On the 25th of February, I took the ferry to Porvenir. Porvenir is the largest town in Chilean Tierra del Fuego, and the furthest south I have ever been. It was very windy and cold. I had lunch in the Croatian Club. Southern Chile was mostly settled by Germans and Yugoslavians, and they still have a lot of social clubs. It is a small town, so after lunch I took the ferry back to Punta Arenas.
The next day I did a big food shopping and took the bus to Puerto Natales. On the 27th, I took a bus up to Torres del Paine National Park and began a great walk. Most people walk the circuit of the Paine Massif in about ten days. I had 18 until my boat left, and I was determined to use them all. So, I set out on the world큦 slowest circuit of the park.
Day 1 - Two weeks worth of food is very heavy. I figured out that I had about 28 (13 kilos) pounds of food and that my pack weighed between 60 and 70 pounds (30 kilos). I walked from Hosteria Los Torres, up the valley to Campamento Los Torres.
Day 2 - After a bit of a late start, I left for a day hike further up the valley. I went up to the Japonese camp, followed the bend in the valley and hiked up next to a glacier to the head of the Silent Valley. From there I was able to scramble up to the base of the huge pinnacles of rock that tower over the area. Looking between two of them I could see all the way down to the viewpoint that was my next days destination. My day hike lasted 11 hours and I got back to camp at 10 pm.
Day 3 - I took a morning stroll from the campground up to the viewpoint of the towers. They were also impressive from this view. I spent the afternoon hiking back down to Hosteria Los Torres to spend the night.
Day 4 - I set off to start the circuit in a clockwise direction. Most people walk in a counter-clockwise direction, and I later began telling people that I was doing the anti-circuit. With my heavy pack, this was a long, hard day. I passed a few lakes, went over a minor pass and camped at Los Cuernos.
Day 5 - The Bader valley has no trails and is barely mentioned on the maps, but it was calling to me. I hiked up the valley and from the top, I had a third view of the Torres and looked down on the viewpoint from a second vantage point. This was another long day hike. When I returned to the campground, the people in the mountain refuge were just starting to get worried and come looking for me. It was after dark, and more importantly, after dinner. They sell dinner for about ten dollars at 8:30 pm. When I got there, dinner was over and they gave me the leftovers for free.
Day 6 - I took my final hot shower for a long time and then moved up to the French camp. I found a nice spot and listened to ice chunks fall off of the French glacier on the Paine Mountain.
Day 7 - The day started out with clear blue skies and I headed up the French valley, passed the British camp, and then started scrambling up the side of the valley. I was headed up to a point, from which I would be able to look back down the Bader valley from another view point and be able to see the Torres again. Unfortunately, the weather did not co-operate. As I got higher, the wind got faster and the snow started coming down horizontally. Eventually, the wobbly stones became slippery with a layer of ice. I crested two false summits and was probably about 45 minutes from the top and the viewpoint that I wanted to reach. For some reason I decided that it was getting a bit dangerous and I knew that going down, into the wind, was going to be much harder. It was a very difficult decision, but I turned around and began my descent. As soon as I turned around, I was blinded by the snow being blown into my face. My black fleece pants were soon caked in a layer of ice, which protected my legs from the wind and kept me warm. After an hour of going down, the sun came out and the sky cleared. I felt like a fool, if I had continued up I would have arrived at the top with the good weather. But, if I had continued up and the weather had not cleared, it would have been a very, very long and difficult day. Soon it started raining again and the last few hours back to camp were in the rain.
Day 8 - I declared a rest day and read a book.
Day 9 - I finished off my second book of the trip and moved camp to Pehoe. I made a little sign to trade a book and had no luck exchanging them.
Day 10 - I strapped my sign to my chest and fought the wind for the day. Since I was doing the anit-circuit, everybody was going the other way and could read my sign. Everybody told me that they had left their books in town or had burned them on the pass because they weighed too much. I made it to the foot of the Grey Glacier in the early afternoon, set up camp and watched the glacier for the rest of the day.
Day 11 - Up until this point, the portion of the circuit I was on is also called the 큌?and most people, especially the organized groups of older people, only do this portion. I was now on the true circuit and the trail got much more difficult. The rivers did not always have bridges, the trails were on more exposed cliff sides and the slopes got steeper. It took me all day to get to Campamento Paso.
Day 12 - It was time for another day hike. I followed the edge of the glacier up the valley to the Forgotten valley. I wanted to go to the head of this valley, but the foliage was too thick.
Day 13 - Now, after eating much of my food, my pack was starting to feel pretty manageable. I headed up the steepest part of the circuit and made it to the pass in time for lunch. Usually it is windy and cold up there, but today was sunny and warm. I spent about two hours having lunch and enjoying the views of the Southern Ice Field. It is about 180 miles long and the largest non-polar ice field in the world. Then it was an easy descent to Campamento Los Perros. A fox came to visit me around sunset.
Day 14 - I had planned a day hike up another side valley. After about an hour of bush bashing, and another hour of walking up a flat rubble filled valley, I reached a glacier. After only two hours, I had reached as far as I could go without ice tools. So, I went back to camp and tried to trade my books.
Day 15 - I shifted camp down the valley to Refugio Dickson. Some people saw me with my book exchange sign and my beard and thought I was the Forrest Gump of the circuit, walking forever and trading books along the way.
Day 16 - I had planned another full day hike, but it was raining pretty hard in the morning. After lunch I skirted the lake and tried to get into the Secret Valley. This portion of the park is covered with sharp thorn bushes and progress was incredibly slow and painful. I eventually found it easier to walk in the lake, even though it was cold. I got to the bottom of the valley, looked up it, wished I had more time, and then went back to camp.
Day 17 - By now I had almost no food left and I barely noticed the pack on my back. I flipped my pack in the air, flung my arms through the straps and headed off to the final campground. I saw another fox along the way and then had my first hot shower in a long time. Somewhere along the way, daylight savings time ended, but no body told me. So, while I was sleeping in until 8:30, everyone else was getting up at the early hour of 7:30. At night, I was staying up until 10 or 11 and every one else was going to sleep by 9 or 10. I liked the old time better than the new time. I realized that the time on my watch is pretty arbitrary out there. All I really need to know is how many hours of walking are left until I reach my destination and how many hours until sunset. The actual time is irrelevant. I think on my next hike I will set my watch so that I can wake up for sunrise around noon, watch sunset around midnight and maybe stay up until two in the morning before turning in.
Day 18 - I was out of food and time. I finished the circuit and caught the bus back to Puerto Natales.
My favorite kind of hike is a day hike, up a valley to the top and then looking down into the next valley. I got in a couple of these on this walk, but had to pass up about eight more valleys I would like to explore. All in all, it was a great walk, even if it was too short.
On the 16th of March, I went to the dock to get onto the Puerto Eden, a boat. They let us board around midnight. I went down to the bottom of the boat, in what I think was a former hold near the engine room. My room had 23 beds, mostly in three level bunks. I found a good top bunk and went to sleep.
On the 17th of March, I had breakfast, read a book, had lunch, watched a movie and then, finally, they were done loading the cargo of cows, horses, sheep, and trucks onto the ship. So, after 14 hours on the boat, we started our journey north. The next three days were spent watching movies, reading, meeting other people, looking for dolphins and seals, admiring the fjords and glaciers and sleeping. This trip took us north through the channels and passages of Patagonia. It is supposed to be comparable to the Inside Passage from Alaska to Washington. But, we saw fewer animals, and even though it rained most of the time, we had better weather.
