Puno and Titicaca were ok. In Cuzco right now at the Moon Hospedaje Familiar, which has no internet :( But I won´t be there much, so probably not gonna change. Why?
Gonna do Macchu Picchu the lazy, expensive way. Then goin to the Manu Rainforest for five days and four nights. And probably go to Nazca and then fly back to the states. Will write more when the internet envelops me more with its love. And possibly use proper grammar with full sentences.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Thank you!
I just want to say thank you to everyone who commented, emailed, messaged or thought of me after hearing about my little impromptu adventure. Just knowing there are so many people thinking about me helped incredibly with my recovery.
I'm a little worse for the wear, but after a few days here at Yunta Wasi in Arequipa, I think I'm ready to hit the road again. I can't say enough good things about Yunta Wasi and Pichin, the owner. He helped me get my brain pictures and made sure I had everything I needed. If you're ever in Arequipa and looking for a place to call home, Yunta Wasi (Av. Lima 610 Vallecito) is the place to go.
I'm ready to hit the road again and am off for Puno and the shores of Lake Titicaca bright and early. Mostly going because it's fun to say and I have two weeks to kill until my flight home. You heard right! Flyin back to super-size land for an indefinite amount of time to get my head on straight...
New Itinerary: Puno probably until Thursday or Friday. Cuzco and Macchu Picchu (the boring way) and maybe some jungle action until late next week. Shoot up through Nazca for a day and into Lima by the 23rd and then fly to SFO on the 24th. See ya on the flip side!
I'm a little worse for the wear, but after a few days here at Yunta Wasi in Arequipa, I think I'm ready to hit the road again. I can't say enough good things about Yunta Wasi and Pichin, the owner. He helped me get my brain pictures and made sure I had everything I needed. If you're ever in Arequipa and looking for a place to call home, Yunta Wasi (Av. Lima 610 Vallecito) is the place to go.
I'm ready to hit the road again and am off for Puno and the shores of Lake Titicaca bright and early. Mostly going because it's fun to say and I have two weeks to kill until my flight home. You heard right! Flyin back to super-size land for an indefinite amount of time to get my head on straight...
New Itinerary: Puno probably until Thursday or Friday. Cuzco and Macchu Picchu (the boring way) and maybe some jungle action until late next week. Shoot up through Nazca for a day and into Lima by the 23rd and then fly to SFO on the 24th. See ya on the flip side!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Colca Canyon: Long Version
You know that show, "I shouldn't be alive" on the discovery channel about stupid hikers doing stupid things and almost dying? I just had a real-life episode... so here goes. It's long. Get a cup of coffee and get comfortable, cuz there are a lot of words, more than a few sentence fragments and I'm pretty inconsistent with verb tenses, so be warned...
Day 1:
So I woke up around 4:30 in the AM to catch a bus from Arequipa to Colca Canyon.
View Larger Map
While waiting for the bus to start loading, I notice that there's this fellow with baggage that looks like everyone else's. It has this checkered cloth wrapped around a box. There's a stick poking out of one end then I realize that there's an animal's head poking out of the other. It's a baby goat making all the goat noises and everything. I start wondering to see if it goes underneath the bus with all the other baggage or if he brings it on the bus with him.
I get on my bus and notice the guy is standing next to my bus. I see him load the goat with all the other luggage and then he stood there and waited for the bus to leave. Fast forward to noon and I see the guy get his box-goat with everyone else's luggage and can only wonder if the box is shit and/or piss proof and am very glad that my bag was on the other side of the bus.
I re-organize some things in my pack and a fellow approaches me with a map and an ad for a hostel. I ask him for directions and he points me past a bullfighting ring and a soccer field. It looks about right so I follow his directions. I find both and then after the soccer field, I see a path leading to the right. I follow it and take in all of the scenery. I don't doubt that it's deeper than the Grand Canyon, but the walls aren't as steep so it's not as dramatic. Regardless, it's amazingly beautiful with the river and the mountains and the snow-capped volcanoes in the background. I keep walking and then find myself on a rock. I look down and realize that it's the end of a trail. I look to my left and see a trail and a town. I refer to my map and realize that the fellow was pointing me towards Llahuar, which isn't where I wanted to end up. I look to my right and realize that's where I want to be. I see the big trail that I'm supposed to be on to end up in Sangalle, where I wanted to go. I look down and see a trail that could get me to the big trail I want to be on.
So I back track, keeping an eye on the promising trail and find a rock and small trail that seems to get me over to the promising trail. It's all going fine, just taking in the view. I keep going lower and getting closer to the big trail. The weather's quite beautiful, sunny, barely a cloud in the sky. A little warm, but it's just a great place to be hiking. Then I find the trail leads to the edge of a cliff. So I backtrack, take another trail that leads me lower and to another cliff. This happens a couple more times and then I realize I might be lost. I'd seen donkey crap all over the place so assumed this was a people trail where people brought their pack mules and what not. The sun was going down so I just put out my sleeping pad, got in my sleeping bag and went to sleep. It was a beautiful night. It was clear and the stars were out and just the sound of the river far below. It was a little cold, but nothing out of the ordinary for a camping trip.
Day 2:
I wake up and watch the sun rise over the mountains and am ready to start the day. I make up my mind that I'm not really gonna make it to where I want to be so I start heading back up. After about two hours, I realize I'm completely lost. It all starts to look the same, vertical walls between me and where I want to be. So I just keep going until I can find a more accessible route to higher ground. I hear the familiar hee-hawing of donkeys and think that it's a group with a guide and everything, but I just come across two wild donkeys. They're staring at me like I'm an idiot and clearly not where I'm supposed to be. And then I realize how utterly lost I am.
I keep walking but can't find an easy way up. I don't see one and there's a narrow ledge between me and the next "real" trail. So I cross it, grabbing on to rocks and branches and roots when I feel the ground beneath my feet give way. I see my hat fly off. Then my glasses. Feel a bump or two on my head. Sky. Rocks. Sky. Rocks.
So I'm sitting there in a daze in a rock slide, maybe 50 feet from the edge? I can't really tell. I look down and there's some dried blood on my shirt mixed in with some fresh drops and I realize I'm still bleeding from my head. I grab a shirt from my bag and slap it on my head to help slow the blood loss. I grab my water and finish it off. When I reclose the bag, it slides down closer to the edge. I decide there's nothing of major importance in there, just clothes, sleeping bag, sleeping pad and a tent. I realize my first aid kit is in there, but decide that's not worth the risk of falling, so I decide to leave it.
I make my way out of the rock slide and I think I was pretty confused cuz I just started walking. Climbing over rocks, through prickly bushes and cactuses until I reach another dead end. I see a spot that would be a good place to be if I thought there would be a helicopter rescue coming. It's out in the open and I could probably signal the oasis where I want to be at night with my headlamp. It's pretty exposed and I'm hot and thirsty and exhausted so I find what looks like a man-made wall to hide behind.
I think I see petroglyphs, but that may have just been hallucinations. Dark thoughts start to enter my mind, but I try to fight them up. I sat there for awhile, closing my eyes occasionally and wait for my energy to come back up. I start running out of shade and walk around some more. I go to the place that I'd seen before because now it's got some shade from the big rock in the middle. It also has a cactus with some nice red plump fruit on it. Using a rock to shave off the spines, I squeeze out the delicious sweet meat of the fruit for a nice dinner. I try eating the leafy part, and realize that should have been dinner and the fruit should have been dessert. But it seems like it's helping fight off dehydration, so I'm not ungrateful. I find a flat place to lie down and hunker down for what I know will be a cold evening.
As soon as the sun sets, the temperature drops pretty quickly. With only my fleece, a long sleeve shirt and pants, it's very obvious it will be a long night. I try rubbing sticks together, but that just produces two smooth sticks and very little fire. I keep doing it though, to keep my muscles warm. I also turn my headlamp on, wave it around in hopes that someone below or above will see me. I also bang out SOS with some rocks, hoping someone will hear me in the dead of night. In between all of this, I lie down and close my eyes, thinking that might be it. But every time, I wake up shivering and repeat the cycle in some shape or form until the sun finally comes up...
Day 3:
With a night of "rest" behind me and the sun bringing a new day, I spot a cactus with more fruit on it. I'm beginning to fall in love with cacti. With a renewed/false sense of hope, I decide I'm just going to climb rocks. Go straight up until I can't do it anymore cuz it seems better than wandering around for a path that might not exist. So I climb and walk and walk and climb and run into a wall that's just a bit higher than my energy allows. So I find a shady spot, hunker down and let the dark thoughts work their way back in. I eat some green berry things which seem promising. A couple of dry heaves later and I'm back to lying there. I think I take a bit of a nap cuz when I open my eyes, I'm ready to go again.
