Hello once more from La Paz, the world´s highest capital...like you care!
It´s been suggested by some that my blogs have been in the glass-half-empty category of writing. So with that in mind I will try to make my inane ramblings a little more positive. So here goes...
Half our group on our tour of Bolivia had diarrhoea, a few had to travel back to La Paz early to see an emergency doctor. The tour leader was about as useful as a chocolate tea pot and some of the places we stayed didn´t have running water. I could write an entire piece just on the quality of the toilets... I won´t though, you would think I was making it up.
So let´s start where I left off before. Travelling from beautiful Copacabana to La Paz (not quite so beautiful but interesting in its own way). We arrive at the hotel, very nice 3 star job, meet our two other companions an English girl called Charlotte who knows my dad and has met him, weird! And a Swiss girl who liked to order cheese cake at every given opportunity called Barbara.
So we take a flight the next day to Bolivia´s second city Sucre. Spanish colonial stuff etc. Met our hotpant-stringy-vest-wearing tour guide who is also called Barbara. Right away we´re thinking she´s not really putting out that air of ´´this girl knows what she´s doing´´ and she didn´t disappoint. We found out that she wasn´t technically able to work as a tour gude legally in Bolvia, nice one boys! I won´t bore you with how much this ´tour´cost but we debated over whether we really needed a tour here or not. As it turns out we didn´t. We spent 3 days in Sucre, our only source of information was the Lonely Planet. Did some horse riding to a nice waterfall where we all put ourselves in mortal danger by jumping off the top of it in to a slightly muddied pool. Our Spanish-speaking horse riding leader merely watched from the sides, chewing coca leaves, occasionally spitting them on to his horse.
So then we meet the rest of ´the group´all of whom are in the middle of a 45 day trip around South America. Mixed up of English, Danish, Australian and Northern Irish. All very nice but then our fuckwit of a tour leader gets involved and things rapidly descend in to...well fuckwitness.
We discover she has a penchant for going to the Spa, not telling anyone what the plan for the day is, whether the towns and citys we stay in are safe and a general feeling of ´fuck you guys it´s my holiday too.´ I had to pinch myself every so often and remind myself that she was not a petulant twelve year old, she was in fact our tour leader.
So we travel to Potasi (the worlds highest city) via these taxis. It takes 3 hours and here´s where I need to tell
THE STORY OF JUAN
Juan grew up in a small Bolivian village just on the outskirts of Sucre. He had strict parents who used to beat him with long sticks made of Llama dung. Juan harboured an ambition, he wanted more than anything to be a racing car driver. Everytime his head hit the pillow (also made of Llama dung) he dreamt of winning the Bolivian Grand Prix (well first he dreamt there was a Bolivian Grand Prix then he dreamt of winning it).
Juan tried as a kid to make it, borrowing his fathers donkey cart and attempting to do doughnuts in the back yard. But as Juan grew up he realised his dream could not come true. He spent years feeling down, his life meant nothing. Then one day as he was taking the donkey for spins when he saw a Toyota dealership. His mind raced, maybe just maybe he could do something about his dream. He bought himself a 90´s white Toyota Corolla. A thing of beauty, now he could finally realise his dream. With no qualifications or testing he immediately became a taxi driver ferrying unsuspecting tourists from Sucre to Potasi. Oh boy he loved seeing the incomprehensible terror on his passengers faces. That delicate smell that would emanate from the back seats as he overtook the fourteen wheeler on a blind corner with a thousand foot drop and no crash barriers.
Juan just loved the challenge of Bolivian roads. Everytime he set off he would say a little prayer thanking his God that the Bolivian government hadn´t discovered the heretical English words ´road resurfacing.´ He loved to chew coca leaves, spitting them out his window utterly unaware they would fly in to the face of the person sitting in the left back seat.
And his love, more than anything, was to get to Potasi before his other Taxi driver comrades. It was competitive and they made it difficult for him but Juan lwas a born risk-taker. He simply had to cross that finish line first, it didn´t matter how many Llama or Alpacas he would instantly turn in to dog food. Nor would he consider minor adjustments to his beloved vehicle like seat belts or workable brake pads. If God wanted him dead, he would have crashed already surely.