On the 20th, we docked in Puerto Montt. I took a bus to Temuco and then the night train to Santiago. The next day I caught up with my friend Jason and met some of his Chilean friends. On the 22nd, we took a night bus to Calama. After a 22 hour journey we arrived. The next morning, we toured the largest open pit copper mine in the world. Jason left after lunch, and I took the night bus to Arica. Yesterday, I took a taxi across the border to Tacna, Peru and then the afternoon bus up to Arrequipa.
Today I am not doing much of anything, except eating. I forgot how inexpensive Peru is and how good the food is. I am trying to have at least one ceviche every day.
I had two memorable dreams recently. In one I spoke in Spanish. This was the first time I ever dreamed in another language, even if it was only two words. In the other dream, I read a book. I have been reading a lot of books this past week, and in my dream I did not see pictures. Instead, I read all about what I was dreaming about.
In Chile there are lots of men with long hair and beards. Here in Peru this is not so common. Today, for the first time in many months, someone stopped me take my picture because they thought I look like Jesus. I was crossing the plaza, in front of the big church, and I guess someone wanted a souvenir photo with me.
Tomorrow I will go back up to Ica to play in the sand dunes until the weekend. I will spend next weekend in Lima with Luis and Karem and then fly home on Tuesday.
Sunday, March 26, 2000
Thursday, February 24, 2000
Argentina - A rained out hike in N. H. and a sunny hike near Mt. Fitz Roy
On the 5th of February, I took a bus to a different part of Nahuel Huapi National Park. I met two guys from near Buenos Aires, Matias and Santiago. We hung out by the river and had some yerba mate. Later in the day, we got a ride part way up the road and camped by a lake, after making some yerba mate. On the 6th, we took a bus the rest of the way to the trail head and met two more friends of my friends, another Matias and Gabriel.
We camped in Pampa Linda and the next day was a perfectly clear day. We took a hike up to a mountain hut high on the side of Mt. Tronador and looked at the glaciers. Mt. Tronador is an amazing mountain to look at. It is shaped like a starfish. The arms are gently sloping, forested heights and the sections between them are deep valleys. The glaciers slide down the mountain and then fall off 1000 foot cliffs as either waterfalls or ice chunks to start down the valleys.
On the 8th, I woke up to a lot of rain. I spent most of the day in my tent or hanging out with my Argentinian friends, but in the afternoon we hiked to a nearby waterfall and made some yerba mate. The 9th of February brought some rain. It was not too heavy, so I took a hike. We were camped five miles down the valley from the mountain and had been listening to piecies of ice fall off for three days. I hiked up to the bottom of the cliffs and looked at the dozens of waterfalls and a few glaciers. I had a good 11 mile walk in the drizzle and then joined my friends for some yerba mate.
On the morning of the 10th I was determined to walk, rain or shine. It was rain. I checked out the trail and it was mostly mud, but in places it was completely underwater. The high parts were under about eight inches of snow and the Park Rangers closed the trail. So, after a good six days of hanging out in the rain, we took a bus back to Bariloche.
This week was the best week of Spanish lessons in my life. Matias, Santiago, Matias and Gabriel did not speak English. They were very patient with me and gave me the time to express myself. Also, after a few days they spoke using the words I understood and were also familiar enough with the way I spoke to understand me. The only problem was the accent. Argentinians have a very distinct accent, and now so do I. I have to make an effort to get rid of it. People have a hard enough time understanding my Spanish without Argentinian pronunciation and slang. I had a great time with them, but it was time to move on.
The next day, I decided that I had had enough hanging out and working my way south slowly. I bought a bus ticket to El Calafate and left in the early afternoon. The bus took all night to get to Comodoro Rivadavia. I let the woman and child sitting next to me use my seat and stood at the front of the bus. The spare bus driver pulled out a little stove and made some yerba mate for us. We arrived in Comodoro Rivadavia at 5 am. I was tired, having not slept all night. I fell asleep on the floor of the bus station and did not awaken until the guard told me to move at 7 am.
I spent the day wandering around town. In the afternoon, I went to the park to take a nap. I found a nice secluded area, but it was occupied. The man who was living there invited me over for some yerba mate on his campfire. I had a good chat with him and then went to the movie theater, to sleep through a movie.
At 12:30 am, on the 13th, my next bus left. I was able to get two seats to myself and slept the night away. We got to Rio Gallegos the next morning. This far south there is only one paved road, and it is on the Atlantic coast of Argentina. So, after going east all night from Bariloche, and south all night from Comodoro Rivadavia, I now had to go west again to the mountains. After one more bus ride, I was in El Calafate, on the edge of the Argentinian Glacier National Park.
On the 14th, I took a tour to the Perito Moreno Glacier. We had five hours there, and it was not enough. I found a good view point and spent the day there. The foot of the glacier is almost four miles wide and it ends in a lake. Every few minutes some pieces of ice would fall off and about every 15 minutes a huge piece of ice would break off and crash into the water. The front of the glacier is 150 feet tall and some truly impressive pieces broke off.
At one point I saw something truly amazing. The glacier, besides towering over the lake, also goes down into the lake for about 500 feet. Somewhere, down in the depths, a piece of ice broke off and shot to the surface. At first I saw a big dark blue chunk of ice pop up in the water. Then another piece, about the size of a small stadium, rose up and scraped along the front of the glacier to about the 100 foot mark. This big piece spent the next ten minutes falling apart and then floated around for the rest of the day. The surface ice of the glacier is a pale blue or white, but these pieces from the deep were very dark blue, almost black.
That evening, I did the last of my food shopping, and was ready to leave early on the 15th for my next hike. I took the bus up to the capital of the Fitz Roy section of the park, Chaltan. I met Otmar, a Swiss guy, and Mauricio, from Argentina. We spent the afternoon hiking up to Laguna Torre. After about an hour, Mauricio stopped to rest and said he would catch up to us later. He looked pretty tired and we never saw him again. I thought he went back to Chaltan, Otmar thought he camped where we left him on the trail.
The 16th was another clear day, so we took a little day hike up around the lake and up the valley for some views of the rock needles that tower over some glaciers. Otmar then left and I spent the day hiking up the valley, next to a glacier.
After these two nights at D'ugostino camp, I moved over to Poincenot camp. This only took the morning, and I followed a river bed up to a lake in the afternoon. There were more 3000 foot cliffs with water falls to look at. On the 18th, I hiked up to a lake and then a few more thousand feet up to a mountain top. This last bit involved some mildly challenging rock climbing and was quite fun. I caught up to Chad and Jeff on this hike/climb. They are both experienced mountaineers and we had a good day. Chad teaches the ice climbing courses in McCarthy, Alaska that I went on last year, but I did not know him.
It was time to move camp again, so I packed up. I had lunch in another glacier/lake/river/moraine area. I got to my final camp of this trip and then took a few hour hike up the valley to look at a lake and some glaciers. I joined a couple from Norway for this walk and our 1 hour walk turned into three, because we always wanted to know what was around the next bend. We finally got some great views of Mt. Fitz Roy.