I return to the climbing and walking routine for some amount of time. I have lost all concept of time at this point and the rest period are probably hours and the other parts are probably minutes. I realize I have no energy and look for somewhere to relax. I find a big rock casting a small shadow. As I make my way up, the ground starts to fall out from underneath me. I grab on to a bush and a rock and hold on for dear life as I claw with my feet to get up to safety. I guess I had more energy than I thought since I made my way up to safety. I sit there realizing just how close to the end I was. My mouth was a desert and my limbs were jelly. My face was numb and I was having trouble breathing. But I was in the shade, so I had that going for me.
In my dehydration induced desperation, I grab a plant next to me because it looked like it was storing water just for me. It had thorns which I rubbed off on a rock and started chowing down. It had an odd waxy covering but there was some amount of moisture in it. So I grabbed the next leaf(? branch?) and as I was chowing down, I noticed the waxy covering was just flaking off. So before going to town on the next one, I scraped the waxy covering off after the thorns and worked out a pretty good system. I felt like a million bucks after finishing off the entire plant and went back to the climbing and walking routine for quite some time. While eating the plant, I recall my GRE tutor days when I had to go over this reading comprehension passage about creosote over and over again. It described a desert plant that had a waxy covering and was quite juicy. And something about how people used the covering for some purpose. I guess I'm not very good at reading comprehension. Anyways, I call the plant creosote and credit it for saving my life.
I get back into the climbing/walking routine and I thought I heard voices over the hill and scrambled up to find no one. But I kept hearing voices, so I kept moving and moving. Then I stopped, listened carefully, and the person's voice sounded shockingly familiar. I look in my pocket and realize my camera was on. Btw, the whole time, at each stop, I morbidly recorded what I thought would be my last words and I'd been chasing around my own voice. After this little rush of excitement, I kept on walking and came across something more morbid. I'm no Emily Deschanel, but they very well could have been human bones. Or donkey bones. Regardless, it's clearly a bad place to be and I got out of there pretty fast.
I turn another corner and see the top, I think. But in the way is a big patch of bushes and nothing which says it'll provide a comfortable night of "rest". I see that the sun is about to go down, so I find somewhere to call home for the night. I have nothing else to do, so I carve out a spot in the ground so that I'll have somewhere level and rock free to spend the night. There are little bits of hay-like plants who's tops look like a shepherd's crook so I scatter those across my impromptu bed and am very pleased with myself. When the sun goes down, I return to the light waving, SOS banging routine. I try rubbing sticks together, but they are scarce in my new home so that routine gets played out pretty quickly. Half-way through the night, I start digging a deeper bed to try and give myself a better shelter. Turns out, the dirt beneath me has been absorbing my body heat. So instead of light waving and SOS banging, I just lie there, wait for the cold to set in, dig and repeat.
Day 4:
By the time morning comes, I realize I've dug myself a shallow grave. When this thought hits my mind, I fill it in and start walking. I find another creosote bush and devour that, though this one isn't nearly as tasty. I find a cactus with a fruit, but it was different from my prior encounters. Whereas my previous meals came from cacti with flat leaves and round fruits (of the devil), this one had round "leaves" and round fruit. The fruit tasted like kiwi but wasn't as juicy or sweet. I managed to pry off one of the "leaves" and found the middle meaty part quite tasty. With this breakfast in my stomach, I focused on the top. One rock at a time. Each rock was one less rock standing between me and the people I love. That was the only thing keeping me going, just being able to see everyone that I loved one last time.
That and a Fanta. Oddly, the whole time, I craved a Fanta. I haven't had all that much Fanta down here. Maybe twice. But the thought of the orangey soda helped me go on. Then I found a plant with berries. They were sweet, not all that juicy but it was something. Still low on energy, I decided to go after a cactus with no fruit. The round "leaf" kind. This one made me dry heave. I got past it and kept climbing. And climbing. And climbing. And corn fields. Sweet beautiful farm land. No more rocks to climb up. No more cacti to crawl over. Nothing between me and civilization.
Epliogue:
The first thing someone says to me that I can understand: "Sorry, I thought you were a local. What happened to your face, man?" This was from a fellow hiker named Giovanni who was going to Llahuar, the place I was sort of on my way to. I told him not to and what to avoid if he intended to. I hope Giovanni's not stranded right now.
A nice lady in brightly colored indigenous garb led me to a store to buy water. I ran out of energy and plopped myself down in front. A crowd gathered and one of the gentlemen went to get the police. I recounted my story in broken Spanish and tried to answer their questions. Some French passersby aided the translation and everyone seemed in awe of my luck/bravery/stupidity.
The police came and helped me into their truck. We stopped at a cafe where a local named Carlos helped translate the details for them. The police then dropped me off at a medical clinic where they put 4 stitches in my knee and 3 in my head and gave me some pills to fight off infection. I got a hotel room and some new clothes. Spent a long time in the shower and spent a long time sleeping. Ate some alpaca and called it a day.
The next morning, I got a bus ticket back to Arequipa and ate breakfast at Carlos' cafe. He told me that he was talking to one of his friends who saw a light in the middle of nowhere on Monday night and thought it was a thief. I could do nothing but laugh.
So ends the story. I'm in Arequipa now at the Hostal Yunta Wasi where Pichin, the owner/propietor, is super nice. He went with me to the hospital today where a doctor looked at some of my brain pictures and said everything was fine. There's no fractures in my skull and my brain seems to be no more messed up than normal.
I was completely wrong in my last post when I thought I was too old for this trip to change my life. Just like they say at the end of those shows, being so close to death makes you look at life in a whole new way. It completely re-orders your priorities and what you thought was important before now looks trivial. I'm just happy to be alive.
Day 1:
So I woke up around 4:30 in the AM to catch a bus from Arequipa to Colca Canyon.
View Larger Map
While waiting for the bus to start loading, I notice that there's this fellow with baggage that looks like everyone else's. It has this checkered cloth wrapped around a box. There's a stick poking out of one end then I realize that there's an animal's head poking out of the other. It's a baby goat making all the goat noises and everything. I start wondering to see if it goes underneath the bus with all the other baggage or if he brings it on the bus with him.
I get on my bus and notice the guy is standing next to my bus. I see him load the goat with all the other luggage and then he stood there and waited for the bus to leave. Fast forward to noon and I see the guy get his box-goat with everyone else's luggage and can only wonder if the box is shit and/or piss proof and am very glad that my bag was on the other side of the bus.
I re-organize some things in my pack and a fellow approaches me with a map and an ad for a hostel. I ask him for directions and he points me past a bullfighting ring and a soccer field. It looks about right so I follow his directions. I find both and then after the soccer field, I see a path leading to the right. I follow it and take in all of the scenery. I don't doubt that it's deeper than the Grand Canyon, but the walls aren't as steep so it's not as dramatic. Regardless, it's amazingly beautiful with the river and the mountains and the snow-capped volcanoes in the background. I keep walking and then find myself on a rock. I look down and realize that it's the end of a trail. I look to my left and see a trail and a town. I refer to my map and realize that the fellow was pointing me towards Llahuar, which isn't where I wanted to end up. I look to my right and realize that's where I want to be. I see the big trail that I'm supposed to be on to end up in Sangalle, where I wanted to go. I look down and see a trail that could get me to the big trail I want to be on.
So I back track, keeping an eye on the promising trail and find a rock and small trail that seems to get me over to the promising trail. It's all going fine, just taking in the view. I keep going lower and getting closer to the big trail. The weather's quite beautiful, sunny, barely a cloud in the sky. A little warm, but it's just a great place to be hiking. Then I find the trail leads to the edge of a cliff. So I backtrack, take another trail that leads me lower and to another cliff. This happens a couple more times and then I realize I might be lost. I'd seen donkey crap all over the place so assumed this was a people trail where people brought their pack mules and what not. The sun was going down so I just put out my sleeping pad, got in my sleeping bag and went to sleep. It was a beautiful night. It was clear and the stars were out and just the sound of the river far below. It was a little cold, but nothing out of the ordinary for a camping trip.
Day 2:
I wake up and watch the sun rise over the mountains and am ready to start the day. I make up my mind that I'm not really gonna make it to where I want to be so I start heading back up. After about two hours, I realize I'm completely lost. It all starts to look the same, vertical walls between me and where I want to be. So I just keep going until I can find a more accessible route to higher ground. I hear the familiar hee-hawing of donkeys and think that it's a group with a guide and everything, but I just come across two wild donkeys. They're staring at me like I'm an idiot and clearly not where I'm supposed to be. And then I realize how utterly lost I am.
I keep walking but can't find an easy way up. I don't see one and there's a narrow ledge between me and the next "real" trail. So I cross it, grabbing on to rocks and branches and roots when I feel the ground beneath my feet give way. I see my hat fly off. Then my glasses. Feel a bump or two on my head. Sky. Rocks. Sky. Rocks.
So I'm sitting there in a daze in a rock slide, maybe 50 feet from the edge? I can't really tell. I look down and there's some dried blood on my shirt mixed in with some fresh drops and I realize I'm still bleeding from my head. I grab a shirt from my bag and slap it on my head to help slow the blood loss. I grab my water and finish it off. When I reclose the bag, it slides down closer to the edge. I decide there's nothing of major importance in there, just clothes, sleeping bag, sleeping pad and a tent. I realize my first aid kit is in there, but decide that's not worth the risk of falling, so I decide to leave it.