He could see the tourists sitting behind him trying to work out the Spanish for ´Slow the fuck down´ but he knew that even if they found the words in their Latin American Spanish Phrasebook the sheer terror would be too much for them to utter the words. Only mumbles and high pitched whimpers would be the only sound that would emanate from their stupid white mouths.
And so ends the Story of Juan. We must assume that he still drives with the same disregard for others and we salute his God for having the power to keep him alive in the face of such reckless abandon. Chao Juan!
So we arrive in Potasi looking for a toilet and a new bum. The Spanish discovered silver in Potasi and decided it would a spiffing idea to send hundreds of thousands of African slaves and local Bolivians down in to the mines to go get it for them. 8 million people died in these mines under some of the most atrocious conditions imaginable. So now they send tourists down there, each happy because they are allowed to buy a stick of, wait for it...DYNAMITE with them. Yes dynamite is a readily available commodity in Potasi. You can walk in to a store, buy a couple of sticks under the guise of ´I´m taking it to the miners as a present.´ HA, they are so gullible. So the tour leader (not Barbara, this one is competent) asks if we want to set a stick off (I remind you we are still talking about DYNAMITE...whilst down in the mine! I mean...do Llama attempt to kill themselves when they cross roads...fuck yeah! So we go in to the mines all singing ´´Hi Ho´´ our dynamite and matches at the ready and basically we are happy campers. See attached video for what actually happened when it when bang!
Once we´re finished blowing up parts of Potasi we get a bus to the worlds largest salt flat and the small town of Uyani which looks like some old fool was walking through the desert and thought ´´No water, utterly exposed to the elements, temperatures reaching -20. You know what, this is the perfect place for a town.´´
So we jump in some slightly dubious 4x4´s and drive up to the 12,000 square kilometer salt flat which is simply one of the most breathtaking sights I have ever seen. And because it was flooded, this being the rainy season, the blue sky was perfectly reflected in the water making you feel like you were on some other planet, strange.
Then we spend the next few days driving around the superlative-exhausting Reserva Nacional de Fauna Andina Eduardo Avaroa with some of the most stunning landscapes I´ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Truly it was like a safari for landscapes, with every turn of a corner we´d see a new canyon or snow-capped mountain. Bear in mind we are over 4000m above sea level at all times. Deserts, laguna, flamingos more Llamas. Lovely. There was a particularly stunning volcano and turquoise lake called Laguna Verde which I couldn´t help myself I had to take some video of, have a look.
What wasn´t lovely however was the places we were staying in. The bed on the first night was like being strapped to a silver birch tree trunk, the toilet smelled of...words can´t even describe what it smelled of. There were flies, dogs and babies crying in no particular order. The food was simple but as we found out later totally unfit for human consumption. We´ve used up most of our emergency supply of Imodium. On the plus side though I think I´m losing weight.
Second place we stayed in was worse than the first, don´t get me wrong I´m all for character building exercises but really, do I have to pee next to a pile of rotting rubbish which should have been the shower. Seriously guys...come on now, maybe start with the mantra ´let´s not make the tourists (our biggest source of income) sick to the point of emergency evacuation. I tell you, that night was like an orchestra of flatulence. I understood why they had no smoking signs all over the place. And to top it all off no running water, good effort chaps.
So with everyone feeling tickety boo and some of our gang speeding back to La Paz with critical stomach issues we hop in to the landcruiser and see some more rock formations. Then head back to Uyani and a night train. I won´t bore you with all the things that went wrong after that suffice to say it ended with one of our group in tears because our fuckwit tour leader was nasty to her. We had to all sit down and have it out with her. It was like Tour Group Therapy.
So we catch the night train back which was actually pretty decent and now we´re back in La Paz awaiting a flight to Buenos Aires which we should catch tomorrow. So Bolivia has been eventful and beautiful and stomach challenging. I sure won´t forget her in a hurry.
I just read this back, is it me or do these things get longer and longer. Must try the ancient art of subbing down my ramblings to something easy to read, with grammar people can actually decipher. Oh well, there´s always next time.
Chao!