On the 20th, I had the cold that was going around. I felt okay, but had a stuffy nostril. I spent the day resting. I was running out of food on the 21st, but had a good weather day hike planned. It was cloudy, so I hiked out. I caught the afternoon bus to El Calafate. One of the people who shared my room that night sniffled all night, except when he snored. Tom, Winkie and I did not sleep at all. We gave up lying there around 5:30 and went to the bus station. We were there early enough for the first bus out of town.
After a very smooth border crossing, we were in Puerto Natales, Chile. Two months ago, when I arrived from Bolivia, Chile was ridiculously expensive. Now, arriving from Argentina, Chile seems very affordable and I do not have to watch my budget so much.
I took an afternoon bus to Punta Arenas and will spend a few days here to relax. I am now in the southernmost city in the world, at the very tip of South America, just above Tierra del Fuego.
Yesterday, I went out to the penguin breeding area and looked at the three month old penguins. They were fun to watch for a while and posed really well for cameras. I am staying with a local family and I taught the kid how to play chess today.
As of this moment, I plan to spend a few more days here and then head up to Torres del Paine National Park. I will walk for two or three weeks there and then start to head north, for my flight out of Lima on the 4th of April.
And now, for some observations. In Argentina, they really, really like yerba mate. A yerba mate is sort of like tea. They fill a cup with something that looks like grass clippings, and maybe add a little sugar. Then they stick in a metal straw with a strainer at the bottom. Pour in some hot water and it is ready. They suck up the water, pour in some more water and pass the cup on to the next person. I think it is slightly bitter and fairly weak, but they love it. Chad tells me that tea bags of yerba mate are all the rage in Boulder, Colorado. But, to me, it is just like tea - dirty water.
I was doing okay with Spanish in Peru and Bolivia, then I got to Chile. Here they speak very quickly, mumble a bit, and drop the final "s" from every word. Spanish has a lot of final "s" and I have had some difficulty. In Argentina, they have a very unique accent, which I was able to pick up. Now, unless a Chileno knows that I am speaking Argentinian, he does not understand me.
In Bolivia, everyone calls each other "Joven" which means youngster. I understood this when spoken by older people, but it was strange to hear ten year old shoe shine boys call me youngster. In Chile, they like to finish sentences with "no mas" which means no more. Of course, when they say it it sounds like "no ma" So, something might cost 500 pesos, no more (or "No mo". Or I might have to walk three blocks, no more. The Argentinian word for man is "che" and it is widely employed.
When a Bolivian enters a restaurant, he says "Bon Provecho" to everyone, which seems pretty friendly to me.
We camped in Pampa Linda and the next day was a perfectly clear day. We took a hike up to a mountain hut high on the side of Mt. Tronador and looked at the glaciers. Mt. Tronador is an amazing mountain to look at. It is shaped like a starfish. The arms are gently sloping, forested heights and the sections between them are deep valleys. The glaciers slide down the mountain and then fall off 1000 foot cliffs as either waterfalls or ice chunks to start down the valleys.
On the 8th, I woke up to a lot of rain. I spent most of the day in my tent or hanging out with my Argentinian friends, but in the afternoon we hiked to a nearby waterfall and made some yerba mate. The 9th of February brought some rain. It was not too heavy, so I took a hike. We were camped five miles down the valley from the mountain and had been listening to piecies of ice fall off for three days. I hiked up to the bottom of the cliffs and looked at the dozens of waterfalls and a few glaciers. I had a good 11 mile walk in the drizzle and then joined my friends for some yerba mate.
On the morning of the 10th I was determined to walk, rain or shine. It was rain. I checked out the trail and it was mostly mud, but in places it was completely underwater. The high parts were under about eight inches of snow and the Park Rangers closed the trail. So, after a good six days of hanging out in the rain, we took a bus back to Bariloche.
This week was the best week of Spanish lessons in my life. Matias, Santiago, Matias and Gabriel did not speak English. They were very patient with me and gave me the time to express myself. Also, after a few days they spoke using the words I understood and were also familiar enough with the way I spoke to understand me. The only problem was the accent. Argentinians have a very distinct accent, and now so do I. I have to make an effort to get rid of it. People have a hard enough time understanding my Spanish without Argentinian pronunciation and slang. I had a great time with them, but it was time to move on.
The next day, I decided that I had had enough hanging out and working my way south slowly. I bought a bus ticket to El Calafate and left in the early afternoon. The bus took all night to get to Comodoro Rivadavia. I let the woman and child sitting next to me use my seat and stood at the front of the bus. The spare bus driver pulled out a little stove and made some yerba mate for us. We arrived in Comodoro Rivadavia at 5 am. I was tired, having not slept all night. I fell asleep on the floor of the bus station and did not awaken until the guard told me to move at 7 am.
I spent the day wandering around town. In the afternoon, I went to the park to take a nap. I found a nice secluded area, but it was occupied. The man who was living there invited me over for some yerba mate on his campfire. I had a good chat with him and then went to the movie theater, to sleep through a movie.
At 12:30 am, on the 13th, my next bus left. I was able to get two seats to myself and slept the night away. We got to Rio Gallegos the next morning. This far south there is only one paved road, and it is on the Atlantic coast of Argentina. So, after going east all night from Bariloche, and south all night from Comodoro Rivadavia, I now had to go west again to the mountains. After one more bus ride, I was in El Calafate, on the edge of the Argentinian Glacier National Park.
On the 14th, I took a tour to the Perito Moreno Glacier. We had five hours there, and it was not enough. I found a good view point and spent the day there. The foot of the glacier is almost four miles wide and it ends in a lake. Every few minutes some pieces of ice would fall off and about every 15 minutes a huge piece of ice would break off and crash into the water. The front of the glacier is 150 feet tall and some truly impressive pieces broke off.
At one point I saw something truly amazing. The glacier, besides towering over the lake, also goes down into the lake for about 500 feet. Somewhere, down in the depths, a piece of ice broke off and shot to the surface. At first I saw a big dark blue chunk of ice pop up in the water. Then another piece, about the size of a small stadium, rose up and scraped along the front of the glacier to about the 100 foot mark. This big piece spent the next ten minutes falling apart and then floated around for the rest of the day. The surface ice of the glacier is a pale blue or white, but these pieces from the deep were very dark blue, almost black.
That evening, I did the last of my food shopping, and was ready to leave early on the 15th for my next hike. I took the bus up to the capital of the Fitz Roy section of the park, Chaltan. I met Otmar, a Swiss guy, and Mauricio, from Argentina. We spent the afternoon hiking up to Laguna Torre. After about an hour, Mauricio stopped to rest and said he would catch up to us later. He looked pretty tired and we never saw him again. I thought he went back to Chaltan, Otmar thought he camped where we left him on the trail.
The 16th was another clear day, so we took a little day hike up around the lake and up the valley for some views of the rock needles that tower over some glaciers. Otmar then left and I spent the day hiking up the valley, next to a glacier.
After these two nights at D'ugostino camp, I moved over to Poincenot camp. This only took the morning, and I followed a river bed up to a lake in the afternoon. There were more 3000 foot cliffs with water falls to look at. On the 18th, I hiked up to a lake and then a few more thousand feet up to a mountain top. This last bit involved some mildly challenging rock climbing and was quite fun. I caught up to Chad and Jeff on this hike/climb. They are both experienced mountaineers and we had a good day. Chad teaches the ice climbing courses in McCarthy, Alaska that I went on last year, but I did not know him.