I make my way out of the rock slide and I think I was pretty confused cuz I just started walking. Climbing over rocks, through prickly bushes and cactuses until I reach another dead end. I see a spot that would be a good place to be if I thought there would be a helicopter rescue coming. It's out in the open and I could probably signal the oasis where I want to be at night with my headlamp. It's pretty exposed and I'm hot and thirsty and exhausted so I find what looks like a man-made wall to hide behind.
I think I see petroglyphs, but that may have just been hallucinations. Dark thoughts start to enter my mind, but I try to fight them up. I sat there for awhile, closing my eyes occasionally and wait for my energy to come back up. I start running out of shade and walk around some more. I go to the place that I'd seen before because now it's got some shade from the big rock in the middle. It also has a cactus with some nice red plump fruit on it. Using a rock to shave off the spines, I squeeze out the delicious sweet meat of the fruit for a nice dinner. I try eating the leafy part, and realize that should have been dinner and the fruit should have been dessert. But it seems like it's helping fight off dehydration, so I'm not ungrateful. I find a flat place to lie down and hunker down for what I know will be a cold evening.
As soon as the sun sets, the temperature drops pretty quickly. With only my fleece, a long sleeve shirt and pants, it's very obvious it will be a long night. I try rubbing sticks together, but that just produces two smooth sticks and very little fire. I keep doing it though, to keep my muscles warm. I also turn my headlamp on, wave it around in hopes that someone below or above will see me. I also bang out SOS with some rocks, hoping someone will hear me in the dead of night. In between all of this, I lie down and close my eyes, thinking that might be it. But every time, I wake up shivering and repeat the cycle in some shape or form until the sun finally comes up...
Day 3:
With a night of "rest" behind me and the sun bringing a new day, I spot a cactus with more fruit on it. I'm beginning to fall in love with cacti. With a renewed/false sense of hope, I decide I'm just going to climb rocks. Go straight up until I can't do it anymore cuz it seems better than wandering around for a path that might not exist. So I climb and walk and walk and climb and run into a wall that's just a bit higher than my energy allows. So I find a shady spot, hunker down and let the dark thoughts work their way back in. I eat some green berry things which seem promising. A couple of dry heaves later and I'm back to lying there. I think I take a bit of a nap cuz when I open my eyes, I'm ready to go again.
I return to the climbing and walking routine for some amount of time. I have lost all concept of time at this point and the rest period are probably hours and the other parts are probably minutes. I realize I have no energy and look for somewhere to relax. I find a big rock casting a small shadow. As I make my way up, the ground starts to fall out from underneath me. I grab on to a bush and a rock and hold on for dear life as I claw with my feet to get up to safety. I guess I had more energy than I thought since I made my way up to safety. I sit there realizing just how close to the end I was. My mouth was a desert and my limbs were jelly. My face was numb and I was having trouble breathing. But I was in the shade, so I had that going for me.
In my dehydration induced desperation, I grab a plant next to me because it looked like it was storing water just for me. It had thorns which I rubbed off on a rock and started chowing down. It had an odd waxy covering but there was some amount of moisture in it. So I grabbed the next leaf(? branch?) and as I was chowing down, I noticed the waxy covering was just flaking off. So before going to town on the next one, I scraped the waxy covering off after the thorns and worked out a pretty good system. I felt like a million bucks after finishing off the entire plant and went back to the climbing and walking routine for quite some time. While eating the plant, I recall my GRE tutor days when I had to go over this reading comprehension passage about creosote over and over again. It described a desert plant that had a waxy covering and was quite juicy. And something about how people used the covering for some purpose. I guess I'm not very good at reading comprehension. Anyways, I call the plant creosote and credit it for saving my life.
I get back into the climbing/walking routine and I thought I heard voices over the hill and scrambled up to find no one. But I kept hearing voices, so I kept moving and moving. Then I stopped, listened carefully, and the person's voice sounded shockingly familiar. I look in my pocket and realize my camera was on. Btw, the whole time, at each stop, I morbidly recorded what I thought would be my last words and I'd been chasing around my own voice. After this little rush of excitement, I kept on walking and came across something more morbid. I'm no Emily Deschanel, but they very well could have been human bones. Or donkey bones. Regardless, it's clearly a bad place to be and I got out of there pretty fast.
I turn another corner and see the top, I think. But in the way is a big patch of bushes and nothing which says it'll provide a comfortable night of "rest". I see that the sun is about to go down, so I find somewhere to call home for the night. I have nothing else to do, so I carve out a spot in the ground so that I'll have somewhere level and rock free to spend the night. There are little bits of hay-like plants who's tops look like a shepherd's crook so I scatter those across my impromptu bed and am very pleased with myself. When the sun goes down, I return to the light waving, SOS banging routine. I try rubbing sticks together, but they are scarce in my new home so that routine gets played out pretty quickly. Half-way through the night, I start digging a deeper bed to try and give myself a better shelter. Turns out, the dirt beneath me has been absorbing my body heat. So instead of light waving and SOS banging, I just lie there, wait for the cold to set in, dig and repeat.
Day 4:
By the time morning comes, I realize I've dug myself a shallow grave. When this thought hits my mind, I fill it in and start walking. I find another creosote bush and devour that, though this one isn't nearly as tasty. I find a cactus with a fruit, but it was different from my prior encounters. Whereas my previous meals came from cacti with flat leaves and round fruits (of the devil), this one had round "leaves" and round fruit. The fruit tasted like kiwi but wasn't as juicy or sweet. I managed to pry off one of the "leaves" and found the middle meaty part quite tasty. With this breakfast in my stomach, I focused on the top. One rock at a time. Each rock was one less rock standing between me and the people I love. That was the only thing keeping me going, just being able to see everyone that I loved one last time.
That and a Fanta. Oddly, the whole time, I craved a Fanta. I haven't had all that much Fanta down here. Maybe twice. But the thought of the orangey soda helped me go on. Then I found a plant with berries. They were sweet, not all that juicy but it was something. Still low on energy, I decided to go after a cactus with no fruit. The round "leaf" kind. This one made me dry heave. I got past it and kept climbing. And climbing. And climbing. And corn fields. Sweet beautiful farm land. No more rocks to climb up. No more cacti to crawl over. Nothing between me and civilization.
Epliogue:
The first thing someone says to me that I can understand: "Sorry, I thought you were a local. What happened to your face, man?" This was from a fellow hiker named Giovanni who was going to Llahuar, the place I was sort of on my way to. I told him not to and what to avoid if he intended to. I hope Giovanni's not stranded right now.
A nice lady in brightly colored indigenous garb led me to a store to buy water. I ran out of energy and plopped myself down in front. A crowd gathered and one of the gentlemen went to get the police. I recounted my story in broken Spanish and tried to answer their questions. Some French passersby aided the translation and everyone seemed in awe of my luck/bravery/stupidity.
The police came and helped me into their truck. We stopped at a cafe where a local named Carlos helped translate the details for them. The police then dropped me off at a medical clinic where they put 4 stitches in my knee and 3 in my head and gave me some pills to fight off infection. I got a hotel room and some new clothes. Spent a long time in the shower and spent a long time sleeping. Ate some alpaca and called it a day.
The next morning, I got a bus ticket back to Arequipa and ate breakfast at Carlos' cafe. He told me that he was talking to one of his friends who saw a light in the middle of nowhere on Monday night and thought it was a thief. I could do nothing but laugh.
So ends the story. I'm in Arequipa now at the Hostal Yunta Wasi where Pichin, the owner/propietor, is super nice. He went with me to the hospital today where a doctor looked at some of my brain pictures and said everything was fine. There's no fractures in my skull and my brain seems to be no more messed up than normal.
I was completely wrong in my last post when I thought I was too old for this trip to change my life. Just like they say at the end of those shows, being so close to death makes you look at life in a whole new way. It completely re-orders your priorities and what you thought was important before now looks trivial. I'm just happy to be alive.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
To quote my 2-year old niece...
"I fell down! I'm okay!"
So... no pictures. Just a lot of words... before you start reading either version, just remember I'm okay. So don't freak out.
Short version:
- started hiking sunday and got lost
- fell off the side of a mountain on monday
- realized i'd been following wild donkey trails the whole time
- somehow made my way back to civilization
- got a few stitches, showered, rested
- need to reassess a few things
Long version:
to come after I eat some foods.
So... no pictures. Just a lot of words... before you start reading either version, just remember I'm okay. So don't freak out.
Short version:
- started hiking sunday and got lost
- fell off the side of a mountain on monday
- realized i'd been following wild donkey trails the whole time
- somehow made my way back to civilization
- got a few stitches, showered, rested
- need to reassess a few things
Long version:
to come after I eat some foods.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
One month down...
