipa! We left Cusco to spend some time exploring the other two places in Southern Peru that we want to see, before we have to return to Cusco to hike the Inca Trail on the 8 of November.

The bus ride here crossed high Andean altiplano which consisted of short scruffy grass up high and a little lower down cacti. The land is dry and the mountains, although big, are not as tight as Cusco and they lie in the distance, their very peaks covered in a light dusting of snow.

Arequipa is another city that sits in the shadow of Volcanoes. The closest is El Misti, and it presideds majestically in the background. The city is modern with some colonial architecture close to the Plaza de Armas. Numerous buildings in the city are striking as they are constructed of volcanic rock that gleems white in the bright sun. The area sees 300 rain free days a year.

One of our main purposes in coming here is to go to Canyon del Coca, the second deepest canyon in the world. We have booked a 3 day, 2 night trip into the canyon that will also let us stop at Cruz del Condor where we will hopefully be able to see some Andean Condors as we overlook the canyon. Our trip begins at 1am tonight!!

Last night was noteworthy, in that we decided to splurge on dinner and treat ourselves to some traditional Peruvian dishes. The restaurant we went to was recommended in LP and prides itself on the traditional cuisine that it specializes in. In fact, there were three pages in their menu. Chris chose "Cuy" (pronounced: coo-ee), which was said to be stone roasted and served with french fries (not sure how traditional these are). For those of you that do not know, Cuy is definetly a traditional dish, and is considered a delicacy. Cuy is guinea pig. Justine opted to be very adventurous and got the stuffed hot pepper (as she reminised about her childhood pets).

We could go into great detail about the stuffed pepper, but we are sure some of you would prefer to hear about the guinea pig. When it arrived, it was obvious we did NOT get ripped off. It WAS a guinea pig. It was splayed out in its fullness on the plate; head, teeth, paws and claws. The Cuy was not stone roasted as reported, but had been fried in different oils at varying temperatures (we had seen on a movie back in Canada, this is a "traditional" method of preperation).

After a couple of deep breaths, and some photos, Chris dug in. Being able to get his mind out of the situation was key. Having done this, he was surprised to find out that the Cuy is very similar to chicken and rabbit. It has more flavor than chicken, but has a texture and taste somewhere between rabbit and chicken. The meal was much more bone than meat, but was good none the less. It should also be noted for posterity that Justine tried some too, and also gladly shared her pepper when someone had eaten enough of their meal.

Cusco: Gringo Belly Button Ring

2006-10-24T19:19:00.000-04:00

Ahh Cusco....The Navel of Earth.

We knew we were headed towards Gringoland gold when we got to the bus station in Nazca to find a group of gringos playing guitar and drinking Iranian coffee. The bus ride was raucus until we hit the 90 degree corners and the toilet filled to about one inch of overflowing (combine this with slamming corners and you know what you get) and then people mostly just sat and tried to sleep.

Cusco is beautiful. As jaded as some of us can be, it is a wonderfully rich city with rambling cobblestone streets of redish stone and sparkling whitewashed stucco buildings. Streets are tight and one way and stuffed full of, yes, souvenir shops. It seems everywhere you turn there are more gringos than locals here. Llamas and locals flock to the streets hawking photos. You can´t even look one way without seeing alpaca this or llama knitted hat. Tours, tours galor. And yet no tours for Machu Pichu.

It is as we had been told, backlogged. More gringos than trail space. They allow 50 people a day onto the Inka Trail, and currently there are no openings until Nov.08. We had heard rumour it was this way, but two things were true, we were too lazy and unaware of our plans to even know when to book ahead, and we were too cheap. Trails range in price here, and so coming here has worked out because we managed to get one more in our budget for Nov.8.

Our plan is to head to Arequipa tomorrow and spend some time muking around Canyon del Colca and the area. We will head to Puno on Lake Titicacca and then back to Cusco. From there we will head it straight to La Paz.

We spent the day wandering the streets and taking in the market here. The market was somewhat different from the other markets we have visited, as it is a daily affair. An awesome market, you can get almost anything your heart desires, from cow fetises (different sizes), sheep heads (eye balls, teeth, hair and all), testicles, flowers, cheese (you can sample), giant bread the size of a steering wheel (breakfast tomorrow), shampoo, alapaca hats (of course), TP and on. Markets like these make you wish you had a kitchen, whatever spice, whatever fruit or veggie you want you can find it.. makes the mouth water.

Cusco has a plethora of churches and ruins, to explore and we will explore them when we return. Many of the buildings here are built on the foundations of Incan ruins and you can still see some wonderful Incan stone work acting as foundations for the Spanish buildings. Cusco, orginally an Incan town was discovered by the Spanish in the 1500´s. It was quickly looted and eyes were turned towards more important cities of Lima and the coast. Cusco was a small town until the rediscovery of Machu Picchu in 1911 and now there is no doubt about it, the tourists rule the roust.

Nazca: Lines Uncensored

2006-10-24T18:54:00.000-04:00

Well, we are hardly the ones to give a lecture regarding the lines and the theories of their existence.... But using what skills we obtained at uni and college to listen and absorb lectures........This is what we sort of know.

There are many theories surrounding the lines and they range from the practical to the bizarre. Researchers have found some connection between the straight lines and trapezoids and some underground water sources, although this account for only roughly 30% of the lines. More than likely they are to do with water as the Nazca plan is so arid and water must definitely been a sacred item.

Many of the lines radiate out of ray centres and stretch off into the distance. Often times these lines point to mountains beyond, but not always. For sure the ancient Nazcan´s recognized that the Andes were the source of water to the desert. It is thought that these lines could have been used as part of rituals where the Nazcans could have walked the lines invoking their gods to bring rain and water. In fact each of the lines and figures are made from one continuous line, so the monkey or the whale for instance could have been walked as part of a ritual.

Also as a note, all of the lines could only have been seen from above. Ancient Nazcan mythology has its god (or one of its gods) as a Puma which is shedding tears, tears of water for the Nazcan´s. The creatures predicted such as the whale and the monkey are animals not found in the Nazca pampa and were probably seen as important figures.

That being said, there is also a relation of the lines with the stars above. One of the most remarkable things about the Nazca desert (although less so in the lights of modern day) is the shear amount of stars in the sky. Some of the designs, such as the monkey have been overlayed upon the stars in the sky and their is some relation. But people argue that you could pretty much overlay anything upon the sky and come up with commonalities.

Also, it has been noted that some of the lines align with the sun on summer and winter solstice, so perhaps they were part of a giant celestial, solar calendar? Or to do with their gods.... No one really knows as the Nazcan´s didn´t have a written language.

The lines were created by removing the top layer of darkened sunburned rocks from the surface of the desert and creating a small dug out portion to the lighter coloured sand, rocks below. They were created and used over hundreds of years.

One other theory to note is that they might have been used as giant landing strips for martians. Although, it is worth noting that some of these lines traverse up the desert floor and onto mountains....

Sill interested... ?

http://www.crystalinks.com/nasca.html

http://skepdic.com/nazca.html

As a personal note, what I found interesting was the fact that everything leaves its mark in this barren place. For this reason, it is forbidden to even walk out on the plane or on the lines. The Nazca plane receives hardly any water every year, yet what little water it does recieves carves out beautiful sinuous lines into the harden stone. Hundreds of years of water trickling through leaves braided patterns, and for a second you might be convinced it recieves more water than they tell you. It really is beautiful that after thousands of years the marks of that which has passed through whether human or not can still be seen...

Nazca: More than Connecting the Dots

2006-10-23T19:40:00.000-04:00

We headed off to Nazca with the sole purpose of seeing the infamous lines. The Nazca plane is one of the driest areas in the world (recieving 20 min of rain a year). This huge plateau is the location of one of the world´s most amazing sights. The lines form a network of over 800lines, 300 figures, and some 70 animal and plant images.

The designs include a curvaceous 90m long monkey, a condor with a 130m wingspan, a hummingbird, a spider and a figure called the astronaut.

We arrived too late in the day to be able to take the flight over the lines that day, so we booked for the following day. That evening we visited the Maria Reiche Planetarium, for a lecture and presentation on the lines, some possible exlainations, and also found out about Maria Reiche.

The lines weren´t re-discovered until the 1930`s when commercial flights began going over the area. At that time there was a bit of interest in them, but not a lot. A German mathematician, Maria Reiche, ended up dedicating her life to trying to discover the meaning of and the preservation of the lines.

The next morning, we headed off to the airport for our trip over the lines. We spent about an hour at the airport, watching a video on the lines (more theory), and waiting for our turn to fly over. Our plane was a Cesna, with 6 seats including the piolet. The flight lasts for 35 minutes and flies over 12 of the most easily recongnizable figures. It is recommended you do not eat prior to the trip, and we also took gravol. The plane banks from left to right to allow passengers on both sides to see the lines.

After the flight, we went for breakfast and booked an afternoon tour of Cemetery of Chauchilla, before we took a night bus out. The cemetery dates from Pre-Inca to Inca times. There are three distinct cultures that used the area. Due to the extreme aridness of the area, the bodies have been extremely well preserved. The people were mummified, but as they were buried with their belongings for the afterlife, there have been years of grave robbery there. 17 specific sights still remain.