It was time to move camp again, so I packed up. I had lunch in another glacier/lake/river/moraine area. I got to my final camp of this trip and then took a few hour hike up the valley to look at a lake and some glaciers. I joined a couple from Norway for this walk and our 1 hour walk turned into three, because we always wanted to know what was around the next bend. We finally got some great views of Mt. Fitz Roy.
On the 20th, I had the cold that was going around. I felt okay, but had a stuffy nostril. I spent the day resting. I was running out of food on the 21st, but had a good weather day hike planned. It was cloudy, so I hiked out. I caught the afternoon bus to El Calafate. One of the people who shared my room that night sniffled all night, except when he snored. Tom, Winkie and I did not sleep at all. We gave up lying there around 5:30 and went to the bus station. We were there early enough for the first bus out of town.
After a very smooth border crossing, we were in Puerto Natales, Chile. Two months ago, when I arrived from Bolivia, Chile was ridiculously expensive. Now, arriving from Argentina, Chile seems very affordable and I do not have to watch my budget so much.
I took an afternoon bus to Punta Arenas and will spend a few days here to relax. I am now in the southernmost city in the world, at the very tip of South America, just above Tierra del Fuego.
Yesterday, I went out to the penguin breeding area and looked at the three month old penguins. They were fun to watch for a while and posed really well for cameras. I am staying with a local family and I taught the kid how to play chess today.
As of this moment, I plan to spend a few more days here and then head up to Torres del Paine National Park. I will walk for two or three weeks there and then start to head north, for my flight out of Lima on the 4th of April.
And now, for some observations. In Argentina, they really, really like yerba mate. A yerba mate is sort of like tea. They fill a cup with something that looks like grass clippings, and maybe add a little sugar. Then they stick in a metal straw with a strainer at the bottom. Pour in some hot water and it is ready. They suck up the water, pour in some more water and pass the cup on to the next person. I think it is slightly bitter and fairly weak, but they love it. Chad tells me that tea bags of yerba mate are all the rage in Boulder, Colorado. But, to me, it is just like tea - dirty water.
I was doing okay with Spanish in Peru and Bolivia, then I got to Chile. Here they speak very quickly, mumble a bit, and drop the final "s" from every word. Spanish has a lot of final "s" and I have had some difficulty. In Argentina, they have a very unique accent, which I was able to pick up. Now, unless a Chileno knows that I am speaking Argentinian, he does not understand me.
In Bolivia, everyone calls each other "Joven" which means youngster. I understood this when spoken by older people, but it was strange to hear ten year old shoe shine boys call me youngster. In Chile, they like to finish sentences with "no mas" which means no more. Of course, when they say it it sounds like "no ma" So, something might cost 500 pesos, no more (or "No mo". Or I might have to walk three blocks, no more. The Argentinian word for man is "che" and it is widely employed.
When a Bolivian enters a restaurant, he says "Bon Provecho" to everyone, which seems pretty friendly to me.
Friday, February 4, 2000
Chile - Kayak and Hike Puyehue. Argentina - Hike Nahuel Haupi
After my last update, I ended up spending about six days in Pucon. Pucon turned out to be a very popular place to kayak. I spent two days adjusting my schedule so that I could hang out with other people all night and get into the kayak scene. Once there, I met the right people and went kayaking.
On whatever Monday it was after the 14th of January, I joined a few others for a paddle down the Lincura River. It was not too difficult and I only had to swim once. Amazingly, I was still able to roll the kayak and was able to rescue myself the other half a dozen times I ended up-side down.
On Tuesday, a bunch of us headed out to the San Pedro River. This was a little more challenging and a very long day. Again, I only came out of my kayak once. Though, on a few occasions it did take me four attempts to roll the kayak back over.
On Wednesday, we spent the afternoon on the Lower Trincura River. This was not too bad at all and I think I only flipped twice and saved myself both times. I still think kayaking is a lot of fun and could be one of my next sports, but I still like trekking better and it was time to head out again.
After a rest day, I went to Osorno. On the Saturday, I made my way out to the start of my next hike. I stayed in a very nice National Park campground and had a look at a couple of waterfalls.
On Sunday I began my traverse of the Puyehue Volcano. The trail starts by crossing a private farm, and they charge ten dollars for this privilege. It was a bit of a rip-off, but as they say in Nepal "Ke Gar Nay" or "What to do". The first day's walk was uphill and in places very slippery. It passed through a nice forest and ended up near the tree line. That night I met three French Canadians who work as tour guides in the summer and travel each winter. It sounded like a good life to me.
The next day I climbed up to the top of the Puyehue Volcano and then continued on to the next campsite. That night, and the next, were spent camped next to some natural hot springs. Very hot water bubbles up from the ground and an icy cold river flows near by. Right where the hot and cold waters meet, a small bath has been dug and I spent two hours trying not to burn or freeze. Overall, I was successful and had a great soak as the stars came out.
On the Tuesday morning, I got an early start and walked for two hours to the nearby geysers and boiling mud. I am a big fan of boiling mud and spent two hours there taking in the scenery, eating lunch, reading my book and, once they joined me, talking to Jason and Sarah from London.
This area was all above the tree line and very dry. The terrain looked like sand dunes, but was really a very light (colored and weight) volcanic rock called pumice. The rocks float in water and get ground to dust in your boots, which saves stopping and emptying them. I was in heaven, it looked like sand dunes, but was much easier to walk on. My plan for the day was to head way off the trails and explore this high deserty plain.
About every hour I came across another amazing feature of this volcanic area and thought "Now I have seen it all, it can't get better than this." Then, an hour later, I would come across something even more amazing. I saw big volcanic rocks sticking up and deep snow filled chasms between them. I strolled along the rim of a crater and saw where the rim was cracked as pieces of it slid down the slope. I found a little crater made of rough lava that was steaming. The lava was all cold and solid, but steam was coming out of the rim. Then I found another big area of geysers and smelly sulfur.
I had high expectations for this day walk and was not disappointed. My normal days are great, my normal trekking days are excellent, but these are the days I live for. I usually only get two or three days this good each year. No hill was too high, no valley was too deep, no lava field was too rough, no crossing was too hot or too cold. With nothing to carry except some food and water I was able to walk all afternoon without getting tired.
In the end I probably did not even walk 15 miles, but it was great. I was able to look north and see the volcanoes I walked around two weeks earlier. To the south I could see the volcano I would walk around next. This day was definitely one of the highlights of my trip south.
I could have spent another three days in that area - exploring. But, I did not have that much food, so it was time to come down. Sarah, Jason, and I spent a very long day walking north and eventually came to a farm on the other side of the park. They did not charge us an exit fee, instead they sold us some bread and cheese.
The next morning we went back up to the farm to get a bit more bread. The dogs did not remember us and attacked. Four of them ran up to us. One of them bit me on the leg, but did not break the skin. Then he bit me again and ripped my sock and put a little hole in my boot. This brings me back to my point last month - why buy expensive gear that can break when skin grows back all by itself. At least the bread was good.
The farm is at the end of a dirt road and after a few miles, we got a ride in a logging truck. He took us a few miles and then stopped to unload the logs. This was pretty impressive and Jason and I stopped to watch. Our next ride was in the back of an open pick-up truck. The road was very dusty. The three of us sat next to each other, but somehow Jason only got a little dirty, Sarah got pretty dirty and I was just a mess.