Well, it's been a month since I've left the country and it's been an interesting and amazing experience thus far. Here are a random collection of thoughts in a nice bulleted list:
- Empanadas are awesome.
- Spanish is hard to learn when everyone seems to speak English.
- Living out of a backpack just gives me an excuse to not shower.
- I might be too old for this to be a life-changing experience.
- But, my concept of a long bus-ride has been forever changed.
- Growing up Chinese-American means that food-wise, there's no culture shock.
- Wine in a bottle might be better than wine in a box. Maybe.
- Living in a hostel isn't all that different from college.
- Someone may have stolen my watch. Or I just left it somewhere. Either way, I've completely lost track of time.
- I need a haircut.
- Never plan on getting anything done in South America if it involves buying something on a Sunday.
- Not having a job is awesome.
- Not earning any money sucks.
- I have become completely dependent on the internet.
- Travelling is amazingly fun.
- Travelling is amazingly tiring.
- There are no beans in South America.
- Hannah Montana is apparently one of the more famous Americans right now.
- The soap in public bathrooms here is rare. When it does show up, it's just brilliant.
- Listening to stories about other people doing coke makes me realize that I'll never do it.
- I haven't stopped following sports. Not as closely, but I still check scores and standings occasionally.
- It's hard to not love soccer while living in South America. I'm very excited for the World Cup.
- Making blogs interesting is hard. Posting pictures is easy.
Turistas nunca sabe donde estuvo. Viajeros nunca sabe a donde van.
(Tourists never know where they've been. Travellers never know where they're going.)Not sure the first half is accurate, but the second definitely is. I'm off for 3 days to the Colca Canyon for some trekking to see the second deepest canyon in the world and also as a bit of a warm up for Macchu Picchu. I'll be out of touch until Tuesday, so see ya on the other side
Friday, April 30, 2010
Mendoza
Mendoza's famous for its wine. Since I preferred pretty much anything to wine back in the northern hemisphere, thought maybe it'd switch it up down here.
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Turns out wine isn't so bad if you have someone telling you what to look for in broken English. Absinthe might only make you see fairies if you're a bohemian writer, but it makes your chest burn regardless of who you are. You don't have to live in an apartment in New York to have a pet duck.
I met a fellow American on the bus from Mendoza to Cordoba by the name of Tracy and we went to look for a hostel. After the first one that I had scouted turned us away because of our shoddy apperance, we found one for 35 pesos a night. Dropping off our bags, we went in search of breakfast and a plan to get to the bodegas. Breakfast was good and we found flyers for bike rental places (the preferred method of wine tasting among backpackers without a refined palate) at the oficina de turismo, but not much help from the people there. They pointed us in the direction of a bus stop and on our way there, a fellow with a thick English accent told us which bus to take. It was a 40 minute bus ride, approximately, and around minute 38, a fellow with a scant knowledge of English, pointed at us and said, "bike rental. aca." He had a flyer in his hand which matched the one we got from the tourism office, so it seemed about right. A few minutes and 25 pesos later we were on the road.
That's me on the bike after the first winery. Which was really just a museum of old winery tools and a place to get a free glass of tinto (red wine). The wine tasted like wine and the tools were old. The tour was in very fast spanish so we went to the next stop, which was a place that made chocolates, olive oil and liqueurs. For 10 pesos, there was a tasting of all of them. They offered the liqueurs last, there were a variety of sweet ones, then they offered Absinthe. It was sort of a no-brainer, since I'd never had it before.
She took a spoon of sugar, dipped it in the absinthe, lit the absinthe-soaked sugar on fire, blew it out, put the sugar in and down the hatch it went. Didn't really get drunk or even buzzed, despite it being 75% alcohol, according to the label. But it did burn. And it didn't really stop for awhile. Hopping back on a bike while your chest is burning from absinthe is not the smartest thing to do. No ill-effects, just felt gross. The next few bodegas were closed since it was Saturday and we came across one which offered a glass of wine with some barbecue for 40 pesos. It wasn't that great and turned out to be overpriced and we commiserated about it with the Canadian couple next to us. At this point, I was ready to give up on wine all together since it had been so far unspectacular and the bike seats were making my butt hurt.
With our new Canadian friends, we made it to the Di Tomasso winery. They were friendly, the tour was informative and they had a big thing of bottles which looked really cool.
Our guide lady explained how aging wine in an oak barrel effects the flavor and then gave us examples of it. It was pretty clear. Then we bought a bottle of the better wine, shared it between the four of us, and then when there's no comparison all wine just tastes like wine.
Upon returning to the bike rental place, they gave us some more wine which I can only assume is to thank us for not stealing the bikes. There we met a couple from Belgium and a South African/Australian couple, had another free glass and made plans to have sushi for dinner. After the bus ride back and a shower, we had sushi. Sushi in a town which has a huge mountain range between itself and the nearest fish-bearing body of water is not good. Not terrible and I didn't get sick, so that was good.
The next day, Tracy opted to go to a nicer hostel and took off pretty early in the morning. Being Sunday, everything was closed except the main touristy area so I walked there. I met the Lauren and MJ, the Aussie and the South African and had some wine with them. While we were drinking, a fellow rode around with a platform on the front of his bike. Fairly commonplace, except for the duck sitting on the platform. The guy parked his bike and walked to a news stand. The duck followed him and waited for him to finish. The guy sat on the bench and the duck sat on the ground next to him. He walked to a lamp post near us and the duck walked towards it. Lauren, apparently an animal lover, called the duck over after talking with the guy, Lauren eventually ended up holding the duck. I'm pretty sure she got hepatitis from it.
After the wine and duck encounter, I had a hot dog. Took a nap and at dinner tried to order a rare steak. The waiter seemed to speak english, so I said "rare". He nodded and I said, "jugoso. muy poco hecho, si?" And he nodded. I assumed I'd be getting a nice big thick rare Argentine steak. To my dismay, it came out medium rare. Tasty, but medium rare.
The next day, I walked to the big park on the other side of the city and up a road and to the cerro de la gloria, or something
Walking back, I ran into Lauren and MJ and we had a bottle of wine. Since this was our last night in Mendoza, we decided to go to a wine bar at the top of a building with a wine bar. There was an amazing view of the city and we ordered one of the more expensive bottles of wine, which turned out to cost just a shade under 25 bucks. We finished the bottle as the sunset, it was a pretty nice end to the evening.
Then I had two hot dogs and a coke. Gotta keep it real.
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Turns out wine isn't so bad if you have someone telling you what to look for in broken English. Absinthe might only make you see fairies if you're a bohemian writer, but it makes your chest burn regardless of who you are. You don't have to live in an apartment in New York to have a pet duck.
I met a fellow American on the bus from Mendoza to Cordoba by the name of Tracy and we went to look for a hostel. After the first one that I had scouted turned us away because of our shoddy apperance, we found one for 35 pesos a night. Dropping off our bags, we went in search of breakfast and a plan to get to the bodegas. Breakfast was good and we found flyers for bike rental places (the preferred method of wine tasting among backpackers without a refined palate) at the oficina de turismo, but not much help from the people there. They pointed us in the direction of a bus stop and on our way there, a fellow with a thick English accent told us which bus to take. It was a 40 minute bus ride, approximately, and around minute 38, a fellow with a scant knowledge of English, pointed at us and said, "bike rental. aca." He had a flyer in his hand which matched the one we got from the tourism office, so it seemed about right. A few minutes and 25 pesos later we were on the road.
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| From Mendoza |
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| From Mendoza |
She took a spoon of sugar, dipped it in the absinthe, lit the absinthe-soaked sugar on fire, blew it out, put the sugar in and down the hatch it went. Didn't really get drunk or even buzzed, despite it being 75% alcohol, according to the label. But it did burn. And it didn't really stop for awhile. Hopping back on a bike while your chest is burning from absinthe is not the smartest thing to do. No ill-effects, just felt gross. The next few bodegas were closed since it was Saturday and we came across one which offered a glass of wine with some barbecue for 40 pesos. It wasn't that great and turned out to be overpriced and we commiserated about it with the Canadian couple next to us. At this point, I was ready to give up on wine all together since it had been so far unspectacular and the bike seats were making my butt hurt.
With our new Canadian friends, we made it to the Di Tomasso winery. They were friendly, the tour was informative and they had a big thing of bottles which looked really cool.
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| From Mendoza |
Upon returning to the bike rental place, they gave us some more wine which I can only assume is to thank us for not stealing the bikes. There we met a couple from Belgium and a South African/Australian couple, had another free glass and made plans to have sushi for dinner. After the bus ride back and a shower, we had sushi. Sushi in a town which has a huge mountain range between itself and the nearest fish-bearing body of water is not good. Not terrible and I didn't get sick, so that was good.