We caught the bus at 8pm to Cuzco (14 hours) and arrived this morning. Our plan was to be doing the Inca Trail to Machu Pichu, but unfortunatly, it is totally booked for the month of October. It looks like we will be booking for Nov. 7, and heading off to Araquipa, then returning to go into Machu Pichu.

Ica, Huacachina: Gringoland now playing everywhere

2006-10-20T17:45:00.001-04:00

We wondered where all the gringos were when we were in North Peru, and again when we were in Ecuador, now we know.. they are all in Southern Peru.

Our bus from Lima to Ica had more gringos than locals. (Could have just been a Cruz del Sur thing because it is more pricey). But nonetheless, the movies now are all of a sudden in english with subtitles. Boom, people speak english, or about as much english as we speak spanish.

We offloaded in Ica and made for Huacachina, a small oasis a couple of km into the desert. Boom, we walk into our hotel and there are GRINGOS EVERYWHERE. It is like we walked into the set of some fabulous movie. Our hostal had a central pool with a bar beside it. Gringos are sitting around sipping drinks, swimming, eating, laughing, listening to music and talking about a days hard travel sandboarding and swimming.

Music thumped until late in the night. We were pooped so we pretty much went to bed. We were awaken at about 3am to the bed shaking...and no, not like that. We were hit by a minor earthquake that lasted for about 40 seconds.

The next morning we too sunned ourselves by the pool. Then to add to the movie flavour, we decided to go dune buggy touring and sandboarding. Within minutes we were Mission Impossible stars flying around dunes, being driven full speed up dunes to hit the top and go hurtling, all wheels in the air down cliff sides. It was like some kind of motion simulator of a movie at Canada´s Wonderland, except this was real. And the more the ladies screamed the crazier our driver got (Trotter, we know you can relate). It was wild.

Follow that up by some sandboarding down progressively steeper dunes. The boards are nothing more than planks of wood with lamination and some greese. They strap them on with velcro and away you go. Pretty fun and a lot less painful than snow, surprisingly. Sand gets everywhere, and we mean everywhere.

At night we decided to be somewhat social and join the rat race at the bar. As it turned out it must have been a few groups converging on the hostal by chance the night before. But regardless there were many people eager to swap stories about great BLT´s or fish and chips they found at gringo restaurants in Cusco or wherever.

Reverse Culture Shock. We could say we didn´t feel like we had that much culture shock when we first got here in Casma and headed north (although I think everyone goes through it in some form or another). But it was definitely Culture Shock having to be surrounded by english voices. Definitely a completely different circuit.

Welcome to the Gringo Trail.

We moved today to Ica which is definitely less gringo populated. It is busy and a little less safe feeling (no gringos but us around, they are all in Huacachina). We spent the day touring a few pisco-wine vineyards, enjoying a few free tastings and taking in the hot dry surroundings.

Tomorrow we want to get out of here ASAP. Now in the south a lot of locals know a bit more english and coupled with more gringos means it feels sketchier because people want to take advantage as well. We will head to Nazca tomorrow.

Piura, Lima: What did you just eat?

2006-10-20T17:45:00.000-04:00

Journey survived, barely.

The overnight ride on Cruz del Sur was by far cushier. Food was served and even movies. Bingo was played. Yes bingo.... And guess who won... Chris.

Well we should clarify, first he had a false bingo.. missed the last number on his card, 74. But then they called it two numbers later. He won a trip from Lima back to Piura.... Yeah.. thanks, but no thanks.

Other than that we had another six or so hour layover in Lima.. wohoo..

We dined upon cow tongue potatoes and rice, and another yummy soup with hearty meats, including what could only be described as a sack of some sort, Justine thinks it was a ball sack... Luckily we will never know because we don´t know how to ask that in Spanish, and don´t really want to.

Ecuador to Peru: Crossing the Border and No Virgin Insight

2006-10-17T13:27:00.000-04:00

Our plan was to leave Cuenca on Monday morning, head to Loja (a hub near the border) spend the night there, catch a bus on Tuesday to Piura(in Peru) and from there a night bus to Lima and then onto Ica in the south. Our plan would have us in Ica on Wednesday or Thursday. Well, Monday morning Justine woke up with a bit of a stomach problem...we figure a small case of food poisioning. Chris with his cast iron stomach worked on his journal and let Justine have a few more hours of sleep. This worked out in our favor as the bus that we were told left at 9am did not exist.

Arriving in Loja at around 4pm Justine soon discovered that there were only two buses a day that crossed the border (not what the LP says), and they were at 10:30pm and 11 pm. So after some discussion the decision to take the 10:30 bus was made. This meant no sleep or relaxation, and an EARLY morning border crossing. We whiled away the hours waiting for the 1030pm bus getting something to eat and then people watching and listening to Douglas Adams´"Life the Universe and Everything" on the Ipod.

10:30 arrived and we boarded the bus. The seats reclined slightly, and we were none to eager for the bus ride as it was scheduled to arrived in Piura at 7am. With a border crossing in about 5 hours, we quickly tried to get comfortable and get some sleep.

Cheesy Interlude:
AT this point, Chris´memory flashed to a CNN World presentation that we had watched earlier this week. It was a segment where travellers send in their questions and a reporter researches the information. The question was looking for which airline had the most leg room for passengers. It was reported that they would only look at coach class, as all first class had ample leg room. The results were that Virgin Airlines has the best leg room with 72cm. GAWD do we wish we had that!!

We were awakened at 2:30 in the morning to go through the proceedures of crossing the border. The process was relatively quick at that time of night, and we were back in the bus and on the road by just after 3am. With fewer passengers onboard, we chose to try sitting in different seats and sprawl across two seats each. This lasted until about 5am, when we began to stop for numerous locals on the side of the road heading off to work and kids heading off to school. Of course we spent the whole night rocked and lulled to sleep to the blaring tunes of yet another Spanish Rock-pop CD.

Now in Piura, we are killing time until our bus leaves at 6:15pm. The bus trip to Lima is 12 to 16 hours, but luckily for us, this is on a "plush" bus with Cruz Del Sur (with semi-cama seats, and dinner and breakfast supplied). Still, we are not really looking forward to more time on the bus. Especially considering that our plan is to immediatly turn around and get on a bus in Lima to Ica, another 4 hours!!.... Hopefully, hopefully only 52 hours of travelling in total and we will get there... hopefully.

Ecuador: Things to Remember

2006-10-15T17:14:00.000-04:00

Helados: homemade ice cream, frozen in a cup and with a stick.. soo good, so refreshing, and Ecuadorians love them.

Brightly coloured shawls, dresses and clothing.

Hats: pork pie or pananma, could Justine pull one off in Canada?

Voicanoes: brooding silently and not so silently... a different way of life.

Markets: Fabric colours, yarn, people, smells, food, bag of oranges for 50cents..

Bus stations: so easy to get on and off.

Bus Food Vendors: Why leave the bus when vendors will board the bus, sell you what you need (chicken on a stick, icecream, chips, gum, water, beans in a bag etc) and hop off at the next stop, or even when the bus isn´t stopped.

Pigs: Always squeeling, always ornery, so funny and so fat.

Menu del Dia: aka Almuerzos... when you can find it, always a different soup, always filling, sometimes making you sick... the chance you have to take for some good eats

Panderias: The bread always smells and looks to good.. and never really is.

Touts: Always in your face, not always telling the truth about their bus... but if you aren´t going with them, they will tell you correctly who can take you there...

The kids: as babies, we have seen hardly any cry. They entertain themselves with next to nothing. Those that are in school wear uniforms, and are out by 1:30pm. Those that can´t afford to go to school work...and work hard whether in the fields, at the markets, or selling whatever they can.

The Mighty American Dollar: can you ever get away from it. It makes a developing country seem quite expensive.

Cell phones: They are everywhere...you see a person in what looks like traditional dress and suddenly their pockets begin a Bethoven melody.

Phone Cabanas: if you can´t afford the cell phone, there are phone stores on every block. Kind of like Starbucks in Canada.

Music: nothing like flying down the road in your bus with pop Ecuadorian music blarring!

Cuenca: Helados a plenty

2006-10-15T16:49:00.000-04:00

After Riobamba, we hopped a five hour bus through the highlands to Cuenca. What a bus ride. Another rainy day (this is really the only time other than in Huaraz that it has rained at all so far) with the bus snaking through high mountain tops, shrouded in mist and cloud with occasional sunny breaks. Cliffs turned to farmland and lush valleys as we left the high snowcapped Andes behind...

Cuenca is both modern and colonial. Paved roads only reached this area in the 60´s so there is still a lot of traditional dress and people and the downtown core is a beautiful mix of colonial flat topped buildings and red tiled houses. The downtown runs along a river which is well cared for, and is still used to wash and dry clothes. Brightly coloured dresses lie on the banks drying in the sun. Beautiful bridges cross over the river which is free of garbage, although is still pretty dirty (not too common in SA). Streets are straight but filled with beautiful colonial buildings and churches, it is a real treat for the eyes.

Not too much else to say. Today is election day. We opted not to go to Sigsig (nearby town that makes Panama Hats) as the owner of our hostal tells us that things will shut down today as most people will be watching the elections.