We caught a bus to Lago Ranco after the pick-up truck. The bus driver laughed at me because I was so dirty. We spent the afternoon at Lago Ranco and after a good swim nobody stared at me anymore. Our next bus brought us back to Osorno for the night.
The next day was spent on a bus and waiting at borders. In the evening, we got to San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina. This is a very very touristy town, in the Swiss style. Every other store is a chocolate shop and the buildings are all Swiss mountainy looking.
After one night in the city, we hit the trail again. This time we went to the nearby Nahuel Huapi National Park. Jason and Sarah are on South American time and we did not start walking until 3:30 p.m. We got to the first campground a little late, after a nice walk up through a forest.
The next morning was rainy. We hung out in the tents until after lunch and then started walking. First we climbed up the wall behind the lake and then we came down the other side. This took a lot out of us, so we stopped at the bottom of the valley. Day three of the walk started with good weather. We climbed up the other side of the valley and down again after the pass to the next camping area. Both of those downhills were among the toughest I have ever done. Looking back on them, they both appeared to be sheer walls of scree and impossible to negotiate. But, somehow, we made it down them.
Day four started with a real downpour, which continued the entire day. I had planned to do the most difficult section of the trail next, but the rain kept me in my tent all day. To survive such a situation I had to keep myself on a strict regimen of eat, read, sleep. After my first cycle of this, Sarah and Jason packed up and left. They had less time than me and were not planning to go the same way as me. They headed down the valley, in the rain, and finished their hike. I then repeated my regimen two more times.
Day five was perfectly clear and I did the hardest day of hiking in my life. The first section was a lot more like rock climbing than hiking. At one point I was supposed to follow a rocky chute up the cliff, but thanks to the rain it was a rocky series of waterfalls. On one section, I had to put my foot through the water to find a place to stand. So as I went up, my leg was in the icy stream and my handhold was too, which allowed the water to also run down sleeve. On the sides of the water was slippery ice and the rocky chute was so narrow, my pack scraped both sides.
I eventually made it to the top, spent the next few hours moving along the ridge and then had a huge down hill section. This part eventually went below the tree line and I spent a lot of time bush bashing. The last hour of the day was finally on a real trail and not just a nearly imaginary one. I was happy to finally be able to walk, instead of climbing, sliding, pushing and figuring out my next step. I seized the opportunity to finally walk and went up the 1000 feet of steep switchbacks in well under an hour.
After camping by yet another lake, I hiked up another mountain, along a ridge, down a long ways to another valley for lunch. After a bit of uphill, I had to do an extremely challenging uphill. From below I had dismissed this section of the trail as impossible and looked for the trail elsewhere. Eventually, I convinced myself that the trail really did go 1000 feet straight up a very steep scree slope. This took me a long time because nearly every rock I stepped on slid down a little ways.
From the top, I was 3500 feet above the bus stop and no where to go but down. The first bit involved a bit more climbing then the trail opened up below the tree line and I made pretty good time.
I spent today relaxing and eating in Bariloche. Tomorrow I will start my next five or six day hike.
Thanks to a few more passes through my trekking guide book, I now have eight more hikes planned and had better get moving if I hope to finish before the middle of spring and before my return to the States on the 4th of April.
Also, Argentina is so expensive that I will go broke if I stay in hotels and eat all day. I can only afford this country if I camp for free and am not tempted by ice cream and chocolate every five minutes.
On whatever Monday it was after the 14th of January, I joined a few others for a paddle down the Lincura River. It was not too difficult and I only had to swim once. Amazingly, I was still able to roll the kayak and was able to rescue myself the other half a dozen times I ended up-side down.
On Tuesday, a bunch of us headed out to the San Pedro River. This was a little more challenging and a very long day. Again, I only came out of my kayak once. Though, on a few occasions it did take me four attempts to roll the kayak back over.
On Wednesday, we spent the afternoon on the Lower Trincura River. This was not too bad at all and I think I only flipped twice and saved myself both times. I still think kayaking is a lot of fun and could be one of my next sports, but I still like trekking better and it was time to head out again.
After a rest day, I went to Osorno. On the Saturday, I made my way out to the start of my next hike. I stayed in a very nice National Park campground and had a look at a couple of waterfalls.
On Sunday I began my traverse of the Puyehue Volcano. The trail starts by crossing a private farm, and they charge ten dollars for this privilege. It was a bit of a rip-off, but as they say in Nepal "Ke Gar Nay" or "What to do". The first day's walk was uphill and in places very slippery. It passed through a nice forest and ended up near the tree line. That night I met three French Canadians who work as tour guides in the summer and travel each winter. It sounded like a good life to me.
The next day I climbed up to the top of the Puyehue Volcano and then continued on to the next campsite. That night, and the next, were spent camped next to some natural hot springs. Very hot water bubbles up from the ground and an icy cold river flows near by. Right where the hot and cold waters meet, a small bath has been dug and I spent two hours trying not to burn or freeze. Overall, I was successful and had a great soak as the stars came out.
On the Tuesday morning, I got an early start and walked for two hours to the nearby geysers and boiling mud. I am a big fan of boiling mud and spent two hours there taking in the scenery, eating lunch, reading my book and, once they joined me, talking to Jason and Sarah from London.
This area was all above the tree line and very dry. The terrain looked like sand dunes, but was really a very light (colored and weight) volcanic rock called pumice. The rocks float in water and get ground to dust in your boots, which saves stopping and emptying them. I was in heaven, it looked like sand dunes, but was much easier to walk on. My plan for the day was to head way off the trails and explore this high deserty plain.
About every hour I came across another amazing feature of this volcanic area and thought "Now I have seen it all, it can't get better than this." Then, an hour later, I would come across something even more amazing. I saw big volcanic rocks sticking up and deep snow filled chasms between them. I strolled along the rim of a crater and saw where the rim was cracked as pieces of it slid down the slope. I found a little crater made of rough lava that was steaming. The lava was all cold and solid, but steam was coming out of the rim. Then I found another big area of geysers and smelly sulfur.
I had high expectations for this day walk and was not disappointed. My normal days are great, my normal trekking days are excellent, but these are the days I live for. I usually only get two or three days this good each year. No hill was too high, no valley was too deep, no lava field was too rough, no crossing was too hot or too cold. With nothing to carry except some food and water I was able to walk all afternoon without getting tired.
In the end I probably did not even walk 15 miles, but it was great. I was able to look north and see the volcanoes I walked around two weeks earlier. To the south I could see the volcano I would walk around next. This day was definitely one of the highlights of my trip south.
I could have spent another three days in that area - exploring. But, I did not have that much food, so it was time to come down. Sarah, Jason, and I spent a very long day walking north and eventually came to a farm on the other side of the park. They did not charge us an exit fee, instead they sold us some bread and cheese.
The next morning we went back up to the farm to get a bit more bread. The dogs did not remember us and attacked. Four of them ran up to us. One of them bit me on the leg, but did not break the skin. Then he bit me again and ripped my sock and put a little hole in my boot. This brings me back to my point last month - why buy expensive gear that can break when skin grows back all by itself. At least the bread was good.