The next day, Tracy opted to go to a nicer hostel and took off pretty early in the morning. Being Sunday, everything was closed except the main touristy area so I walked there. I met the Lauren and MJ, the Aussie and the South African and had some wine with them. While we were drinking, a fellow rode around with a platform on the front of his bike. Fairly commonplace, except for the duck sitting on the platform. The guy parked his bike and walked to a news stand. The duck followed him and waited for him to finish. The guy sat on the bench and the duck sat on the ground next to him. He walked to a lamp post near us and the duck walked towards it. Lauren, apparently an animal lover, called the duck over after talking with the guy, Lauren eventually ended up holding the duck. I'm pretty sure she got hepatitis from it.
After the wine and duck encounter, I had a hot dog. Took a nap and at dinner tried to order a rare steak. The waiter seemed to speak english, so I said "rare". He nodded and I said, "jugoso. muy poco hecho, si?" And he nodded. I assumed I'd be getting a nice big thick rare Argentine steak. To my dismay, it came out medium rare. Tasty, but medium rare.
The next day, I walked to the big park on the other side of the city and up a road and to the cerro de la gloria, or something
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| From Mendoza |
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| From Mendoza |
Saturday, April 24, 2010
No Internet - Slow Internet
Quick post. Was in Mendoza. Went to Valle de la Luna and Talampaya. No internet there. Spent just over a day on a bus or in a bus terminal. In Tilcara now. Internet is like the pace of life here. Slow. Based on the few hours I´ve been here, it´s very nice. I´ll post more when I get to better internet connections.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Cordoba
Cordoba is the second largest city in Argentina. I realized that it's quite likely that you don't know where most of these places are, so I'm gonna start putting links to locations in my posts. If that gets annoying, say so and I'll stop doing it.
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Argentines know about Hannah Montana. I'm not a city guy. Sometimes Argentine spaghetti sauce is brown. Smoking and jogging go together like a fried egg and a hamburger.
So I arrived from Posadas after a 17 or so hour bus ride in a non-reclining chair next to a large argentine woman into the bus station in Cordoba. Upon descending from the bus, I realized I had done little to no research about the city and more importantly, where to stay. I had a vague idea of where a hostel might be and after about half an hour of walking around in circles, I found Che Salguero. Great hostel. The guys were cool and the place was nice. Second favorite hostel so far, probably, behind the one in Posadas.
After dropping off my bags and doing a quick internet check of the area, I walked towards the main area and came across the Iglesia Catedral.
It was pretty impressive, but since I don't particularly enjoy going into buildings where pedophilia is cool, I decided not to pay the entrance fee and just admired the architecture from the outside. There was also the Manzana Jesuitica nearby, which is a UNESCO world heritage site. Which is just a block of Jesuit buildings and also had pretty sweet architecture. Unfortunately, it's surrounded by narrow crowded streets and there weren't too many places to take a good picture. It's a common theme in Cordoba. Beautiful architecture, but hard to find a place to capture the beauty. They describe it as a mix of new and old in guidebooks and it's really very accurate.
Inside the Manzana Jesuitica, there seemed to be a fully functional university. Which was a little confusing, since I thought this place was supposed to be preserved for tourists to walk around and take pictures of. One awesome side effect of this was a sweet tile periodic table.
After rambling about more around the city, I returned to the hostel. Sitting there, I overheard a conversation between an argentine guy and an american girl. They were switching between Spanish and English so I understood most of it. But then when the conversation hit a lull, he said, "Hannah Montana". The conversation was then taken over by where she was from, etc. And throughout the rest of my time in Cordoba, Hannah Montana was a subject of conversation. This is what people know of about America. Could be worse.
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Argentines know about Hannah Montana. I'm not a city guy. Sometimes Argentine spaghetti sauce is brown. Smoking and jogging go together like a fried egg and a hamburger.
So I arrived from Posadas after a 17 or so hour bus ride in a non-reclining chair next to a large argentine woman into the bus station in Cordoba. Upon descending from the bus, I realized I had done little to no research about the city and more importantly, where to stay. I had a vague idea of where a hostel might be and after about half an hour of walking around in circles, I found Che Salguero. Great hostel. The guys were cool and the place was nice. Second favorite hostel so far, probably, behind the one in Posadas.
After dropping off my bags and doing a quick internet check of the area, I walked towards the main area and came across the Iglesia Catedral.
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| From Cordoba |
Inside the Manzana Jesuitica, there seemed to be a fully functional university. Which was a little confusing, since I thought this place was supposed to be preserved for tourists to walk around and take pictures of. One awesome side effect of this was a sweet tile periodic table.
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| From Cordoba |
Anyways, I decided to make dinner. I bought some sausage (chorizo), some spaghetti sauce which I translated to be with garlic and onions and some spaghetti. Upon opening, the sauce was brown and very salty. Combined with the chorizo, it was most likely the worst spaghetti ever made. But it was food, so I ate it.
The next day, I bought a bus ticket to Mendoza, then walked around the city more. I got a little lost, sat down in a park and realized I had no more interest in seeing big cities. Or at least not for a while. While I was sitting on the bench, a jogger stopped, stretched, pulled out a pack of smokes, lit up, took a few puffs and continued running. Argentina.
There's also another pic of a cool building on my camera, as well as others from Mendoza, where I currently am. When I get around to downloading those pics, I'll put 'em on the appropriate site and update you on Mendoza.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
South American Route
Combination of where I've been (BA-> Cordoba, A->D) and where I'm going (Mendoza-> La Paz, E->G). Of course, where I'm going is still up in the air!
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Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Iguazu and Posadas
Here are the most recent posts about what I've been upto and what I've seen over the last few days:
A lazy post about Iguazu Falls.
A more detailed post about the falls.
Somethin about the border of Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil.
Posadas and the ruins of the Jesuit Missions.
Up next, a 17 hour bus ride to Cordoba, most likely followed by a trip over to Mendoza.
Oh yeah, emo hair has made its way onto the heads of school children in Posadas. That and mullets.
A lazy post about Iguazu Falls.
A more detailed post about the falls.
Somethin about the border of Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil.
Posadas and the ruins of the Jesuit Missions.
Up next, a 17 hour bus ride to Cordoba, most likely followed by a trip over to Mendoza.
Oh yeah, emo hair has made its way onto the heads of school children in Posadas. That and mullets.
Posadas y los Ruinas Jesuiticas
I walked into the bus terminal and went with the first place that would take me to Posadas because I heard it was 45 pesos regardless of the company. So I hopped on the bus and it wasn't exactly luxurious. And by that, I mean it was a dump. Not that bad, but it wasn't a bus that catered to tourists. It was only 5.5 hours, and I slept the whole way so no big deal.
From the bus terminal, I hopped on a local bus to the hostel in Posadas. Hostel Vuela el Pez. It's the first hostel that I've stayed at with some character. The reception desk is just a dude lyin in a couch. Walking in, you see a nice courtyard with a little clean pool and some hammocks hanging around. The whole place is pretty clean and it's pretty much what I pictured when I imagined hostel living, as compared to the other backpacker havens teeming with Europeans where I'd been staying. I walked around the waterfront (Posadas is on the Rio Parana), found a pizzeria, had an empanada and a pizza. Later at the Hostel, I met a guy who I'd seen in Iguazu. We were both here to see the Jesuit ruins and agreed to go to them together the next morning.
A little history about the ruins: In the early 1600's, I guess the Jesuits came over and set up these missions to evangelize the local Guarani people. To do so, they built around 30 or so missions all around the area and helped the Guarani come out of the forest and taught them how to farm and what not so they'd stop eating each other. But Brazil and Argentina and kings and queens and other royalty apparently preferred that the Guarani eat each other because then they'd be easier to enslave and kicked the Jesuits out of the country. After the Jesuits left, the Guarani took off and the ruins were left to rot and I think they may have been destroyed. And then rebuilt in the 1900's. I may have missed some facts here and there, but that's the gist of it. Anyways, they're a UNESCO world heritage site, so it seemed worth checkin out.
There were three that we wanted to go to, San Ignacio, Loreto and Santa Ana. San Ignacio was the furthest away so we went to that first. After an 8 peso, 1-hour bus ride and a 15 minute walk, we got into San Ignacio and we see this:
Walking around, you see more ruins. It's pretty impressive. Fun fact: the buildings were originally white, but because of the deep red soil that covers the entire area, they stones have been turned red. At least that's what my dutch travel partner, Ado, told me. We hop on a bus to Loreto, but not before Ado runs out into the street and almost gets hit by a truck. Hopping off the bus, we start the 3km walk to the ruins. It was hot. And there was no shade. A guide meets us and tells us stories about the ruins, etc. But the ruins themselves aren't all that much to look at. Without the guide, it would have been pretty frustrating to have walked all that way for this:
After waiting on the side of the road for half an hour, a bus finally stops for us and we take it to the next stop. We walk 1-1.5km to the Santa Ana ruins and the guide there speaks no English. So we decide not to take her up on her offer of a guided tour because neither of us could really understand her, though Ado's spanish is much better than mine. There were several workers doin their thing and scaffolding around some of the ruins as they work to restore the ruins. It made me realize that the San Ignacio site looked just like the other two, but then they were recently made to look very pretty. Anyways, here's a pic of the Santa Ana site:
We luck out after the walk back to the main road and hop on a bus right away and get back to Posadas. Tired and hungry, I scarf down a hamburguesa completa (hamburger with ham and cheese and fried egg) and sleep well.