Things have been really heating up in that category lately. Parades galore fill the streets, and these aren´t really parades... just anyone with a working vehicle, some tape and whatever political propaganda they can find adherred to their vehicle. Whole buses and big rig trucks go by with a few posters and no one but the driver. Loud speakers seem to be the draw and the louder the speaker the better, even if it isn´t political tunes, just music is great.

As we said there are a lot of political parties down here with a lot of voting numbers. Our spanish, unfortunately, isn´t great enough to really understand the situation, but from what we can understand from the hostal owner it is between two parties, number 35 and we think 12-29. Not sure if that is just from advanced poles or surveys. We also wonder how everyone must vote as there are a lot of remote houses far from towns with obvious politcial feelings, so perhaps poles have been open longer. We haven´t noticed polls before, but we saw a few today and turnout seems to be good. There is a police presence, but things are calm. People aren´t afraid to tell you who they are voting for, we had lunch at a market stall and the lady was busy showing us her ID and political party. Should be interesting, apparently we should know by around 9pm tonight.

Tomorrow we are taking a bus to Loja (about six hours south of here). From there we are going to get a bus to Piuria, Peru, and then on to Lima and Ica, Peru. Should be about a day and a half process or more.. but we are realising there is a lot to do in Peru still and even more in Chile and Argentina.... so we must bid Ecuador farewell.

Riobamba: The Sultan of the Andes and the Devils Nose

2006-10-15T15:57:00.000-04:00

Through darkening skies and the ever-present ash cloud of the Volcano Tinguahura, we left Baños on the two hour or so bus ride to Riobamba.

Riobamba is very much a city, it has a some interesting churches and architecture but most people pass through its way soley for the train ride: Nariz del Diablo (Devil´s Nose) which starts in Riobamba and ends in Sibambe. Thinking we would hotel shop we got let off at the train station and bought our tickets for the next day. We were soon stopped by one of the hotel owners in our book (the one that was far away and we weren´t going to go to) offering us a ride to his hostal and back to the train the next morning. We ended up accepting, and it was great. The nicest, well kept, hostal rooms we have been in yet (all newly renovated) with a kitchen, tv and no one else staying there.

A wet evening was passed scrambling around town as one thing after another went wrong with our camera card. For some reason we have duplicat images on a full card, not sure how that works, but we ended up having to buy another one. The images are still on the card, it is just going to be interesting trying to get them off. We spent a couple of hours in the upstairs of a camera shop with the owner trying to get the images off the camera and burned. We got most of them, but gave up a while after he was already closed. I guess as a highlight, he sold us a 1GB camera card, two cd´s, his time and a card reader for 50$ (which was all we had in our pocket). We then spent the next hour trying to find an ATM that would accept our bank card b-c we had no money left... arg.

The next morning our hostal owner drove ous to the train station at six am... and we soon found out why.... Gone are the days when this train ride must have been really something. The train, dubbed the Narix del Diablo, because of the switchbacked track that it takes down a mountain face of the same name was also thought to be the most difficult train in the world to build. It initially starts in Riobamba and passes through farmland and soon into dry mountain valleys and crevasses. It stops in small towns along the way and its final stop is in Alausi before it begins its descent down the near vertical face of the Nariz Del Diablo. In its day it must have been something, as it serviced all the way to Cuenca, and was pretty much the only transportation method for local farmers and people. It served as a transport train of goods and such, but along with that people ended up needing lifts too. The roof riding of the train cars was permitted and is encouraged today.

The train no longer really seems to have a purpose as it was 100% gringos riding the roofs and the roof was packed full by the time we stopped in Alausi. At Riobamba you can rent cushions for your butt and back as the tin roof and metal railings can be quite tough after 7 hours. Locals climb to the top and hawk hats, gloves, coffee, banana chips etc. As far as we could tell there is no purpose to the train as we stopped a few times to unload a few railway ties, and other than that the only cargo was gringo backpacks. Nevertheless, it is an unreal experience with the wind blowing through your hair sitting atop the train as it screeches and chugs through the country side. You pass many locals farming, washing clothes, or coming out in hopes of getting a candy tossed down.

The seperation between the haves and the have nots is really apparent as you sit high above the locals, and watch little kids running back and forth fighting over candy. It is hard to tell whether the locals really enjoy this train, it must be a quite a sight, passing through three times a week with roofs packed full of gringos snaping photos... but nearly all waved and smiled, so you have to think that they must enjoy it.

The scenery is beautiful, and as it was raining and overcast, we can only imagine what it must have looked like if Chimborazo (Ecuador´s highest peak and volcanoe) and the other mountains were in view. Regardless the switchbacked descent down the Nariz del Diablo was amazing to take in, especially from the roof. We could only wish that they would extend the route.

Baños: Where there´s smoke...

2006-10-11T19:42:00.000-04:00

We decided that it was time to move on from Latacunga and spend a bit of time pampering ourselves...we headed for Baños. .....The idyllic town of Baños was of interest to us because it is surrounded by lush, green mountains offering great hiking, mountain biking, excursions to the jungle, and the of course after a tough night of climbing, cherished hot springs.

After arriving back in Latacunga, we quickly returned our equipment to the tour operator, picked up our backpacks, reshuffled some items and headed to the bus station. From Latacunga, there is no direct bus to Baños, we first had to head the 33km to Ambato. Upon arrival in Ambato, we picked up our bus to Baños in the fashion we are getting very used to: dropped off on the side of the street, organize our packs, a bus pulls up, the tout yells out the destination, toss our packs on board, scramble in, find a seat and away we go!!

Behind Baños and its tranquil feel sits Volcan Tungurahua, an active volcano that has made some noise already this year. Before we made the trip here we spent some time online researching (the volcano is closely monitored and there is a lot of information including Instituto Geofisico http://www.igepn.edu.ec/), talking to other travellers, locals and getting information from the Lonely Planet website. As we made our approach, we could see the Volcano not far off in the distance, with its ever-present steam cloud brooding above.

The town is very relaxed, and extremely oriented toward the traveller. It seems as if we cannot turn a corner without coming face to face with a hostal. There are numerous tour operators that are all offering package excursions and adventure to anyone who is willing and able. Language schools and just the relaxed atmosphere at 1800m (ie plants, flowers and warm temps) are all draws to the gringo looking for a place to call a base.

After our lack of sleep from the night before, our first night in Baños was quite uneventful. We checked into the Hostal Santa Cruz (http://www.livetravelguides.com/south-america/ecuador/andean-highlands/central-highlands/banos/hospedaje-santa-cruz/), went and had a quick bite to eat as we hadn´t eatten anything since 12am, then went back for a nap. For the evening we had booked a tour to go out on a "bus" to get a view of the volcano at night (you are supposed to be able to see a red glow from the crater), this was a waste of time and money as it was cloudy-smoky and we ended up sitting around a campfire at the lookout almost the entire time.

Today has been restful. We slept in, had breakfast and then soaked in the thermal baths here in the town. The water is naturally supplied, and cooled with water from a local waterfall. The facility is older and concrete, comprising of a number of pools of varying temperatures. Our time in them was very relaxing as we looked out on the gorgeous scenery surrounding us.

From there we wandered the town and went and explored recent lava-mud-rock overflows (by recent I mean months ago) that took out part of the road. Of course, life goes on here in Banos with or without the volcanoe, and locals barely cast an eye up as the occasional dark smoke cloud blots out the sun. Kind of a weird surreal thing coming from Canada where the idea of living underneath a volcanoe and directly in its lava flow is a little off base, but the town is beautiful, and you can see why people want to stay, liquid hot magma or not..

The town is not just famous for its volcanoe or hot springs, another yummy treat is the wood pegs on almost every store front. Here people pull fresh taffy that they make in their shops and they will happily break off a fresh warm chunk for you for 25 cents. mmmm taffy

Our plan is to remain here for the night and then head off to Riobamba and the train ride down the Nariz del Diablo (Devils Nose) tomorrow. The train leaves on Wednesday, Friday and Sunday, so we hope to make the Friday train.

Hope to be in Peru by the end of a weeks time...

Cotopaxi: The Neck of the Moon

2006-10-11T19:21:00.000-04:00

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. ... or something like that..

We met our guide, Julian (pronounced Hulian) at the guiding office and were quickly outfitted in all of our gear from harnesses, to snowpants, ice axe and crampons etc. Within the hour we were on the road in our 1970´s Land Cruiser complete with over 582,000 KM and no clutch, bouncing along a dirt road heading directly for Mnt. Cotopaxi.

It was an unusually clear day with the summit in full view as we got closer and closer and higher and higher. Soon we were on the high altiplano with minimal plant life, except for some wild horses and the occasional fox. The parking lot is actually a couple hundred meteres below the refugio and you have to park and walk the rest of the way up. There were a lot of people visiting for the day as it was the holiday of the Independance of Guayaquil and a lot of people were out touring and such. They are all pushing past you as you gasp and struggle with your pack at 4,800m.

Once at the refugio we soon settled in and had some lunch. We lay down to have a break and you quickly realise your heart is just racing at this altitude, trying to get oxygen from the air into your body. The plan was simple, you spend the afternoon resting and head out on the climb at midnight. Our guide was initially quite a pleasant guy, having climbed Cotopaxi more times than he could remember and a list of other peaks too long to count.