The farm is at the end of a dirt road and after a few miles, we got a ride in a logging truck. He took us a few miles and then stopped to unload the logs. This was pretty impressive and Jason and I stopped to watch. Our next ride was in the back of an open pick-up truck. The road was very dusty. The three of us sat next to each other, but somehow Jason only got a little dirty, Sarah got pretty dirty and I was just a mess.
We caught a bus to Lago Ranco after the pick-up truck. The bus driver laughed at me because I was so dirty. We spent the afternoon at Lago Ranco and after a good swim nobody stared at me anymore. Our next bus brought us back to Osorno for the night.
The next day was spent on a bus and waiting at borders. In the evening, we got to San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina. This is a very very touristy town, in the Swiss style. Every other store is a chocolate shop and the buildings are all Swiss mountainy looking.
After one night in the city, we hit the trail again. This time we went to the nearby Nahuel Huapi National Park. Jason and Sarah are on South American time and we did not start walking until 3:30 p.m. We got to the first campground a little late, after a nice walk up through a forest.
The next morning was rainy. We hung out in the tents until after lunch and then started walking. First we climbed up the wall behind the lake and then we came down the other side. This took a lot out of us, so we stopped at the bottom of the valley. Day three of the walk started with good weather. We climbed up the other side of the valley and down again after the pass to the next camping area. Both of those downhills were among the toughest I have ever done. Looking back on them, they both appeared to be sheer walls of scree and impossible to negotiate. But, somehow, we made it down them.
Day four started with a real downpour, which continued the entire day. I had planned to do the most difficult section of the trail next, but the rain kept me in my tent all day. To survive such a situation I had to keep myself on a strict regimen of eat, read, sleep. After my first cycle of this, Sarah and Jason packed up and left. They had less time than me and were not planning to go the same way as me. They headed down the valley, in the rain, and finished their hike. I then repeated my regimen two more times.
Day five was perfectly clear and I did the hardest day of hiking in my life. The first section was a lot more like rock climbing than hiking. At one point I was supposed to follow a rocky chute up the cliff, but thanks to the rain it was a rocky series of waterfalls. On one section, I had to put my foot through the water to find a place to stand. So as I went up, my leg was in the icy stream and my handhold was too, which allowed the water to also run down sleeve. On the sides of the water was slippery ice and the rocky chute was so narrow, my pack scraped both sides.
I eventually made it to the top, spent the next few hours moving along the ridge and then had a huge down hill section. This part eventually went below the tree line and I spent a lot of time bush bashing. The last hour of the day was finally on a real trail and not just a nearly imaginary one. I was happy to finally be able to walk, instead of climbing, sliding, pushing and figuring out my next step. I seized the opportunity to finally walk and went up the 1000 feet of steep switchbacks in well under an hour.
After camping by yet another lake, I hiked up another mountain, along a ridge, down a long ways to another valley for lunch. After a bit of uphill, I had to do an extremely challenging uphill. From below I had dismissed this section of the trail as impossible and looked for the trail elsewhere. Eventually, I convinced myself that the trail really did go 1000 feet straight up a very steep scree slope. This took me a long time because nearly every rock I stepped on slid down a little ways.
From the top, I was 3500 feet above the bus stop and no where to go but down. The first bit involved a bit more climbing then the trail opened up below the tree line and I made pretty good time.
I spent today relaxing and eating in Bariloche. Tomorrow I will start my next five or six day hike.
Thanks to a few more passes through my trekking guide book, I now have eight more hikes planned and had better get moving if I hope to finish before the middle of spring and before my return to the States on the 4th of April.
Also, Argentina is so expensive that I will go broke if I stay in hotels and eat all day. I can only afford this country if I camp for free and am not tempted by ice cream and chocolate every five minutes.
Friday, January 14, 2000
Bolivia - Bike, Hike, Mountain Climb, Silver Mine, Salt Flat. Chile - Hike
Well, I survived the New Year and am now enjoying myself in Chile.
On the 14th of December, I went on my bike ride. We left La Paz and drove up to a 4700 meter (about 15,000 feet) high pass. Then we headed down what the World Development Bank, in 1995, called "The World's Most Dangerous Road." It is an unpaved, very narrow, windy mountain road. Now, the road is one way, up in the evening, and down during the day. This has reduced the number of vehicles which fall off each month. I believe that the last time a bus full of people fell off was around the 3rd or so.
The first few minutes were paved and we raced by a few slow trucks. Eventually, the pavement ended and the fun began. It rained off and and on all day and there were plenty of puddles for me to splash in. It was cloudy, so we did not get to see the sheer cliffs or views. But, the road does pass under a number of waterfalls and I got good and wet. At one point, I had a bit too much speed and the inevitable happened - I fell. I slid down the road and ripped my pants and my jacket. I am bummed about the little hole in my expensive Gore-Tex jacket. I have decided to bike naked from now on. Gore-Tex is expensive, but skin grows back. I had a little scratch on my leg and my best scratch in years on my elbow, but by the time the ride ended and I had a look at my boo-boos, they had both stopped bleeding. Now I am healed, my pants are sown and my jacket has an appointment with some duct tape.
At the end of the tour, the group returned to La Paz by driving up the same road. I was too scared to drive on the road so I spent the night in Corioco. Corioco is only 1600 meters high and is down in the jungle. I think the man who worked in the hotel wanted to spend the night with me, but he eventually realized that I was not interested and left my room.
In the morning, I started my trek back to La Paz. There is an ancient Inca road that goes back over the mountains. Most people walk down the trail, but since I was already at the bottom and I prefer walking uphill, I walked up. First I had to go down to 900 meters (about 3000 feet). Then I walked up a river valley. The first day was very long and I did not get to the Japanese House until around 7 pm. Forty years ago, a Japanese man decided he liked the mountains of Bolivia. He still lives there and his lawn is the nicest camp ground I ever found in Bolivia. I think he might be a couple of ants short of a picnic, but he is nice.
The next day I continued up the valley. The trail was very overgrown and a machete would have been useful. I scraped through the jungle with the neon blue butterflies for another day. I even passed two other trekkers going down. By nine o'clock on the third day I finally reached the end of my valley, and it was time to turn west and start the serious uphill. I was now at 2200 meters (under 7,000 feet) and the top was at 4850 meters (around 15,000 feet). I quickly rose above the jungle and found the old Inca road. It was very wide, well paved and the llamas kept the grass on it very short. At times it was like walking up a huge lawn in the suburbs. I found the going up much more to my liking than the bush bashing. I made it about two thirds of the way to the top. I had only planned to go one third of the way, but I like going uphill so much, I could not stop.
When it was time to camp, I found a nice field and asked the little girl watching me if I could camp there. She said `yes` and I gave her some cookies. On the last day of my walk, I got an early start and was soon joined by a local woman and her two children. The daughter spoke some Spanish, but had a really bad cough and a hoarse voice, so I did not understand her. The little boy only spoke Amayra, so we did not converse. The mother spoke Spanish and asked for some medicine for her daughter.
They eventually stopped to do some farming and I kept going up. I actually finished the hike by lunch time, a day ahead of my very slow schedule. So, as a bit of a reward to myself, I put down my pack and went hiking for a few hours in the high mountains. Then I went to the road and quickly got a ride back to La Paz (3600 meters - around 11,000 feet).