From the bus terminal, I hopped on a local bus to the hostel in Posadas. Hostel Vuela el Pez. It's the first hostel that I've stayed at with some character. The reception desk is just a dude lyin in a couch. Walking in, you see a nice courtyard with a little clean pool and some hammocks hanging around. The whole place is pretty clean and it's pretty much what I pictured when I imagined hostel living, as compared to the other backpacker havens teeming with Europeans where I'd been staying. I walked around the waterfront (Posadas is on the Rio Parana), found a pizzeria, had an empanada and a pizza. Later at the Hostel, I met a guy who I'd seen in Iguazu. We were both here to see the Jesuit ruins and agreed to go to them together the next morning.
A little history about the ruins: In the early 1600's, I guess the Jesuits came over and set up these missions to evangelize the local Guarani people. To do so, they built around 30 or so missions all around the area and helped the Guarani come out of the forest and taught them how to farm and what not so they'd stop eating each other. But Brazil and Argentina and kings and queens and other royalty apparently preferred that the Guarani eat each other because then they'd be easier to enslave and kicked the Jesuits out of the country. After the Jesuits left, the Guarani took off and the ruins were left to rot and I think they may have been destroyed. And then rebuilt in the 1900's. I may have missed some facts here and there, but that's the gist of it. Anyways, they're a UNESCO world heritage site, so it seemed worth checkin out.
There were three that we wanted to go to, San Ignacio, Loreto and Santa Ana. San Ignacio was the furthest away so we went to that first. After an 8 peso, 1-hour bus ride and a 15 minute walk, we got into San Ignacio and we see this:
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| From Tres Fronteras and Jesuit Missions |
Walking around, you see more ruins. It's pretty impressive. Fun fact: the buildings were originally white, but because of the deep red soil that covers the entire area, they stones have been turned red. At least that's what my dutch travel partner, Ado, told me. We hop on a bus to Loreto, but not before Ado runs out into the street and almost gets hit by a truck. Hopping off the bus, we start the 3km walk to the ruins. It was hot. And there was no shade. A guide meets us and tells us stories about the ruins, etc. But the ruins themselves aren't all that much to look at. Without the guide, it would have been pretty frustrating to have walked all that way for this:
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| From Tres Fronteras and Jesuit Missions |
After waiting on the side of the road for half an hour, a bus finally stops for us and we take it to the next stop. We walk 1-1.5km to the Santa Ana ruins and the guide there speaks no English. So we decide not to take her up on her offer of a guided tour because neither of us could really understand her, though Ado's spanish is much better than mine. There were several workers doin their thing and scaffolding around some of the ruins as they work to restore the ruins. It made me realize that the San Ignacio site looked just like the other two, but then they were recently made to look very pretty. Anyways, here's a pic of the Santa Ana site:
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| From Tres Fronteras and Jesuit Missions |
We luck out after the walk back to the main road and hop on a bus right away and get back to Posadas. Tired and hungry, I scarf down a hamburguesa completa (hamburger with ham and cheese and fried egg) and sleep well.
Tres Fronteras
Tres Fronteras is just a few km away from the center of Puerto Iguazu, but because I couldn't find any road signs, I got lost. Along the way, I managed to find where all the youths of Puerto Iguazu hang out around sunset. I took the back way to the Hito Argentina and along the way, found teenagers just hangin out around their cars blaring techno/party music out of huge speakers in the back of their hatchbacks. Further up the hill there were two guys standing next to a Honda Civic playing Lady Gaga through their possibly factory car stereo. It was sad for them. At the top of the hill, I found a tour bus. And with the tour bus, naturally, a bunch of tourists. I couldn't really get a clear view of the obelisk, but here's the best I could do:
In the foreground is Argentina. The piece of land on the right is Brazil. The piece of land on the left is Paraguay. Way in the back is Ciudad de Este in Paraguay, I think. On Picasa, you can see the corresponding obelisks for the other two countries. Nothing amazing, but just cool to see because as an American it's as close as you're gonna get to those two countries without paying the reciprocity visa fees.
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| From Tres Fronteras and Jesuit Missions |
Looking out upon the horizon, you see this:
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| From Tres Fronteras and Jesuit Missions |
I got a bit lost again on the way back to the hostel but ended up there eventually. In retrospect, I probably should have taken the bus for the most pleasant experience, but it was fun getting lost in this little city. And it was not at all dangerous, so not a big deal. When I got back, a recent Cal graduate approached me because I've been representin' my alma mater the whole trip. He had a few beers by the time I went over to join him and he was your typical obnoxious, loud, drunk American. But I can't really blame him because he's still young, and more importantly, his school sucks.
I spent the night in Puerto Iguazu and the next day went via bus to Posadas.
Iguazu Falls (detail)
It was mostly awe that limited the length of the last post. Well, that and an extreme bout of laziness. But a place as amazing as Iguazu Falls really does require a lengthier post.
Lessons learned: Argentinians love Antonio Banderas. 7up here tastes like Froot Loops. Butterflies feel just like any other insect when they land on you. Water is amazing. I have very little in common with recent college graduates.
So I got on a bus at 3:00pm on Friday with a friend from the Spanish class, Tish. I fell asleep as soon as they started playing some Antonio Banderas movie with Morgan Freeman. When I awoke a few hours later, they were playing some Antonio Banderas movie with Rebecca Romijn Stamos. Then they put on Couples Retreat in espanol. Somewhere in there we got a snack of croissants and a dinner of meat and potatoes and something. With dinner, they served 7up. After much deliberation, Tish finally spotted the flavor of 7up as Froot Loops. I fell asleep pretty quickly and when I awoke, we were about 2 or 3 hours away from Puerto Iguazu. Tish later told me that there were cockroaches on the bus and her seat didn't recline.
We chose a hostel right across from the Bus Terminal, the MarcoPolo Inn, mostly for it's convenience, checked in and made it to the falls as soon as possible. After paying the AR$85 entrance fee, we took the quaint little train to el Garganta del Diablo. The whole ride, you see tons and tons of butterflies just flitting about. We were starving and I had the worst empanadas ever at the fast food place at the end of the train station. This is when I almost killed a butterfly because I thought it was a mosquito or something. After this near death encounter with a mariposa, we made our way to the walkway out to the Devil's Throat. It was a nice path over the Rio Iguazu, and the weather was just gorgeous. After maybe 5-10 minutes, you see this:
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| From Iguazu Falls |
And you start to get really excited. Then you walked further and the sound of rushing water gets louder and louder. The mist from the falls starts to soak you and then you see it. You turn your head and see more. And then you turn your head and see more. You walk to a different side of the platform and you see more. There's really no way I can do it justice. Even the pictures are insufficient. The videos come close. But really, it's just an amazing experience.
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| From Iguazu Falls |
We decided to buy the Passporte Verde, which included a canoe ride back down the river to one of the stations instead of taking the train back, a jungle tour on a truck and a speedboat ride that takes you ridiculously close to the falls. The canoe ride was peaceful and we saw a little baby caiman, it looked like a big lizard. The jungle cruise was nice and we saw a toucan and a bunch of huge spiders. The speedboat ride was amazing. You get close to the other part of the falls, then the devil's throat, but you don't get wet. It's mostly just to take pictures. Then they tell you to put your stuff in dry bags. Since my camera's waterproof, it stayed out. There's video of the dousing that we got. It was exhilirating. On the walk out of the park, we saw more coatis and some capuchin monkeys.
The next morning, I looked at my pictures, realized the town didn't really have much else to offer so I went back to the park. As long as you get your ticket stamped when you leave the first day, the second day only costs AR$45. I took my time and the weather was even better. I found some better/different viewpoints. The mist from at el Garganta del Diablo wasn't as overwhelming so I think I got some better pics. And it was just amazing to soak it all in.
After leaving the park I went to Tres Fronteras, the confluence of some rivers and the border between Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay.
The next morning, I looked at my pictures, realized the town didn't really have much else to offer so I went back to the park. As long as you get your ticket stamped when you leave the first day, the second day only costs AR$45. I took my time and the weather was even better. I found some better/different viewpoints. The mist from at el Garganta del Diablo wasn't as overwhelming so I think I got some better pics. And it was just amazing to soak it all in.
After leaving the park I went to Tres Fronteras, the confluence of some rivers and the border between Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
More Buenos Aires
Argentines really love soccer and show it. Players in the Argentine league love to shoot. My expectations for Argentine steak may have been set too high. If you order something randomly here, you'll get something with meat in it. And Argentines love hot dogs. Hot dog stands are like Starbuck's in Seattle.
Warning: Long post. I may edit it to make it shorter and more interesting. But probably not. At least I figured out how to break up the monotony with pictures!