Since the glacier is retreating and it now takes longer to get to the face of it, Julian opted for training that night at the face of it and a rest time in the afternoon. He said there wasn´t too much training to do, as the climb is more of a slog than technical.

Sleeping was hard in the refugio as it is just a bunch of bunk beds and with twenty or so other people there, there was a lot of tossing and turning of people and of course the loud clunk of mountaineering boots going towards the washroom outside. Justine didn´t end up sleeping at all that night before the climb and of course Chris slept like a log ;)

Heading out at midnight was like some kind of surreal dream. High up at the refugio the clouds were well below us and you could see the dark outlines of mountains peaking through them in the distance, occasionally lit by storm clouds and lightning well below. In the distance you could see the lights of Quito about 75km away.

We got to the glacier face pretty quickly, but unfortunately a large army group had camped out in the parking lot and soon added to the amount of people attempting to climb the mountain. Our guide, although telling us to take our time, grew annoyed with the amount of people on the mountain and began to take less worn trails over the glacier in order to pass other groups and to keep up the pace.

There isnt too much to tell after this point. The night was a mix of snow and cloud, crevasses and ice, headlamps and stars. We trudged on for about four hours and hit a second glacier with an incline of about 45 degrees, but with no crevasses. Justine had taken some cold water earlier in the night for a minor altitude headache, and had felt slightly sick thereafter. As we climbed she kept getting sicker, and was pretty soon dry-heavin´ it. Woohoo

What can we say.. we made it to about 5500m (300 from the summit, which doesnt seem like much but it was actually like another 4 hours of climbing) before it became obvious that we could both make it but it sure wouldn´t be a smart idea, what with having to get down and all afterwards.

Getting down from there was, as it turned out, half the fun. The incline was a hell of a lot steeper when you are looking down the mountain and much steeper than anything we have ever been on. From this point, huge crevassed glaciers lay on either side of us, the sun had just started to lighten the sky and as it was early the clouds were very low. We were over a kilometre above the clouds and mountain peaks jutted through them in the distance. Quito still in the distance was visible, as was the rolling landscape. It was absolutely the most peaceful and beautiful experience we both had ever had. We can only imagine what the summit must have looked like.

We headed down slowly enjoying the warm air and attempting not to slip off the glacier. As it turned out a lot of other people were turning back for various reasons, to do with gear or altitude. We were back at the refugio by early morning and soon back in Latacunga.

Definitely a wonderful but bitter experience. Our guide, while excellent, was probably better suited to customers with a little more experience and interested in tough love. We think he was probably pretty frustrated that we had to turn around, and guess that he probably has dealt with some wimpy girls in his life, because he wanted to push ahead, sick or not... not really realising this wasn´t one of those cases...

The view from 5500 is beautiful and surreal and only wets the appetite for more climbs and a possible return to Cotopaxi someday.... except this time no more cold water in the middle of the night.

Quilotoa-Chugchillan: The Sweet Smell of Dust, Fumes and the Ditch

2006-10-07T19:06:00.000-04:00

The night was long at Manuel´s, not going to lie to you, that bed was hard as a rock. We rose early to try and get a view of Cotopaxi across the Laguna Quilotoa. No such luck, a wicked wind was blowing and Cotopaxi was clouded in. You could still see for miles and the Illiznas were snow covered in the distance.

We had agreed to go, with Manuel as our guide, for the 7.5mile trek to Chugchillan (rather than wait for the bus that dropped us off yesterday at 230pm to return and go there). Manuel got his mule Chocolate all saddled up with our bags and we set off on the hike around 8am.

The first hour of the hike skirts along the lip of the volcano and then down the edge of it through farmers´ fields, down, down, down into a huge canyon and back out again up towards Chugillan. It was a hike we probably could have done ourselves if not for the extreme heat in the day (aka we have really heavy bags) and for the rabid, racist dogs that live in some of the houses along the way. Apparently, another girl had been attacked a month ago really badly, and the nearest hospital is Latacunga. These dogs don´t really have a problem with locals, but with "gringos" they seem to have a different opinion. And sure enough they did, until Manuel showed them Chocolate´s ass and a few rocks to boot.

Manuel had a friend who owns Cloudforest Hostal in Chugchillan, so he brought us there. Chugcillan is a little bigger, it has a tiny store (and also ice cream .. yum) and paved roads. The hostal actually had showers, and proper W-C´s and no more dirt floors. Price again includes breakfast and dinner (no restaurants around here) and we soon settled into hammocks swinging to the breeze and basking in the full view of our route to Chugcillan.

There were two other people at the hostal that night, two retired Canadians on a four month trip of SA. They have a bit more money so had a private guide etc, but they were interesting to talk to because they have been to over 100 countries. As it turns out they are from Hollands Marsh in Ontario, and also just happen to know a friend of a friend in Whitehorse.. Small world.

The next day we were up in time to catch the Milk Truck at 9am. Actually we had ben asking around town and there was a rumour that there was an 830 bus. While waiting we got an offer from a Propane truck that was to return in 30 min. But before it or the milk truck could show up, this mystery bus came along. We pilled in along with all the locals and got the last seats at the very back of the bus. We soon realised that this was no ordinary bus as the driver was soon attaching a political flag to his antanna. We are pretty sure he was attempting to break a land speed record to get to Sigchos, as he was flying along the windy dirt road. The trip included such highlights as bumps with 2 feet of ass to air to seat ratio, a layer of dust on everything, exhaust, passing on one lane corners, including a ditch swerve, and of course getting to Sigchos in 45min (should have taken 90min).

His speed worked for us, as we managed to catch another mystery bus into town at 10am, and we got to Latacunga in record time by 1230pm.

Plans have kind of changed, and we have fallen into the luring gaze of Cotopaxi. Trekking and climbing here is a lot cheaper than back home and there is an oppurunity to climb Cotopaxi with a guide. The route, although not techinical, still requires a lot of endurance with the summit being 5897m and the base camp at 4,200m. Altitude is going to be a real factor, and a lot of people don´t make the summit because of the altitude. It will be 700m higher than we have ever been and will involve glacier travel. We have hired the services of a professional english guide. We will get training with crampons and ice axes the day before the asscent, mostly given that we will be travelling on ice, not because of any technical climbing requirements. The asscent is commensed at midnight, aiming to reach the summit by dawn, and then back down in a few hours.

Cotopaxi is the second highest mountain in Ecuador and the highest active volcanoe in the world. It towers above Latacunga, covered in snow and ice and often clouded in. People who have been up it say that only a clear day you can see into Colombia from the summit. Latacunga itself has been destroyed by it many times in the past, and is actually only 30min away from lava in the event of an erruption. In the past, lava has reached the town at speeds of 90km an hour. That being said it is once of the most watched and monitored volcanoes in the world. Currently there is NO ACTIVITY ON THE MOUNTAIN, AND IF THERE WAS WE WOULD NOT BE CLIMBING IT, NOR WOULD OUR GUIDE, NOR WOULD THERE BE ANYONE IN LATACUNGA.

Tomorrow is going to be a rest day, we will leave for the climb on Monday at 10am. Chance of a lifetime.

Saquisili-Quilotoa: Life in the Middle of Nowhere

2006-10-07T18:28:00.000-04:00

Thursday morning saw another early day, up early to get a view of Cotopaxi (before it clouds in around 8am), and also to head out to the indegenous market of Saquisili. Having just visited the famed market in Otavalo, it was an excellent oppurtunity to take in a much more authentic market.

There were a few stalls set up for toursity affairs (ponchos etc) but the rest of the market was aimed at local people, and they come from all over. Stalls with used clothing, food stuffs, household goods fill up the main market area. There is also a section set up with sewing machines to fix anything that may need to be fixed, as well there is a seperate animal market, that made the animal market at Otavalo look tiny.

The animal market is especially interesting because of the sounds and the smells that are there. As with all sections of the market it is flanked on the edges by food stalls selling all sorts of food, but most with a full roast pig which is carved away throughout the day. Then the market is broken down into sections, there is a section where you can buy food for your animals, and then from there it is the sheep and llama section, pig section, and cow, horse and donkey section. The sound of the pigs is the most amusing because they pretty much don´t want to do anything outside of snuffling the ground, and so their squeels and grunts fill the air. Some of it is kind of hard to take in because some of the owners get pretty annoyed with their pigs not listening and use some drastic dragging, switch hitting and kicking methods.

We must say we enjoyed this market far more than the market in Otavalo, although it was worth it to see both. The market in Otavalo is a lot more kitsche in retrospect, with repeat stall after repeat stall of tourist goods. Saquisili has a more authentic purpose, serving the community, and is less for show and at times seemed like a flea market (although parts of Otavalo´s market where definitely not for tourists).

We spent only a few hours in Saquisili as we had been told there was a 10am bus leaving Latacunga for Quilotoa, the first stop along the Quilotoa Loop. As usual, you have to ask a few people when the buses are leaving, every person says something different, and none of them end up being correct. The bus actually left at 1130am.

The bus ride in itself to Quilotoa was amazing. As it seems with most of our travels, it wound through dirt road switchbacks past farmlands and craggy mountains, absolutely breathtaking scenery. As the Loop is a bit off the beaten track, and because it isn´t tourist season, we were the only tourists on the bus, and the rest of the people were locals returning from the market to their homes.