I had planned to rest for two days and then head back to the mountains to climb the 6088 meter (almost 20,000 feet) Huayana Potosi (a mountain). My plans did not work out. The tour agency kept me waiting all week and then canceled due to lack of other people. I found another agency with enough people to do a shorter trip than I had planned.
On the morning of the 24th of December, we drove up to 4800 meters and hiked up to 5200 meters (nearly 16,000 feet). We went to bed at around 7 pm. As I expected, during my first night at a high altitude I got no sleep at all. Neither did the other three on the tour. At 12:30 on Christmas morning, we got up. It was a bit cloudy, but we could see the summit and it looked as if we might make it up there by sunrise.
We strapped on our crampons, grabbed our ice axes and started up the glacier. There was even enough moon light, that we did not need our flashlights. After an hour or two a little bit of snow started falling. After another few hours, a lot of snow started falling. Eventually we were at about 5800 meters (near 19,000 feet) and it was seriously snowing. By now the snow was about thigh deep and the going was very, very slow. We decided to turn around.
At this point, the wind was blowing little icy pieces of snow into our eyes. I could barely see the guy I was tied to, a few feet in front of me. I was fifth on the rope and definitely could not see the guide up front. I followed the frozen piece of rope coming at me from out of the blizzard. By now the snow had completely covered our tracks and I have no idea how our guide navigated. He finally did admit that we were lost. We sat down to rest and wait for a break in the fog. After the fog cleared for a minute, we got our bearings, corrected our course and returned to camp.
If we had failed to summit because of lack of fitness or trying I would have been upset. But, since we failed because we got stopped by several feet of new snow and got lost high on a glacier in the middle of the night, I felt I got my monies worth. With the proper clothing and equipment even this type of experience is survivable and can be enjoyable.
We were back in La Paz for dinner and I went to my favorite local Chinese place for dinner on the 25th.
I came to South America to trek in Patagonia. The good season does not start until January. Now it was time to start really moving and I felt a great urge to start hurrying and get down here.
On the 26th, I wanted to take a bus to Potosi the highest city in the world (just like Lhasa, Tibet). Buses only do the 10 hour journey at night, so I had to use my special strategy. I am often told that the next bus does not go where I want, when I want. But there is always a bus going half way there soon and once I am half way there, there is usually a bus leaving soon to go the rest of the way.
So, left Sunday morning for Oruru. Then I had lunch and took an afternoon bus to Potosi I am glad I went during the day. The scenery was beautiful, even if it was indistinguishable from Arizona. You know, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid even lived around there. They also died in the dry southwestern corner of Bolivia.
In Potosi I took a tour of the silver mines. The Spanish empire, and much of the European economy for several hundred years was supported by the silver that was mined there. When an area of the mountain is no longer profitable to mine, it is turned over to a cooperative. Then members are allowed to mine the silver for themselves. They are very poor and they use the same methods that the Indian slaves used in the 1500s. They bang holes in the rock with an iron bar and a hammer. Then they drop in some dynamite and run. Later they carry out the rubble and sell it to some one with a crushing machine.
The first stop on our mine tour was the shop. They encouraged us to bring some gifts to the miners. I bought some coca leaves for them to chew, some carbonate to light their lights, a detonator cap and some dynamite. All this set be back about two dollars. I have never purchased dynamite before. I wanted to take it out to the desert and blow it up. But, I figured I would probably hurt myself with it, so in the end, I gave it away in the mine.
On the 28th I went to Uyuni and walked out to the train graveyard. They had a bunch of old trains to dispose of, so they just drove them into the desert and left them. The next day I decided to go for a walk in the desert. This area is perfectly flat and completely dry. I saw a mountain off in the distance and decided to walk to it. I walked for about six miles and I think, in the end, it did actually look a little bit closer. I learned alot about mirages and distance judging in the desert that day. I turned around and went back to town.
On the 30th, it was time to start my tour of the Salar de Uyuni, which I had tried to walk across the previous day. Our first stop was the Salt Hotel. The Salar is a huge salt flat and we saw some people collecting salt and then saw a few buildings build completely out of salt. For lunch we stopped at a small hill in the middle of flatness. We spent the night in a small town. On the 31st, we drove though some beautiful high altitude areas and stopped at some cool rock formations.
For the final night of the year, we went to a red lake. I took a nice afternoon walk and then returned to the hotel for the big night. There were about twenty tourists and maybe as many locals in the town that night. Some of the tourists were like me and wanted to be someplace with no electricity or computers. If the world ended, we wanted to be the last to know it. There was a good little party in our room and a really, really cold party outside.
The next morning, we woke up at 5 and drove off to see some boiling mud and geysers. By 7 we were at the hot springs and I splashed around until breakfast. Around eleven, we made it to the border with Chile. The Bolivian border guard tried to charge us all two dollars to get an exit stamp. A really cheap Australian gave him a very hard time and was ably backed up by the Israelis. Eventually, the price of this bit of corruption came down to one dollar. In the end some people paid and the rest of us left the country without an exit stamp.
Chile is very different from Peru and Bolivia. In Peru and Bolivia, most of the population is descended from Indians. In Chile and Argentina, I think that most of the Indians were killed or put on reservations and then large numbers of European immigrants arrived. Chile is definitely not a poor country and in many ways feels just like travelling in Australia or New Zealand.
My first stop in Chile was San Pedro de Atacama. San Pedro is a very touristy town the northern desert. Prices were very high compared to one of the cheapest countries in South America, Bolivia. A set lunch costs at least three dollars. No more fifty cent meals for me. I quickly learned that if someone is young, carrying a big backpack and looks vaguely European, they are probably Chillean. Chilleans and Argentinians travel a lot and are the most common tourists around here.
On the 2nd I went to Antofogasta, on the coast. On the 3rd, I continued south to La Serena. I decided to try what seems to be the national fast food. The only cheap food I see for sale in the streets is the Completo. The Completo turned out to be a hot dog with avocado and ketchup. The only really bad thing, besides the price of buss es, that I have found so far in Chile, is the fast food. They are big on hot dogs, hamburgers and french fries.
On the 4th, I made it to the capital. I spent two nights in Santiago. It is a very clean and modern city and the subway is great. I saw an ice cream shop with line out the door, so I decided to try some. I turns out they make chocolate chip ice cream with chocolate ice cream. I wish more places in the U.S. did that.
On the 6th, I rode a bus all day to Temuco. The next morning I did some food shopping and then went to Pucon. Pucon turned out to be a very touristy town and since I had just spent nearly two weeks racing south to start trekking, I decided not to wait any longer. I made it out to the Villarica Volcano National Park around 5 pm and walked for about thirty minutes. I found a nice place to camp and spent the night.
The next day I started my walk around the volcano for real. I went over a bunch of lava and through some trees, camped by a nice river, crossed a bunch more lava, and camped by a river. Then I walked through some more lava and then went by some more nice trees. After three days, I was on the other side of the volcano and then walked over to the next one. I spent the fifth night of my walk next to a lake. The next day it poured. I sat in the tent and read my trekking guide book. Now I want to do every trek in the book, not just the eight I had planned. In the evening it stopped raining and I went for a little 3 hour walk. Around ten pm, I joined a couple of Israelis on the other side of the lake for some pineapple.