Sunday I went to a futbol match, Boca Juniors v. Rosario Central. I paid 250 pesos, which seems to be the going rate for tourists to go to a game. It's probably much cheaper (~25 pesos?) to get a ticket without all the niceties. But there were enough warnings about not doing it on your own for fear of getting shot and drawn and quartered for me to avoid that route. For my 250 pesos, I was promised a ticket, transfer to the match a t-shirt raffle and a tour of the caminito district. So the guy picked a bunch of us up in a van from our hostel and a few other groups from other hotels close to us. Eugenio, our guide, gave us a little paper telling us what to expect. On the English side of the piece of paper, it said, "Do not root for any team other than Boca. It is a matter of life and death". We had a nice chuckle about that.
We stopped at the caminito district which is apparently famous for having a picture on a postcard taken there. That postcard was reproduced in spades on various items in the area. I've also since noticed it elsewhere around BA. Here's the first thing we saw when we got there.
I thought we'd get to walk around, but Eugenio raced ahead and we tried to keep up with him while also taking in all the brightly colored buildings and the tango shows in the cafes. Then we finally stopped at this one restaurant with a courtyard. He explained something, but I was in the back so didn't hear. By the time I passed him, he seemed to be tired of speaking English, and said, "just follow the others". So I didn't really know what I was doing. Apparently, no one else did either. Anyways, after an hour or so, we finally made our way to the game. When we made it to the stadium, it was empty and Boca was already playing Rosario. Eugenio wasn't really around, so we finally figured out that it was the reserves.
When the real players came on the field, the place ERUPTED. Drums, cheering, singing, dancing. It was amazing. For you Sounders fans out there, imagine that one section with all the flags and the dancing. Multiply their intensity by 10 and then fill all of Qwest with them. Their passion was infectious and before long I was clapping and cheering and groaning. Not quite singing though, because mi espanol is terrible. Anyways, Boca seemed to be outmatched during the whole game, but finally blew it in the 80th minute or so when the goalie inexplicably went out to get a ball while the box was just full of people. The ball got headed over to a Rosario forward and that's all she wrote. This is towards the end of the game:
Warning: Long post. I may edit it to make it shorter and more interesting. But probably not. At least I figured out how to break up the monotony with pictures!
Sunday I went to a futbol match, Boca Juniors v. Rosario Central. I paid 250 pesos, which seems to be the going rate for tourists to go to a game. It's probably much cheaper (~25 pesos?) to get a ticket without all the niceties. But there were enough warnings about not doing it on your own for fear of getting shot and drawn and quartered for me to avoid that route. For my 250 pesos, I was promised a ticket, transfer to the match a t-shirt raffle and a tour of the caminito district. So the guy picked a bunch of us up in a van from our hostel and a few other groups from other hotels close to us. Eugenio, our guide, gave us a little paper telling us what to expect. On the English side of the piece of paper, it said, "Do not root for any team other than Boca. It is a matter of life and death". We had a nice chuckle about that.
We stopped at the caminito district which is apparently famous for having a picture on a postcard taken there. That postcard was reproduced in spades on various items in the area. I've also since noticed it elsewhere around BA. Here's the first thing we saw when we got there.
 |
| From Buenos Aires |
I thought we'd get to walk around, but Eugenio raced ahead and we tried to keep up with him while also taking in all the brightly colored buildings and the tango shows in the cafes. Then we finally stopped at this one restaurant with a courtyard. He explained something, but I was in the back so didn't hear. By the time I passed him, he seemed to be tired of speaking English, and said, "just follow the others". So I didn't really know what I was doing. Apparently, no one else did either. Anyways, after an hour or so, we finally made our way to the game. When we made it to the stadium, it was empty and Boca was already playing Rosario. Eugenio wasn't really around, so we finally figured out that it was the reserves.
When the real players came on the field, the place ERUPTED. Drums, cheering, singing, dancing. It was amazing. For you Sounders fans out there, imagine that one section with all the flags and the dancing. Multiply their intensity by 10 and then fill all of Qwest with them. Their passion was infectious and before long I was clapping and cheering and groaning. Not quite singing though, because mi espanol is terrible. Anyways, Boca seemed to be outmatched during the whole game, but finally blew it in the 80th minute or so when the goalie inexplicably went out to get a ball while the box was just full of people. The ball got headed over to a Rosario forward and that's all she wrote. This is towards the end of the game:
 |
| From Buenos Aires |
After the game, as we knew from Eugenio's piece of paper, that being in GA, we would probably get in a fight with the visiting Rosario fans, so had to wait for half an hour before we could leave. And I can see why. We were sitting under the Rosario section and as they descended, they were cheering and shouting things at us. People in our section shouted back. There was clearly no love lost.
Monday, I started class, and having had 4 days of spanish with Expanish, I can officially recommend against it for travelers. I stupidly assumed that the class would be geared towards travelers, since the website was. It was a Spanish class like in a school. I learned how to conjugate tener ("to have") and how to ask what someone's job is, but had to learn on my own things like, "can you help me?" and what different foods are. But I met some people so that was fun. Went to San Telmo for some steak. Ordered it rare, even in English cuz the waiter would have none of my terrible Spanish. And it came out between rare and medium-rare. Tasty and big and cheap, but I've had better. I'll wait to go to other cities before issuing a final verdict on steak though.
Took a Tango Class last night. It was fun, despite me being singled out as the lone American who hadn't tangoed before. An old guy named Manny, who I assume was frustrated with my complete lack of rhythm, came over and kept telling me to listen to the music. It was very cute. Old people dancing are cute. Taking another one tonight.
Side notes: The people who work at the hostel love 90's music. And they love to try to sing along to it despite not really knowing how to pronounce the words. The Rio de la Plata is dirty. People do their laundry there. Went to a stand on the side of the road. The items on the menu were hamburguesa and a bunch of other things i didn't understand. I picked the first one, "bondiola", and ordered it, completa. It ended up being a sandwich with some slices of beef (the bondiola part), and then ham and egg and cheese (the completa part). It was muy delicioso! Can't wait to order something else random from a dude on the side of the street.
Future notes: Goin to Iguazu falls tomorrow. 18 hour bus ride, woot woot! Mostly, I'm just excited to get out of the city. Away from the noise and the honking. Not sure about after that, maybe Puerto Madryn (loooong bus ride...). Maybe Cordoba.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Day Two - Buenos Aires
Lessons learned: Portenos (people that live in Buenos Aires), like Americans, like to run around in circles in grassy areas. But they also like to erect statues of dead people in grassy areas. And if you're a doctor you can get a big ass mausoleum erected in your honor. If you're an awesome general, you get an even bigger one with a sweet sword-wielding angel statue on top.
Since I was dead tired getting off the plane yesterday and forced myself to stay up until 7 or 8pm, I woke up around 7 or 8am. Feeling rested, I decided to start walking. I came across the running old people in the parks before it got hot and the youngins got out of bed. There were more parks and more statues/busts and the runners were replaced with bikers of the spandex wearing variety. I soon came across a giant metal flower which may have been put there to appease the gods of the UN. But it was in spanish, so I may be way off.
This surprise made me whip out a map and I realized I was next to the cementeria de la recoleta. Which means "the recoleta cemetery" literally, but in spirit, i'm pretty sure it means "cemetery of doctors and generals and other rich people". If I were more up to date on Argentine History, I'm sure I would have recognized more names. But the reason tourists go, I think, is because Eva Duarte de Peron shared a nickname with someone in a Broadway Musical and Madonna Movie. The whole place was hauntingly beautiful. Beautiful because rich people really made sure that their corpses rotted in style and haunting because every now and then you realize you're surrounded by corpses rotting in style. But it was definitely worth the price of admission (0 pesos, but I would have paid like 1 or 2). It was pretty sweet to see the contrasts between these old ass tombs built for rich people with modern billboards and seemingly run-down apartments in the background.
For lunch, I ordered a steak, but when it came time to ordering, I was all confused because the waitress asked me something in Spanish. Then she began to offer the same question in English, "Medium...?" "oh right, medium" and she walked away... before I realized that steak cooked medium, like warm beer and taking half a shit, is barely worth the effort. But I had no idea how to change the order and was going on 5 hours of walking around with only toast and jam and pomelo juice in my belly, so I choked it down. So not the best first experience with Argentine beef. For the foodies out there, the only thing I've realized is that empanadas carne are fucking awesome. 3-5 pesos ($1) for meat in a pastry. Done and done.
Side notes: I'm approximating that I've spent $136 so far when allocating airfare and other costs over the number of days they're used. This is well under the $100/day average I'm imagining. Oh, and my ATM card totally works! And I went to see if they had empanadas at the Golden Arches here. They don't. But they do have a "Triple Mac" (big mac with an extra patty on the bottom, but no extra layer of bun and sauciness) and a "McNifica" (looked like a McTasty?). Both very tempting to order, but I passed in favor of two slices of pizza and a faina. Still not sure what a faina is. But it was eggy.