We arrived in Quilotoa after a couple of hours and were dropped off on the side of the dirt road outside of town. Quilotoa is a tiny, tiny town (pop 125) on the top of a mountain which overlooks one of the most spectacular volcanic lagoons in Ecuador. There really aren´t any hostals in town, just a few very very basic beds for rent in people´s houses. Luckily we didn´t actually have to start knocking on doors because a man on a bike met us on the road in and told us he had a few beds at his house. For 7USD each we got a bed in a dirt floor house with a fire place and two meals.

As with most things Lonely Planet (hence forth referred to as LP) touches, Quilotoa is now learning to embrace the tourists and so our "hostal" owner had started up his place a year or two ago, and is working on it bit by bit. He has a small room with about ten beds in it, adjoining another smaller room with a common table and a fire stove.

This hostal is basically built on the lip of the crator´s rim and about a 30second jaunt uphill past the sheep and the pig to the lookout. The lagoon in itself is huge, so big I couldn´t even fit it into one picture, with tourqoise water and huge cliffs. After some tea we decided to head out and hike along its rim and down by the lagoon and back out again. This, in hindsight, was a poor idea to do in sandals given all the sand sliding over volcanic rock, but it was a fun adventure none the less.

The night was spent hanging around with Manuel and his family. Manuel didn´t speak any english, but he spoke Spanish and Quechua (local indegenous language in SA) and so it was a lot of fun speaking to him. At times it was hard, it felt somewhat like we were being babysat. There were no other tourists there, or for what we could tell in town at all. His family, or at least one of them was always with us. They are quite resourceful, having started up the hostal and also Menual paints in the Ecuadorian style of the lagoon and Cotopaxi and llamas etc. His esposa weaves scarves and Manuel also translates stories into Quechua to sell. Sitting with them was very interesting, it is just hard sometimes because we find that a lot of people know that if they put up with some small talk with tourists they are more likely to make a bigger sale.

That being said we asked as much as we could. We talked about his land, how it is about a 15 by 20meter plot and that he bought it for a few thousand dollars. His plot is right on the lagoon and back in Canada it would be worth millions. He told us a large pig here is worth 100+ USD, although that is cheaper in the city. He said a rooster is worth 10-15 USD, although again, cheaper in the city. (Quilotoa is very far removed and tiny, there is no store or water. Manuel has to go into town once a week on the 3am bus to get supplies) He told me a good horse is worth 300USD, although for packing and trekking his mule, Chocolate, is better. He talked about how he usually goes to bed at 6pm and gets up at 3 am every day. He owns three plots of land, one down by the lagoon, the one his house is on, and another one out in the country. His wife works as part of a humanitarian sponsored well dig, because Quilotoa has no water (it is too high). He has six kids (from 6 to 20) he is 44 years old. Four kids live with him and two are away in Baños studying school (school in the area only goes until 6th year).

In any case it was very interesting. The whole family was in by the fire (it gets dang cold up there at night) his wife knitting and his kids playing. His son really liked the Canadian money, and we are kicking ourselves that we only brought a quarter, penny, dime and a twenty dollar bill. They were really interested to learn that our 20 is worth less than the USD 20.

The family doesn´t have enough beds, so I think they usually sleep in the beds they have for tourists. Manuel asked us if his wife could sleep in one and we didn´t mind. He ended up sleeping there with one of his kids and his wife. They must have been tired staying up with us because they were snoring within seconds.

Latacunga: Life on the Loop

2006-10-04T21:22:00.000-04:00

Today was a day of spur of the moment actions. We caught a bus from Quito to Latacunga in what is becoming our fashion of showing up at the Terminal and our cabby pointing out a bus leaving the terminal going in our direction. Touts screaming, us hustling, bags thrown on board, and before we can blink and recap that ten minutes ago we were in our hostel, we are on the way to wherever we are going.

The ride was beautiful. Green fields rolling over hills and tumbling up mountain slopes. We passed by Cotopaxi, one of (if not the) highest active volcanoes in the world. Snow capped and glaciated with its perfect volcanic cone, it towered above the bare mountains around.

Latacunga is a busy market town in itself, but for us it is the starting point of the Quilotoa Loop, a high alpine dirt road, cirling the sierra. It takes a couple of days to get around it via bus and-or milk truck and-or local vehicles. The road in itself is only a couple of Km´s, but minimal transport combined with a high alpine volcanic lake and hiking make it take a while.

The plan is to head out to a local indegenous market (apparently the most important indegenous one in Ecuador) and then head out on the loop. It will take 2-5 days, so you can all be thankful, the insane postings and photos will be on hiatus until then.

As to all of you Canadians, Happy Thanksgiving.

Quito: trolleys, plazas, churches and pedestrian steets

2006-10-02T20:34:00.000-04:00

We are in Quito. We arrived on Sunday after a long hot bus ride from Otavalo, this time, we were able to disembark at the bus station. With our packs on our backs, and our guidebook and some souveiners in our hand, we were off and found a hostal without too much difficulty.

After checking into our room, we were off to explore the city, and look at other accomodations for the next two nights that we would be here. We hadn´t walked very far before we realized that Quito is a city that is removed from our experiences in South America thus far. Surprisingly, for a big city, the pace is very relaxed and the people nice. We have not been harrassed by touts trying to get our buisness and are very comfortable and feel safe walking through the streets.

Quito is very reminisant of a European city. The streets, although mainly one ways, are a little wider than other cities in SA (not the sidewalks) and there are many pedestrian only streets. The Grand Plazas, interior courtyards and the abundance of churches all speak to European influence. The Colonial architecture in the Old Town occupies street after street, and we are pretty excited to do more exploring.

Our guidebook does recommend that we do not walk the streets after dark, so our sightseeing on Sunday was very limited as we wanted to see some of the other Hostals that are in the city. After a couple of hours, and countless rooms looked at, we arrived at Hostal Bambu. Despite a very plain exterior, we were very impressed with the inside of the hostal, complete with a kitchen, library, internet service and a roof top patio with a spectacular view of the city. We quickly reserved for the next two nights.

On Monday, we spent the morning wandering the "Old Town" of Quito. The city is divided into the Old Town and the New Town. The Old town is the more colonial part of the city, while the New Town is much more modern and more of the buisness, tourist sector with its taller buildings as well as a couple of Universities and most of the banks.

We checked into our new hostal in the early afternoon, and spent the remainder of the day doing some running around, which included a bit of a struggle to send a package back to Canada. Should arrive in 8 days....so we are told.

We have been very surprised to find that we are enjoying Quito, and despite being a large city, are feeling quite relaxed, and aren´t overly anxious to get out of town.

Our plans are to head off to the Equator tomorrow, a seemingly simple 22km bus ride, and blow our minds jumping between hemispheres. Then explore Quito a bit more in the afternoon. Wednesday, we will begin our travels again, heading south to Latacunga. It is very near Cotopaxi, a major mountain in Ecuador, and also a side trip that we want to do that will take us through some (hopefully spectacular and not clouded in) Andean country and should be quite interesting as we have to arrange much of our own transportation along the way.

Might be a while before we blog next as a result.. and probably until we send more photos (as if we haven´t sent out enough.. phhew)

Otavalo: The Aftermath of the Market

2006-09-30T21:32:00.000-04:00

So the market has come and gone...

It was 12 hours of craziness. It by far exceeded anything we possibly could have imaged in terms of magnitude. It was almost a living entity, spreading out from Plaza de Ponchos in every direction, colours spilling onto the streets, and soon onto the people as more and more people showed up and soon adorned themselves in the wares.

We started the morning at 430am.... heading out around 5ish towards the animal market. We arrived, following a few unhappy sheep to find the crowd growing. We were pretty much the only tourists who had managed to get up that early, and it was quite a sight. Pigs, sheep, cattle, goats, piglets, young cows, one donkey and three horses. The sound of the pigs squeeling, was a little bit unnerving, but you soon realise they pretty much dont want to do anything except eat.

Locals mill about and barter, trade and haggle over prices of the animals. Food stalls are set up for people to eat, and we even saw bannick cooking. Trucks are unloaded and reloaded with squealing animals. We even saw a truck bed full of hog tied sheep.

From there it was on to the crafts market which was spreading and growing rapidly by 8am. By 10am it was in full swing. This market isn´t only for toursits and there are plenty of spots to buy seeds, beans, rope, bags etc.

The colours and the sights were reminiscent of the smaller market the day before, only multiplied by ten. A lot of the stalls repeat themselves in what they offer, but there were also a lot of unique stalls offering pottery and different textiles.

The market started to wind down around 4pm and by 6pm almost all of the hundreds of stalls had disapeared. All that was left was trash from those who had waundered the streets, and even that was quickly disapearing as street sweepers magically appeared....

We had wanted to catch a Cock fight which was supposed to start at six pm. We then asked aroudn when no one was there and were told it was to start at seven pm. ... At seven pm we were told eight or nine..... so itwas no cock fight for us. ...

We have managed to upload a few photos of the premarket day happenings, and will post more of market day on Ofoto in a couple of weeks.

Tomorrow it is on to Quito...

Otavalo: In the Shadow of Fire and Risk

2006-09-29T16:51:00.000-04:00

We now reside in Otavalo. Otavalo, the small market town (well not soo small, ie. 25,000 people) residing north of Quito, north of the Equator and what seems to be north, south and west of volcanoes.