Dan
Sunday, February 24, 2008
POO-HOLES AND PHOTOCOPIERS
Well hi there,
So after the long and somewhat laborious Inca Trail thing, seriously there's a train, why would you walk it?
So we leave the tourist empty Cuzco and jump on a bus to Arequipa, Peru's second biggest city, next to, wait for it, two active volcanoes. Nice. It's all white stone and not an unpleasant place to be for a few days. Wondered around a monastery or two, ate some local food which was fine. Although because we're totally stuck if we get to a restaurant and actually decide this isn't the place for us. By that time we've already sat down they've already started to wait on us. I kid you not, we went to three, yes three different restaurants. All of whom we sat down in and were given menu's. All of whom we decided weren't right and had to stand up in front of everyone else eating there and leave. I do love those uncomfortable, awkward moments.
Then we booked a little two day trip to the Colca Canyon which is supposedly twice the size of the Grand Canyon and whilst it was impressive I kept thinking to myself ''What's the difference between a canyon and a valley cos this sure looks like a valley.''
Anyway spotted some condors from miles away drifting on the currents and whilst I had to contend with some very loud Canadians on the bus there and back, it was all I could do from turning around and saying ''Why can't you say it quietly, she's sitting right next to you for Christ sake!''
So we jump on another bus to Puno, on Lake Titicaca which, frankly is a bit of a poo hole. It basically has one street where you get harassed by every restaurant, Internet cafe and local wanting to sell you something. We have a good deal on a hostel, only $20 a night, bargain, although the smell of raw sewage makes my eyes water somewhat. Also there seems to be a disproportionate amount of photocopiers in this town. It's only small but seemingly every shop has a photocopier. I swear if I needed to photocopy something this would be the place, the competition was fierce.
So to get ourselves out of this Poohole, Puno, and we book a little trip to a couple of Lake Titicaca's islands. Once we're on the lake, I relax and slap on the suncream. Damn that sun is strong. We're at 4000m and in the shade you feel like you might lose one of your testicles and in the sun you burn within 3 minutes, can't win.
We arrive on Amantani, I won't bore you with the introductory crap suffice to say it looked very picturesque and met the family we were to stay with. Buenos Dias I said friendly. Nothing. The old woman with black headscarf just started walking up the impossibly steep hill towards her 'house'. Then I realise she only speaks Quecha. Not even Spanish. Ace.
It wasn't an unpleasant place, the room was basic but functional. The toilet however was something altogether different. An outdoor shed hiding what was basically a hole. And the smell. If there were words in English I would use them but I've wracked my brain and I just seem to locate them. Fun for all during the night when realised you needed to go. Oh sure the stars were amazing but trying to find the shed with no power, holding your nose and aiming accurately. Frankly it all got the better of me.
So after that fun little episode we visit another island, do a bit of sight seeing, meet a very nice Israeli girl with her tagalong friend from New York and we have a very nice dinner with them.
Next day we head over the border to Bolivia and a town still on Lake Titicaca called Copacabana. A nice little place and our hotel is stunning. A large domed shaped building with perfect views of the lake from our room. And the room is enormous. It has 4 beds. Two twins and a double up a ladder. So we've basically been bumming around, sitting in the sun, reading. I've been listening to my Spanish CD and keep getting weird looks from other guests as I recite ''No Habla Espanol.''
We move to La Paz, the capital, tomorrow where we start our 11 day tour of Bolivia. We are having a truly great time, and whilst there are moments of challenge, bus stations to name but a few, my impressions of South America seem to get better and better.
I hope you are all well and I shall write soon to bore you all stupid with more inane tales from the Southern continent. Frankly if you're read this far you're either really bored at work or are doing it out of politeness. I appreciate either reason.
Till next time.
Dan
So after the long and somewhat laborious Inca Trail thing, seriously there's a train, why would you walk it?
So we leave the tourist empty Cuzco and jump on a bus to Arequipa, Peru's second biggest city, next to, wait for it, two active volcanoes. Nice. It's all white stone and not an unpleasant place to be for a few days. Wondered around a monastery or two, ate some local food which was fine. Although because we're totally stuck if we get to a restaurant and actually decide this isn't the place for us. By that time we've already sat down they've already started to wait on us. I kid you not, we went to three, yes three different restaurants. All of whom we sat down in and were given menu's. All of whom we decided weren't right and had to stand up in front of everyone else eating there and leave. I do love those uncomfortable, awkward moments.