Future side notes: I'm goin to a Boca Juniors football match tomorrow. If Buenos Aires is New York and Futbol is Football, I think Boca Juniors is the Jets. But they could be the Giants. Rio Plate is the other team here in BA. Oh, and I'll hopefully be able to order steak rare or medium rare after Monday when my Spanish class starts.
Anyways, there are pics on my picasa website. Google Blogger isn't quite linkin up to that site right now and I'm too tired to figure it out. So if you can navigate your way to my Picasa site, the new pics are like warm beer for your eyes.
Since I was dead tired getting off the plane yesterday and forced myself to stay up until 7 or 8pm, I woke up around 7 or 8am. Feeling rested, I decided to start walking. I came across the running old people in the parks before it got hot and the youngins got out of bed. There were more parks and more statues/busts and the runners were replaced with bikers of the spandex wearing variety. I soon came across a giant metal flower which may have been put there to appease the gods of the UN. But it was in spanish, so I may be way off.
This surprise made me whip out a map and I realized I was next to the cementeria de la recoleta. Which means "the recoleta cemetery" literally, but in spirit, i'm pretty sure it means "cemetery of doctors and generals and other rich people". If I were more up to date on Argentine History, I'm sure I would have recognized more names. But the reason tourists go, I think, is because Eva Duarte de Peron shared a nickname with someone in a Broadway Musical and Madonna Movie. The whole place was hauntingly beautiful. Beautiful because rich people really made sure that their corpses rotted in style and haunting because every now and then you realize you're surrounded by corpses rotting in style. But it was definitely worth the price of admission (0 pesos, but I would have paid like 1 or 2). It was pretty sweet to see the contrasts between these old ass tombs built for rich people with modern billboards and seemingly run-down apartments in the background.
For lunch, I ordered a steak, but when it came time to ordering, I was all confused because the waitress asked me something in Spanish. Then she began to offer the same question in English, "Medium...?" "oh right, medium" and she walked away... before I realized that steak cooked medium, like warm beer and taking half a shit, is barely worth the effort. But I had no idea how to change the order and was going on 5 hours of walking around with only toast and jam and pomelo juice in my belly, so I choked it down. So not the best first experience with Argentine beef. For the foodies out there, the only thing I've realized is that empanadas carne are fucking awesome. 3-5 pesos ($1) for meat in a pastry. Done and done.
Side notes: I'm approximating that I've spent $136 so far when allocating airfare and other costs over the number of days they're used. This is well under the $100/day average I'm imagining. Oh, and my ATM card totally works! And I went to see if they had empanadas at the Golden Arches here. They don't. But they do have a "Triple Mac" (big mac with an extra patty on the bottom, but no extra layer of bun and sauciness) and a "McNifica" (looked like a McTasty?). Both very tempting to order, but I passed in favor of two slices of pizza and a faina. Still not sure what a faina is. But it was eggy.
Future side notes: I'm goin to a Boca Juniors football match tomorrow. If Buenos Aires is New York and Futbol is Football, I think Boca Juniors is the Jets. But they could be the Giants. Rio Plate is the other team here in BA. Oh, and I'll hopefully be able to order steak rare or medium rare after Monday when my Spanish class starts.
Anyways, there are pics on my picasa website. Google Blogger isn't quite linkin up to that site right now and I'm too tired to figure it out. So if you can navigate your way to my Picasa site, the new pics are like warm beer for your eyes.
 |
| From Buenos Aires |
Friday, April 2, 2010
Esta aqui!
So iḿ in a hostel in Buenos Aires. Hostel Suites Palermo to be exact. Iḿ on a computer that cant quite put in apostrophes. So apologies for the poor grammar. So the flights went off with just a few hitches but I got here. Getting to Buenos Aires from the Pistarini Airport (EZE) was a bit more challenging, since all the guide books i read said that you could just take public bus 86 for around 50 cents. Well, I found the bus stop (for future cheapskate travelers, its to the left once you get outside. Just keep walking to the left and youll see the bus stop). The only thing was on the bus stop, only 8, 51 and 518 were listed. I thought maybe it was one of those things where it would come but it just wasnt listed.
So I just sat there for awhile, watched a bunch of buses go buy. Then I asked somebody. "Donde esta la ochenta y seis?¨ And then the guy mumbled something en espanol. But I heard "ocho" and then "ochenta y seis". So I said gracias, assuming that it'd get me downtown. And two hours later, it did!
I'm glad I took the bus because it took all these detours off the main freeway to BA into these little neighborhoods. And I learned two things: 1) people love to ride their bicycles in proper tour de france-type gear regardless of body type and 2) it's totally cool to pull your car off onto any piece of grass and start playing soccer.
And I saw some wild street dogs. And possibly one dead wild street dog. Not any exciting pictures. It's a pretty dreary day and i'm sort of too tired to do any site seeing right now.
So I just sat there for awhile, watched a bunch of buses go buy. Then I asked somebody. "Donde esta la ochenta y seis?¨ And then the guy mumbled something en espanol. But I heard "ocho" and then "ochenta y seis". So I said gracias, assuming that it'd get me downtown. And two hours later, it did!
I'm glad I took the bus because it took all these detours off the main freeway to BA into these little neighborhoods. And I learned two things: 1) people love to ride their bicycles in proper tour de france-type gear regardless of body type and 2) it's totally cool to pull your car off onto any piece of grass and start playing soccer.
And I saw some wild street dogs. And possibly one dead wild street dog. Not any exciting pictures. It's a pretty dreary day and i'm sort of too tired to do any site seeing right now.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Flights Booked...
Here's my Long-Awaited itinerary. It ended up costing me $4,137. It's lower than the $5,000 I wanted to pay, but it also doesn't get me to Tanzania and leaves me stranded in New Zealand (not the worst place to be stranded!). So if I go to Tanzania and actually decide to come back to the states, I'll probably be around $5,300 for airfare. At first, it seems high, but considering all the places I'll be going, I'm convinced the numbers will look pretty good in the end. Quick math. $5,300 for airfare. 300 or so days. under $18 per day... not a bad average. Not lookin too bad for the per day average...
On that note, I'm gonna be pretty detailed about expenditures, I hope. And will post occasional updates on money spent to keep me accountable so I stay conscious of costs...
Anyways, here it is...
San Francisco to Buenos Aires (4/1/2010-4/2/2010):
LAN AIRLINES LA 8267 Operated by American Airlines AA 1910
Depart San Francisco International 4/1/2010 9:30AM
Terminal 3
Arrive Los Angeles International 4/1/2010 11:00AM
Terminal 4
LAN AIRLINES LA 2605
Depart Los Angeles International 4/1/2010 1:50PM
Terminal B
Arrive Lima, Peru (J Chavez Intl) 4/2/2010 12:25AM
LAN AIRLINES LA 2427
Depart Lima, Peru (J Chavez Intl) 4/2/2010 1:25AM
Arrive Buenos Aires, Argentina 4/2/2010 7:45AM
(Pistarini Intl)
Buenos Aires to Johannesburg (6/16/2010-6/17/2010):
MALAYSIA AIRLINES MH 202
Depart Buenos Aires, Argentina 6/16/2010 8:20PM
(Pistarini Intl)
Arrive Cape Town, South Africa 6/17/2010 9:00AM
(Cape Town International)
SOUTH AFRICAN AIRWAYS SA 342
Depart Cape Town, South Africa 6/17/2010 12:20PM
(Cape Town International)
Arrive Johannesburg, South Africa 6/17/2010 2:20PM
(O.R. Tambo Intl Terminal B)
Johannesburg to Cairo (9/15/2010-9/16/2010):
EGYPTAIR MS 840
Depart Johannesburg, South Africa 9/15/2010 9:45PM
(O.R. Tambo Intl Terminal B)
Arrive Cairo, Egypt 9/16/2010 6:40AM
(Cairo Intl Terminal 3)
Cairo to Bangkok (10/7/2010-10/8/2010):
EGYPTAIR MS 960
Depart Cairo, Egypt 10/7/2010 10:10AM
(Cairo Intl Terminal 3)
Arrive Bangkok, Thailand 10/8/2010 12:20PM
(Suvarnabhumi Intl)
Singapore to Jakarta (11/21/2010):
JETSTAR JQ 115
Depart Singapore 11/21/2010 7:25PM
(Changi Intl Terminal 1)
Arrive Jakarta, Indonesia 11/21/2010 8:05PM
(Soekarno Hatta Terminal 2)
Bali to Darwin (12/13/2010-12/14/2010):
JETSTAR JQ 82
Depart Bali, Indonesia 12/13/2010 10:45PM
(Ngurah Rai Intl)
Arrive Darwin, Australia 12/14/2010 2:55AM
Melbourne to Christchurch (1/22/2011):
JETSTAR JQ 159
Depart Melbourne, Australia 1/22/2011 8:40AM
(Tullamarine Intl Terminal 2)
Arrive Christchurch, New Zealand 1/22/2011 2:00PM
(Terminal M)
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