We bipassed Quito, to come to Otavalo specifically for the Saturday market, one of the oldest in SA, and in Ecuador. This market has been active since before Incan times. The main market takes place on Saturday where we are told there is a crafts market (ie. ponchos, hats, scarves, mitts, bags, weavings, masks, table clothes, jewlery, musical instruments etc), a food market, and an animal market. This all starts happening at the crack of dawn.

The crafts market, in a somewhat smaller state occupies the Plaza de Ponchos every day, and that is mostly there for the tourists who come here to buy the local crafts. The market, already, in its smaller state is quite enjoyable. Many of the people here are dressed traditionally, which means the men wear white pants with a white shirt, and sometimes a poncho, they have long braided hair and usually a hat. The women wear beautifully embriodered white blouses with black skirts. They wear necklaces and braided hair, and are really quite striking. That combined with the myriad of colours of blankets and ponchos blowing in the wind with the back drop of volcanic Mnt Cotacachi looming in the background.

To get here we took yet another hellish night bus, followed within seconds of a cab and local bus. The bus weaves again through the Andes with views of the volcanoes including Mnt. Cotapaxi in the distance, cloaked in snow. Life near the equator is marked by extremely hot afternoons and bright, sunny mornings, with clouds rolling in during the afternoon and nights that get quite cold.

Otavalo itself is much more touristy, the main strip caters to the tourist crowd with main stream restaurants and shops. It seems like the market is boardering on kitsche now in some regards, as it is profitable for people to be here all week. We are looking forward to tomorrow where indigenous sellers are to fill the streets with stalls, and especially to the animal market which is for local use only.

People here eat at the stalls in the food market, where you eat next to pigs heads and cows feet. Anything you want to buy can be found from spices to exotic fruit and beyond. Life here in Equador is also markedly different from life in Northern Peru, where it seemed slightly more poor. From what we have found by talking to people as we travel, Northern Peru is often less travelled and-or altogether skipped by traveller tourists. Now that we are in more touristy towns, people driving nicer cars, indegnous people walk with cellphones. It is hard to tell at this point so early in our travels if this is more of an Ecuadorian thing, or because this is a more tourist visited town.

As a note about our last day in Puerto Lopez, we decided to rent bikes for the day. We biked the 15km to the nearby National Park where there was a stunning beach called Playa de las Frailles. It was beautiful, white sand stretch of land, hemmed in on both ends by red-sand cliffs jutting out from the water, licked and sprayed white with foam and surf. On one end was a mirador (lookout) which you can climb to over look the beaches and the tourquoise water. Of course you also get a good view of the guard they have stationed on the beach.

Yes, guards are a part of our lives now. It is odd sometimes, especially seeing one on the beach, but then you look around, and although there are only a hand full of people, they are all white. There is some comfort, I suppose, in the fact that we can swim and not have to watch our bags like hawks, although I think the guard just fell asleep in the bushes. But the guards are not always for white people, as it may seem. We see guards in every bank, in some grocery stores (full on machine gun), drug stores, street corners, political buildings etc. Part of it is that there is some element of instablity here, and I am sure a lot of it has to do with political situations, that we as yet, have no real understanding of. But guards are a part of life, life moves on around them. And although, from a North American perspective it is hard to fathom them being there as they are a blunt reminder that life isn´t perfect and safe.... but then again some of the people here would think driving a highway in Canada and seeing a bear by the side of the road would make them feel unsafe. Life is different here.

This blog is definetly here for those of you that read it, but it is also here for us to look back on and remember the places and things we have done. We are here to experience life in an other country, to see what is the same and different from life in Canada. And hopefully get a better appreciation for what we have back home. And although some of our adventures may read as crazy or dangerous, remember that we are in a different country but we are still the same people. Both relatively intelligent people who make good/smart/ and safe decissions. Multiply that by two...and maybe you think that all of our blogs are made up....*smile*

That being said, and given that we seem to know quite a few people these days dabbling in the Yukon´s polical scene back home, we have been quite interested in the political happenings here in SA. We were told in Peru that they had just had a National election and had municipal elections coming. Here in Ecuador, not sure what the situation is. There are rallies gallor. People spend the day cruzing the roads in whatever beatup truck they have, with stickers and banners plastered all over them, often with loud speakers and flags promoting their candidate, and there are a lot of candidates. In Peru they vote by a party symbol and vote number. In Ecuador they vote by a number. You see cars dressed up, people, and buildings. A LOT of buildings are painted, not just unoccupied buildings, but houses. People are very passionate here.

Although life must be and is hard for many people they live passionate and happy lives and area always willing to talk and smile with you as you go by.

Puerto Lopez: I don´t Even Know how to say that in English

2006-09-26T17:18:00.000-04:00

Welcome to Ecuador.

We made it through our night bus from Trujillo to the border between Peru and Ecuador. From there it was a bit of chaos, as we jumped off the bus a half hour before the border in order to catch a bus that goes through the border stopping at the immigration offices.

Even though getting to this bus station meant we had a run in with one of the infamous cabbies out to tell you anything he can to convince you the busses aren`t running and that you should pay him 20$ to drive you to the border. We were firm, loud, and by now used to being pushy with people and soon found the bus station we wanted with the help of some nice locals.

We were certainly glad we didn´t have to walk the border on foot, as it is a distance between the two offices and a ZOO. This isn´t your run of the mill Alaska-BC border crossing, there are tons of people, wares for sale, con men, people willing to stamp your passport for money out back, money changes, dogs, pigs, bananas, fake guards and on and on. The Peru side was no problem, and with her new found pushy and hardened skills, Justine soon pushed through the throng of people to get stamped on the Ecuadorian side. We even beat out all of the locals on the bus.

The chaos behind us we relaxed on the second floor of the bus, protected by our armed guard all the way to Guayquil. Guayquil, while not the capìtal of Ecuador, is the largest city in the country and is a couple hours from the border on the west coast. The bus station there is HUGE. Bus stations in Peru are all spread out by companies, and not always even in the same area. Here in Ecuador, all of the companies are in one terminal, and it feels like half of the country is there too. The heat is SWELTERING.

We navigated that, found our cabby, who said he knew where the hostel was we were looking for (of course he didn´t) and after some driving around we soon found the hostel we were looking for. We decided after the night of travelling to stay in Guayquil for the night and head to Puerto Lopez in the morning. The burbs of Guayquil are pretty modern, all complete with your McDonalds, KFC´s and so on. Prices are more expensive here, as the dollar is the American, but still pretty cheap.

The following morning we got up early and headed to the station. From buying our tickets to jumping on the bus, we were on our way to Puerto Lopez via Santa Elena within 10 minutes. The land here is dry, although irrigated and you pass many banana plantations on the way to the coast. We changed buses and boarded a local bus to P.Lopez, we knew it was going to be an interesting ride by the amount of bangles and fringes this bus contained on the interior. Six speakers pumping music and some locals running out to buy a 26 of liquer made it interesting indeed.

The ride passes many small beach towns known mostly for the strip of land on the ocean, fish or the surf.

We arrived in P. Lopez sane and thankfully sober, and checked into our chilled hotel, made of reed cabanas, palm frond roof and complete with a roof top pool table, outdoor kitchen and more hamocks than meet the eye.

Slow season is nice, as we are inbetween backpacking and beach season, so it was really easy to arrange a tour of the nearby National Park. The National Park here protects a few offshore islands, water and some forests here on land. Yesterday we boarded a boat and headed out to do some whale watching, boobie sighting and snorkeling.

It didn´t take us more than 45 minutes to sight the humpback whales and we spent a good hour watching them move through the water. Justine also spent most of that time on top of the boats roof, being thrown around amidst the huge waves, trying to get some photos at no small risk to life and camera. The seas were rough indeed and while we moved on to the Island a few people lost a bit of their breakfast as a bonus.

Isla de la Plata, is sometimes known as the ¨Poor Man´s Galapagos¨and it is home to the Blue footed Booby, Red Footed Booby, Masked Booby, Frigate Bird, Sea Lions among others. We took a guided tour, in Spanish, and although we understood minimal information, we were able to get within a few feet of the birds and get some really interested photos.

After the tour of the Island, we headed back to the boat for some lunch and some snorkeling in the reefs off the island. If we could tell you the names of the fish we saw, we would, all we can say is that there were lots and they were all sorts of colours. Sea urchins and coral below us and fish all around. It was really beautiful, and really makes us want to eventually try to arrange to get our PADI certificate which would allow us to scuba dive.

The day was long as we returned home around 6pm and of course the seas were even rougher. Town life here is pretty relaxed, lots of small fishing boats, and otherwise the economy is tourism. It would be pumping here come January.

Today was a calm day spent walking the beach and collecting shells. Tomorrow we are going to rent bikes and bike into the park here to see a beach and a view point there. We will also leave to catch the night bus to Quito.

From Quito we hope to get a bus immediately to Otavalo, where we will spend a couple of days waiting for the famous Saturday market. From there back to Quito and some of the Equator festivities.

Lima-Casma Photos

2006-09-22T17:28:00.000-04:00

Photos of Lima and Casma are up.

To view them you will need to receive an invite from us via email. If you did not get an invite (our list is not complete and our gmail is down currently). Please email either of us and we will put you on it.