Then we booked a little two day trip to the Colca Canyon which is supposedly twice the size of the Grand Canyon and whilst it was impressive I kept thinking to myself ''What's the difference between a canyon and a valley cos this sure looks like a valley.''
Anyway spotted some condors from miles away drifting on the currents and whilst I had to contend with some very loud Canadians on the bus there and back, it was all I could do from turning around and saying ''Why can't you say it quietly, she's sitting right next to you for Christ sake!''
So we jump on another bus to Puno, on Lake Titicaca which, frankly is a bit of a poo hole. It basically has one street where you get harassed by every restaurant, Internet cafe and local wanting to sell you something. We have a good deal on a hostel, only $20 a night, bargain, although the smell of raw sewage makes my eyes water somewhat. Also there seems to be a disproportionate amount of photocopiers in this town. It's only small but seemingly every shop has a photocopier. I swear if I needed to photocopy something this would be the place, the competition was fierce.
So to get ourselves out of this Poohole, Puno, and we book a little trip to a couple of Lake Titicaca's islands. Once we're on the lake, I relax and slap on the suncream. Damn that sun is strong. We're at 4000m and in the shade you feel like you might lose one of your testicles and in the sun you burn within 3 minutes, can't win.
We arrive on Amantani, I won't bore you with the introductory crap suffice to say it looked very picturesque and met the family we were to stay with. Buenos Dias I said friendly. Nothing. The old woman with black headscarf just started walking up the impossibly steep hill towards her 'house'. Then I realise she only speaks Quecha. Not even Spanish. Ace.
It wasn't an unpleasant place, the room was basic but functional. The toilet however was something altogether different. An outdoor shed hiding what was basically a hole. And the smell. If there were words in English I would use them but I've wracked my brain and I just seem to locate them. Fun for all during the night when realised you needed to go. Oh sure the stars were amazing but trying to find the shed with no power, holding your nose and aiming accurately. Frankly it all got the better of me.
So after that fun little episode we visit another island, do a bit of sight seeing, meet a very nice Israeli girl with her tagalong friend from New York and we have a very nice dinner with them.
Next day we head over the border to Bolivia and a town still on Lake Titicaca called Copacabana. A nice little place and our hotel is stunning. A large domed shaped building with perfect views of the lake from our room. And the room is enormous. It has 4 beds. Two twins and a double up a ladder. So we've basically been bumming around, sitting in the sun, reading. I've been listening to my Spanish CD and keep getting weird looks from other guests as I recite ''No Habla Espanol.''
We move to La Paz, the capital, tomorrow where we start our 11 day tour of Bolivia. We are having a truly great time, and whilst there are moments of challenge, bus stations to name but a few, my impressions of South America seem to get better and better.
I hope you are all well and I shall write soon to bore you all stupid with more inane tales from the Southern continent. Frankly if you're read this far you're either really bored at work or are doing it out of politeness. I appreciate either reason.
Till next time.
Dan
Inca Trail
Guten tag,
After the relative calm of the Galapagos we jetted off to Lima which, if I´m completely honest is a bit of a shit hole. The traffic and general feeling of impending doom to the tourist kinda wears you down. There were a couple of nice churches and Alison started hearing voices in her ears inside one of the catacombs which I just took as being the dodgy llama she´d had for lunch. So from Lima we join up with a bunch of children who all want to walk the Inca trail with us. They´re all gap yearers or students and I feel about as old as God. But they´re pleasant enough so we all catch a flight to Cusco which is in the mountains. A nice main square, not much oxygen etc etc. The first hotel we stay in is nice. A cross between a youth hostel for the under 25´s and a 10 year old Travel Inn. Not bad and as we settled down to sleep we wondered why we hadn´t said anything to the 20 people downstairs getting pissed, their voices gently echoing up the stairs almost nestling between myself and Alison.