You will receive the invite via email. Either click on the link if you already have access to Kodak Gallery, or follow their instructions.

Photos for Huaraz and Santa Cruz are coming... but the size of Justine´s 6MB photos, coupled with the S-L-O-W speed of the internet and CPUs here... are presenting a time issue.... So patience...patience.

PS. Everything here is in Spanish (including the help session of Blogger).. does anyone know how to get photos onto Blogger? Is there a limit with size, or the amount you don´t have archived? We go to load our photos and it says it is all fine and then the photo never shows up... Anyone know why????

Trujillo: Moche, Inca, Chimu, say-what?!? overload

2006-09-22T16:08:00.000-04:00

Ahhh Trujillo....

A night of nightmarish luxury brought us to Trujillo. We took an overnight semi`cama (semi bed) bus from Huaraz to Trujillo. The service includes reclining chairs with foot/leg-rests, snacks, drinks, a stewardess and a bathroom! All this luxury, how could you not sleep? I guess you have to remember that the first four hours of this 10 hour trip is winding through steep mountain passes to get to the coast. This time is spent between being flung from one side of the bus to the other.

We arrived in Trujillo around 630am and checked into Casa De Clara. It is a family run house owned by an Englishman and his Peruvian wife. Collectively they speak about a billlion languages. The house is pretty run down, but the owners do tours in english of the nearby ruins and so we decided to stay.

Yesterday we visited Chan Chan which is a giant ruin of a Chimu city. It was built in AD1300, and it´s highest structures were once over 10m high. The ruins are massive in size and scale and stretch several kms in either direction in the destert. Construction was made of mud and adobe and there are still some intact sculptings and reliefs. I would say it was worth it to have the english tour, but Micheal has been doing this for about 18 years now, and I think it is about 8 years too many. He gets into a monotone dialogue which is about as painless as doing a marathon, or a non-stop sesson of all my Iconography classes combined from my degree. He just knows way too much about everything, and has lost touch with presenting it in an interesting way. Information overload!!

Nevertheless, life was easy going with him to site, so we opted to go the next day with him to the Pyramids of the Sun and Moon. There were some amazing discoveries of murals and reliefs at these pyramids, with colours and paints still intact and it was amazing to see. All are set in the desert, but with ever increasing irrigated and reclaimed farm land.

Trujillo is a busy city, the biggest in the north of Peru. There are tons of taxis wiring around town, and once again we cannot remain anonymous. We are stopped walking around the busy parts of town by people wanting to practise their english, and otherwise trying to either sell something or probably trying to rip us off.

We have still been suffering the stomach issues, which has made life interesting.

Our plan is to head to the border tonight. We are catching a bus to Tumbes tonight which will arrive tomorrow morning. This is right on the border with Ecuador. We hope to get through the border, and catch a bus to Guayquil that same day. From there we might have to spend the night and head the next day to Puerto Lopez on the Ecuadorian coast.

In the Shadow of Giants

2006-09-19T19:26:00.000-04:00

Santa Cruz Trek

http://www.huaraz.com/santacruz/english.html

The trek was absolutely amazing, rain, snow, hail and sun. We were trekking with 2 Brits, 4 Israelies, and 2 German-Belgians and we started off at 600am on Saturday morning. We drove the 3 plus hours, winding up mountain passes and twisting behind the highest mountain in Peru, Huascarin. Then we dropped back down again and wound and twisted our way down a valley towards the trailhead in Vaqueria.

Time wasn´t wasted at the trailhead, and we didn´t even see our packs off the van and onto the donkies before we were heading off down the trail. The trail initially winds through farm fields and past mud-adobe houses with thatched roofs. Locals working the fields or in their houses remain stone faced until we greeted them with "buenas dias," and then they smiled and said "hello". Children say hello and sit waiting for candies from the trekkers. The trail was pretty leasurely for us, however the rest of our group did not find it so.

We spent the afternoon travelling a scenic 13km, winding our way through valleys surrounded by towering, dry desert mountains. Cows, mules, sheep, goats and horses mostly roam free over the land, and every possible scrap of grass has been consumed. We arrived at our first campsite in Puria (around 3800m) at a crossroads between valleys. Glaciers hang from the mountains to the west and north around the campsite and provided a stunning backdrop.

The campsite itself was a huge wakeup call. September is the beginning of the rainy season here and with it, the slow season. Donkey, cow and horse droppings are all over the ground. Litter is thrown and left by groups in the streams, on the ground and in the outhouses. The outhouses themselves are no more than holes inthe ground under decaying structures. Litter and garbage are left in them. People thus don´t want to use the outhouses and their guides opt to either dig pits, which they never fill in, or let people go all over what little trees there are. Toilet paper is everywhere. But then again, you are lucky for that because we saw many people peeing into the rivers and streams which they take water from later. It really makes you appreciate how much Canadians care for their wilderness. The land and the wild here in Peru is absolutely breathtaking, but the people are not always trying to preserve it for future generations, but merely for their own. I guess in part that has something to do with the money we are able to throw at keeping our wilderness clean and also the education we receive about preservation.

We went to sleep with stars overhead and awoke the next morning to thick cloud having snuck in through the night. We set off that morning through a drizzle that soon turned to rain. As the morning progressed and we climbed higher. Throughout the day, we decided to slow our pace, in part because we were now well over 4000m and it is hard to keep a good pace going, and in part because we were hoping it would clear. We soon found ourselves at the back of our group of people and also rewarded. Around noon the clouds started to burn off and the towering Mnt Taullijaru (5830m) soon began to poke through. As we ate lunch a Condor also flew over head.

Not long after lunch we made it through the pass of Punta Union at 4750m. We were surrounded by huge glaciers and towering mountains on both sides of the pass. It was late enough in the afternoon and so on the way down we were lucky enough to observe several avalanche-glacier slides. It was a long day as the sun was really hot, the altitude high and hard to walk in, and the distance covered was long. Our campsite for the night was Taullipampa.

Night falls here in Peru at 630pm, and we all have dinner around this time. Our guides set up a eating tent and cook for us. Dinner usually consisted of soup (fresh) and a dinner of rice, meat and a vegetable. Lunches, leave something to be desired, and were not much more than a piece of dry bread with either a piece of cheese or jam and a few candies and snack bars. Breakfast is bread, jam and tea. We spent the nights playing ¨Yanif¨ taught to us by the Israelis and everyone went to bed early.

The following day found us once again chocked in clouds. We were supposed to go to a lookout to see the Mnt Alpamayo (called by the Peruvians one of the most beautiful mountains in the world). Everyone opted not to go, but Chris and I figured that we would get to the next camp by noon, and that we may as well take the detour. We were not rewarded for our actions, although the clouds were lifting when we left. As we rounded one of the steep switchbacks to get back to the trail we were shocked to discover a dead horse. He couldn´t have been dead very long at all, and it was quite surprising. But as you go through this trail you begin to see more and more that it is not just garbage left behind. A lot of animals and their bones are left behind. Some of the trails have a lot of loose boulders and rocks, making it quite easy to stumble or break a leg. All pack animals are just turned out at night to find their own grass, and because it is all picked over, there isn´t much. These animals are carrying very big loads, and probably not going on a lot of nutrition.

The final day out of the trek to Cashapampa was somewhat of a slap in the face and it was insanely sunny and warm. We passed through towering cliffs, echoing with water crashing down through waterfalls. Our ride was waiting for us, and aside from a flat tire we made it back to Huaraz by 3pm. We hung out in Huaraz and caught the 930pm bus out to Trujillo.

Going with a group was a lot of fun, and being with a guide definetly made life easy. Not having to carry anything but water and a camera is nice while getting used to the altitude, as well as coming to camp and really not having to cook. You end up with a lot of time to observe the surroundings and life around you. But somehow it seems not having to do anything takes the fun out of it. Cooking and camp chores, in hindsight are a lot of fun, and are integral to our experience. Also, seeing some of the guide´s attitudes it is a little hard to believe you are paying to promote some of the things they are doing. In hindsight, I think we will try to be arranging more of our trips ourselves.

Trekking without Control

2006-09-15T22:02:00.000-04:00

So we head out tomorrow for our trek of Santa Cruz. It is kind of a weird feeling, because we have really no control over the packing and the planning (And as many of you know, both, or at least one of us is a control freak). It especially feels weird because we leave at six am tomorrow morning and the office for the trekking agency is open until 10pm, thus more people could be added at any time.. how do they plan for this!!?

Anyway, for those of you interested in our constant goings'ons... The trekking agency is

http://www.andeankingdom.com/index.php

We have booked bus tickets to Trujillo, leaving the evening we return from the trek. We have done a double check on our time here and it all of a sudden sunk in that when we get back from the trek we will have been here almost two weeks. We want to quickly move through Trujillo and another town and on to Ecuador.... in other words there might be another big post in a week or two because we might not check email until then. (Parents don't worry)

All for now.

How far will your Soles take you?

2006-09-14T21:28:00.000-04:00

So we decided to change hostels in Huaraz. Not really for any reason, just because we had some time to kill and found a nicer place to stay.