So with bloodshot eyes we drove to some other Inca place, I wasn´t paying much attention at this point. All very impressive and old. Not sure why the Inca´s decided to live up the top of mountains. Obviously their town planning hadn´t gotten as far as worrying about skanky students doing a 4 day walk to get up to the damn place. Camping is not my thing. If I was in any doubt about that, the Inca Trail (God bless you) finalised it. It was cold, you could barely get in and out of the things, and Alison kept taking up my side which I really hate. So we walk. And walk. And walk some more. Up and up and up, then a little down, then up some more. Frankly it all got a bit tiresome and we started getting a bit ratty with other members of the group who all seemed to be from Norway or Sweden and seemed to be world-class hikers. And as they raced passed us for the 30th time leaving us in their dust I wondered if they´d be able to down a cup of tea nearly as fast as me. I doubt it! Ha. Obviously to our Scandinavian chums it was a race and they won, by a country mile and then some. (In fact they even had time for coffee and biscuits and a little snooze by the time we racked up)
So the guide comes up with the genius plan to try and to the 4 day hike in 3 days. Marvellous. And I thought this just couldn´t get any more fun. So we do it and through the cries of misery, 3 day old underwear and tears of abject hopelessness we finally make it to Machu Picchu which, to be fair is pretty spectacular. Could we have taken the train? Yes. And we should have. And so, on the way down (on the train) I have to resist the urge to scream from the window at those who are just setting off on their wet, ´life-enhancing´ journey. "For God sake, turn back!" I could not, however bring myself to carry it through. A nice touch on the train is the airline service you are treated to. A box of sandwiches, drinks...then, the train hostess (I assume that´s what she was called) treated us to a fashion show. Music started to blare out of speakers and she and her male colleague started cat- walking along the ´isle´ showcasing the best in Peruvian Alpaca (bit like Llama wool stuff). I was lost for words as the entire carriage started whooping and whistling at them. As the train pulled in to the station I started to wonder what other comedy life events the Sun God got in store for us.
Stay tuned for more rambling dispatches from the Southern American continent.
Dan
After the relative calm of the Galapagos we jetted off to Lima which, if I´m completely honest is a bit of a shit hole. The traffic and general feeling of impending doom to the tourist kinda wears you down. There were a couple of nice churches and Alison started hearing voices in her ears inside one of the catacombs which I just took as being the dodgy llama she´d had for lunch. So from Lima we join up with a bunch of children who all want to walk the Inca trail with us. They´re all gap yearers or students and I feel about as old as God. But they´re pleasant enough so we all catch a flight to Cusco which is in the mountains. A nice main square, not much oxygen etc etc. The first hotel we stay in is nice. A cross between a youth hostel for the under 25´s and a 10 year old Travel Inn. Not bad and as we settled down to sleep we wondered why we hadn´t said anything to the 20 people downstairs getting pissed, their voices gently echoing up the stairs almost nestling between myself and Alison.
So with bloodshot eyes we drove to some other Inca place, I wasn´t paying much attention at this point. All very impressive and old. Not sure why the Inca´s decided to live up the top of mountains. Obviously their town planning hadn´t gotten as far as worrying about skanky students doing a 4 day walk to get up to the damn place. Camping is not my thing. If I was in any doubt about that, the Inca Trail (God bless you) finalised it. It was cold, you could barely get in and out of the things, and Alison kept taking up my side which I really hate. So we walk. And walk. And walk some more. Up and up and up, then a little down, then up some more. Frankly it all got a bit tiresome and we started getting a bit ratty with other members of the group who all seemed to be from Norway or Sweden and seemed to be world-class hikers. And as they raced passed us for the 30th time leaving us in their dust I wondered if they´d be able to down a cup of tea nearly as fast as me. I doubt it! Ha. Obviously to our Scandinavian chums it was a race and they won, by a country mile and then some. (In fact they even had time for coffee and biscuits and a little snooze by the time we racked up)
So the guide comes up with the genius plan to try and to the 4 day hike in 3 days. Marvellous. And I thought this just couldn´t get any more fun. So we do it and through the cries of misery, 3 day old underwear and tears of abject hopelessness we finally make it to Machu Picchu which, to be fair is pretty spectacular. Could we have taken the train? Yes. And we should have. And so, on the way down (on the train) I have to resist the urge to scream from the window at those who are just setting off on their wet, ´life-enhancing´ journey. "For God sake, turn back!" I could not, however bring myself to carry it through. A nice touch on the train is the airline service you are treated to. A box of sandwiches, drinks...then, the train hostess (I assume that´s what she was called) treated us to a fashion show. Music started to blare out of speakers and she and her male colleague started cat- walking along the ´isle´ showcasing the best in Peruvian Alpaca (bit like Llama wool stuff). I was lost for words as the entire carriage started whooping and whistling at them. As the train pulled in to the station I started to wonder what other comedy life events the Sun God got in store for us.