We are now staying at Olaza''s B and B. It is a little more pricy, but there are hot showers (never will I take them for granted again), breakfast included, an upstairs roof patio with 360 panorama of the mountains, a TV, music, DVD's (english ones), free internet and a library. So we thought we would hang out here for a while.

www.andeanexplorer.com

We have booked an excursion with some Brit's that we met via a bulletin board for a four day trek of the Santa Cruz trail. We will be going with Andean Kingdom. There are a lot of options here for trekking, all ranging in price, and many offering a lot and not coming through. Seems like my kind of hiking..(or at least I am sure Marty and Andrew will think it is) donkies carry everything.. you just carry a day pack with your camera. We''ll post how it actually ends up next week. Sounds like it is a very busy trail because you can book the day before and there are a lot of companies going, so I am beginning to wonder how remote the trail will be...

Today we took a tour up to the Pastoruri Glacier. There really are no english speaking gudes so we went with a spanish group. Of course the guide starts into a big long half hour serious talk about acclimatizing and what to do and what not to do and things like that. I got bits and pieces, enough to know it was serious, about coca leaves and chocolate and not sleeping.....

Map: http://www.andix.com/huaraz_maps/huaraz3.html

Website with photos: http://www.geocities.com/smailbd76/Huaraz.htm

We stopped to sip tea made of coca leaves which is supposed to help with altitude. Then we continuted onwards and upwards visiting some llamas dressedup for pictures with colourful blankets, earings with pompoms and sunglasses. We decided not to pay to have our pictures taken with them, but got some of other people. We also stopped by these giant Puya Raymondi flowering, I think they are from the cacti family. In any case they have the worlds tallest flower, taking up to 100 years to grow a flower 10m high.

http://www.pbase.com/jorginho/image/32076481

The glacier was nice, but neither of us came off it feeling overly excited about the visit up there (might have been the splitting headache from the 5200m of altitude). More interestingly was to watch a few overweight and rich tourists from somewhere come all decked out in snowpants, mitts, hats and watch them get packed up the hill on the backs of farmers. Like I said a few soles go a long way, you can get packed up a mountain. On the glacier, they let you go anywhere you want, I guess I shouldn't say let you, because there is no one there to stop you. At that altitude a few km walk to the face of it takes almost 45min, and since you only have two hours, you can't go far. But there were school children running all over the beast, sliding down on tarps and having a gay old time.

Coming down we watched a girl on a horse filming a music video. Peruvian/South American music videos are funny, we have watched some on the bus, and they basically include one or two sites and some low-budget filming. It was funny to watch her singing/miming to the ghetto blaster and riding off with the fat tourists who just got packed up the hill a few moments before.

Other than that we are now back in Huaraz, nursing headaches and looking up places in Trujillo. The plan is to head out on the trek at 6am Sat. morning. We will return Tuesday, and either catch a night bus to Trujillo that day, or leave the next. We plan to be in Trujillo for a few days, and then quickly on to Chiclayo. In both cities there are Incan and pre-Incan sites we want to visit. Then it will be on to Ecuador, in a week and a half to two weeks.

75,000 Femurs, 2 Midgets and 1 Desert Mountain Abyss

2006-09-12T19:03:00.000-04:00

What a weekend.

Since we last posted we spent our last day in Lima wandering around the city taking in the sites and visiting the San Fernesto Convent. The convent contains a library with some of the oldest and most important books in South America, and they are all sitting on shelves and out for viewing, original prints and all. This isn´t like the rare book libraries you see back home all enclosed in glass. The convent also has many paintings and murals, some restored, but still open to the elements, and it is pretty humid in Lima.

The highlight of the convent was the catacombs. The catacombs house some 75,000 people all buried in mass graves and plots beneath the church. It was the buring place for people of the church, as well as the citizens of Lima. The catacombs were interesting inthemselves, if not a little errie, as the curators decided to rearrange the bones in circular and interesting patterns. Skulls and femurs dance together in a very odd display. (Having hard time uploading photos from other websites, plus we weren´t allowed to take photos inside, otherwise type into Google Images San Francisco, Lima and you will see pictures of skulls)

We then caught our bus to Casma, on Peru time (1 hour late to leave and 3 hours late to arrive). We arrived in the middle of the night and decided to splurge on a hotel a bit out of our price range 30CAD a night. We awoke to a beautiful flowered courtyard, pool, gymnasium, playground, restaurant and some monkeys in a cage. 30 dollars goes a long way here.

None'the'less, we are still cheap people and we took a mototaxi to another hotel (mototaxis are abundant in the small towns and they are a cross between a motorized bike with two seats behind the driver and covered with tarps. They are more prevalent than cars in Casma, and the locals take great pride in blinging out their ride with decals of Nike and Wolves, some even have neon lights).

We spent the first day wandering the town. The town of Casma is techically five hours north of Lima along the coast and is encased in dry desert like mountains. The mountains basically consist of dry sand'like rock. The downtown is quite small, yet insanely busy with people coming in from the surrounding communities to buy and hawk wares. If we felt like outsiders in Lima, it was definitely so in Casma, as in three days we did not see any other white people.

The first day we ate lunch in a restaurant and dined upon bowls of chicken foot and gizard soup (quite excellent) and chicken, rice, beans and lettuce, all washed down with purple corn juice for the equivalent of less than 2CAD. What a feast! And immediately after I asked exaclty what kind of juice we were drinking we were soon engaged in a two hour conversation with the locals. My spanish is growing exponentially by the hour, and everyone in Casma was so friendly. They all want to know where you are from and what Canada is like. They want to tell you about their country, and are happy you are at least trying to learn their language. We have given out our email to so many people because so many want to learn english and we have already gotten correspondence from some.

We were soon invited to a Comedy Festival at the Municipal Complex. It was to include local Peruvian acts, including two midget commedians and also one of the women we were talking to was singing at the festival. We agreed to go.

Of course the festival was on Peruvian time and thus three hours late to start. It was a children´s comedy festival, as I guess Peruvians, and maybe South Americans find midgets really funny, so most of the town was there. One of our friends was the DJ at the local radio station and for that night he was announcing to the crowd about his Canadian visitors, and of course as soon as the festival started they wanted to make fun of us as tourists, and to include us in the festival. Chris was the first act and had to get up on the stage (local football field) and lip-sing with glasses to a song. The comedy was intersting in that it was very physical and thus we could understand it.

The second day in Casma we took a mototaxi out to the ruins of Sechin. They are about five km from the city and there is also included a small museum. The ruins are mostly a wall and a city within. You aren´t allowed in the small city, but you can walk on the hill beside it to see in. The walls are fully covered in relief images of warriors and people, as well as water carvings, they are in amazing condition, and very beautiful. In the distance the wall of the Andes juts up into mountains, higher than any I have ever seen.

We decided to leave Casma yesterday, and it was somewhat with heavy hearts as we were getting to know people and it was small enough to get a lot of hellos and friendly smiles in the street.

We took a six hour bus ride through the Cordillera Negra to reach Huaraz. The road here is paved only in part through a desert and then hits a BUMPY dirt road. It wound and twisted all the way up from 90m above sea level to over 4000m, and went through some amazing scenic vistas, incredible dropoffs and some cute little houses and towns, all bearing in mind that what they consider two lane roads, is really more like one lane. The Cordillera Negra is a really dry mountain range filled with cacti and brush. It was really interesting to see how far up these mountains they farm. The local farmers really are scratching out an existence on whatever land they can claim and fields reached to the tops of the mountains. We saw tons of pigs, horses, mules, llamas and on. Way too much to describe, and of course many people dressed in authentic dress.

We dropped down into the town of Huaraz (3,090m) with views of the Cordillera Blanca in the distance. The views are filled with amazing glacier chocked mountains, there are over 50 peaks here at over 5700m high (North America alone only has three) and Peru´s highest mountain Huascaran at 6768m is found here. For people who have read-watched ¨Into the Void¨ this is where that went down. In any case we were quickly inundated with offers for lodging, as it is a much bigger city(pop. 100 000) and so as it got dark (630pm) we found a hostel and went and had dinner.

Altitude got the better of us and Justine went down with a splitting headache and we were both a little out of it *L*(might have been the sangria)...Today, we spent the day wandering the town and getting our bearings. This place makes Banff and Jasper look like a joke in terms of trekking and outdoor options. There are literally a plethora of options and the sky is the limit, horseback riding, mountaineering, trekking, canyoning, bungee, you name it you can do it. We want to do the Santa Cruz trek which will take us by Huascaran and also up onto a pass (Punat Union)around 4700m. We spent the day talking to guides and pricing it out and we will probably leave in a couple of days.

For now we have to acclimatize and tomorrow we will probably hike over to a local ruin. Following that we will take a bus-tour-hike up to a local glacier at 5000m to acclimatize to that. Life here in Huaraz is very busy with many students at school here and a lot of people catering to tourism. Tourism isn´t as big here as Cuzco but it is growing fast, and our books are already outdated. Still, as it is now slow season, there aren´t that many travellers and we have only seen a handfull of gringos thus far. I think in the busy season it would be really easy to find other trekkers etc.

Still there are many restaurants catering to all needs and we even found a great coffee joint with a huge library of books from fiction to biography and travel. It has board games and one of the best panaroma views of the mountians. We will probably hang out there and just get used to the rush. It feels like so much has happened and we have really only been here five days.

Hasta Luego.