Stay tuned for more rambling dispatches from the Southern American continent.
Dan
BACK FROM GALAPAGOS
Hello UK chums.
We have just returned from a staggering trip to the Galapagos Islands. What a place. Highlights, let´s see, swimming with Turtles, sea lions and sharks. Lowlights, slight seasickness on the boat in rougher seas, a little sun burned under my arms. After a somewhat tumultuous goodbye at the airport with familes wailing and tears streaming down my face like a big girl we board the plane to Quito via (get this) Amsterdam - Bonaire (wherever that is) - Guayquill - Quito. Mammouth 15 hour job. We were a little shagged when we finally reached Quito, Luckily our friendly man from the hotel was there with a big board and in shining letters ´Daniel Granto´.
Hotel was nice. After reading the guidebook security section on Quito and the different and varied ways of robbing, mugging, stabbing and killing tourists I think it´s fair to say we must have spent the first few days being terrified to our very essence and utterly paranoid of everything and everyone. A little trip on a local bus up to the Equator, which was all very jolly, looking at everyone on the bus and wondering how long it would be before someone asked us to hand over the cash and-or my sun cream. Luckily never happened (touch wood) Then Galapagos. Quite a small yacht-type boat. Keeps 12 people happy. Plan normally was sail to an island overnight. Then snorkel followed by walk or vice versa. Then sail again. That was life for the past 8 days and it was about as close to heaven as I´ve been in some time. Anyway, I promised myself I´d keep this short. We fly to Lima tomorrow and start the Inca trail the day after. Apparently it´s pissing it down consistantly. Hope I don´t lose my ´tan´, I spent many an hour working on that ´just got out of the Solarium´ look. I look a little like a beetroot but I´m hoping it will settle down to Adonis soon.
Hope all of you are well, I shall update when we´ve done the Inca Trail.
Chao!
We have just returned from a staggering trip to the Galapagos Islands. What a place. Highlights, let´s see, swimming with Turtles, sea lions and sharks. Lowlights, slight seasickness on the boat in rougher seas, a little sun burned under my arms. After a somewhat tumultuous goodbye at the airport with familes wailing and tears streaming down my face like a big girl we board the plane to Quito via (get this) Amsterdam - Bonaire (wherever that is) - Guayquill - Quito. Mammouth 15 hour job. We were a little shagged when we finally reached Quito, Luckily our friendly man from the hotel was there with a big board and in shining letters ´Daniel Granto´.
Hotel was nice. After reading the guidebook security section on Quito and the different and varied ways of robbing, mugging, stabbing and killing tourists I think it´s fair to say we must have spent the first few days being terrified to our very essence and utterly paranoid of everything and everyone. A little trip on a local bus up to the Equator, which was all very jolly, looking at everyone on the bus and wondering how long it would be before someone asked us to hand over the cash and-or my sun cream. Luckily never happened (touch wood) Then Galapagos. Quite a small yacht-type boat. Keeps 12 people happy. Plan normally was sail to an island overnight. Then snorkel followed by walk or vice versa. Then sail again. That was life for the past 8 days and it was about as close to heaven as I´ve been in some time. Anyway, I promised myself I´d keep this short. We fly to Lima tomorrow and start the Inca trail the day after. Apparently it´s pissing it down consistantly. Hope I don´t lose my ´tan´, I spent many an hour working on that ´just got out of the Solarium´ look. I look a little like a beetroot but I´m hoping it will settle down to Adonis soon.
Hope all of you are well, I shall update when we´ve done the Inca Trail.
Chao!
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