The seventh day of the walk turned out to be perfectly clear. I had very little food left, and my pack finally felt manageable. I had lunch near a white lake and then made my way down to one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen. It was surrounded by forest and on three sides there were steep mountains and then some snow. I camped on the edge of the lake and watched the ducks until I fell asleep. In the morning it took me three hours to leave because I kept sitting down and looking around.
I finally started walking at around 11 am. I made it almost to the end by 2:30, but then found an old abandoned cherry farm. I stayed for an hour and chowed down on the cherries, while a couple of parrots in the tree yelled at me. The trail ended near the Argentinian border and the Chilean guards helped me find a ride back to Pucon. Now I can better appreciate a touristy town with lots of food and a beach.
I want to hurry up and leave and start my next hike, but I am going to try to do some kayaking first. I just finished a great eight day hike, saw almost no other people, and can not wait to do it again and again and again.
On the 14th of December, I went on my bike ride. We left La Paz and drove up to a 4700 meter (about 15,000 feet) high pass. Then we headed down what the World Development Bank, in 1995, called "The World's Most Dangerous Road." It is an unpaved, very narrow, windy mountain road. Now, the road is one way, up in the evening, and down during the day. This has reduced the number of vehicles which fall off each month. I believe that the last time a bus full of people fell off was around the 3rd or so.
The first few minutes were paved and we raced by a few slow trucks. Eventually, the pavement ended and the fun began. It rained off and and on all day and there were plenty of puddles for me to splash in. It was cloudy, so we did not get to see the sheer cliffs or views. But, the road does pass under a number of waterfalls and I got good and wet. At one point, I had a bit too much speed and the inevitable happened - I fell. I slid down the road and ripped my pants and my jacket. I am bummed about the little hole in my expensive Gore-Tex jacket. I have decided to bike naked from now on. Gore-Tex is expensive, but skin grows back. I had a little scratch on my leg and my best scratch in years on my elbow, but by the time the ride ended and I had a look at my boo-boos, they had both stopped bleeding. Now I am healed, my pants are sown and my jacket has an appointment with some duct tape.
At the end of the tour, the group returned to La Paz by driving up the same road. I was too scared to drive on the road so I spent the night in Corioco. Corioco is only 1600 meters high and is down in the jungle. I think the man who worked in the hotel wanted to spend the night with me, but he eventually realized that I was not interested and left my room.
In the morning, I started my trek back to La Paz. There is an ancient Inca road that goes back over the mountains. Most people walk down the trail, but since I was already at the bottom and I prefer walking uphill, I walked up. First I had to go down to 900 meters (about 3000 feet). Then I walked up a river valley. The first day was very long and I did not get to the Japanese House until around 7 pm. Forty years ago, a Japanese man decided he liked the mountains of Bolivia. He still lives there and his lawn is the nicest camp ground I ever found in Bolivia. I think he might be a couple of ants short of a picnic, but he is nice.
The next day I continued up the valley. The trail was very overgrown and a machete would have been useful. I scraped through the jungle with the neon blue butterflies for another day. I even passed two other trekkers going down. By nine o'clock on the third day I finally reached the end of my valley, and it was time to turn west and start the serious uphill. I was now at 2200 meters (under 7,000 feet) and the top was at 4850 meters (around 15,000 feet). I quickly rose above the jungle and found the old Inca road. It was very wide, well paved and the llamas kept the grass on it very short. At times it was like walking up a huge lawn in the suburbs. I found the going up much more to my liking than the bush bashing. I made it about two thirds of the way to the top. I had only planned to go one third of the way, but I like going uphill so much, I could not stop.
When it was time to camp, I found a nice field and asked the little girl watching me if I could camp there. She said `yes` and I gave her some cookies. On the last day of my walk, I got an early start and was soon joined by a local woman and her two children. The daughter spoke some Spanish, but had a really bad cough and a hoarse voice, so I did not understand her. The little boy only spoke Amayra, so we did not converse. The mother spoke Spanish and asked for some medicine for her daughter.
They eventually stopped to do some farming and I kept going up. I actually finished the hike by lunch time, a day ahead of my very slow schedule. So, as a bit of a reward to myself, I put down my pack and went hiking for a few hours in the high mountains. Then I went to the road and quickly got a ride back to La Paz (3600 meters - around 11,000 feet).
I had planned to rest for two days and then head back to the mountains to climb the 6088 meter (almost 20,000 feet) Huayana Potosi (a mountain). My plans did not work out. The tour agency kept me waiting all week and then canceled due to lack of other people. I found another agency with enough people to do a shorter trip than I had planned.
On the morning of the 24th of December, we drove up to 4800 meters and hiked up to 5200 meters (nearly 16,000 feet). We went to bed at around 7 pm. As I expected, during my first night at a high altitude I got no sleep at all. Neither did the other three on the tour. At 12:30 on Christmas morning, we got up. It was a bit cloudy, but we could see the summit and it looked as if we might make it up there by sunrise.
We strapped on our crampons, grabbed our ice axes and started up the glacier. There was even enough moon light, that we did not need our flashlights. After an hour or two a little bit of snow started falling. After another few hours, a lot of snow started falling. Eventually we were at about 5800 meters (near 19,000 feet) and it was seriously snowing. By now the snow was about thigh deep and the going was very, very slow. We decided to turn around.
At this point, the wind was blowing little icy pieces of snow into our eyes. I could barely see the guy I was tied to, a few feet in front of me. I was fifth on the rope and definitely could not see the guide up front. I followed the frozen piece of rope coming at me from out of the blizzard. By now the snow had completely covered our tracks and I have no idea how our guide navigated. He finally did admit that we were lost. We sat down to rest and wait for a break in the fog. After the fog cleared for a minute, we got our bearings, corrected our course and returned to camp.
If we had failed to summit because of lack of fitness or trying I would have been upset. But, since we failed because we got stopped by several feet of new snow and got lost high on a glacier in the middle of the night, I felt I got my monies worth. With the proper clothing and equipment even this type of experience is survivable and can be enjoyable.
We were back in La Paz for dinner and I went to my favorite local Chinese place for dinner on the 25th.
I came to South America to trek in Patagonia. The good season does not start until January. Now it was time to start really moving and I felt a great urge to start hurrying and get down here.
On the 26th, I wanted to take a bus to Potosi the highest city in the world (just like Lhasa, Tibet). Buses only do the 10 hour journey at night, so I had to use my special strategy. I am often told that the next bus does not go where I want, when I want. But there is always a bus going half way there soon and once I am half way there, there is usually a bus leaving soon to go the rest of the way.
So, left Sunday morning for Oruru. Then I had lunch and took an afternoon bus to Potosi I am glad I went during the day. The scenery was beautiful, even if it was indistinguishable from Arizona. You know, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid even lived around there. They also died in the dry southwestern corner of Bolivia.
In Potosi I took a tour of the silver mines. The Spanish empire, and much of the European economy for several hundred years was supported by the silver that was mined there. When an area of the mountain is no longer profitable to mine, it is turned over to a cooperative. Then members are allowed to mine the silver for themselves. They are very poor and they use the same methods that the Indian slaves used in the 1500s. They bang holes in the rock with an iron bar and a hammer. Then they drop in some dynamite and run. Later they carry out the rubble and sell it to some one with a crushing machine.
The first stop on our mine tour was the shop. They encouraged us to bring some gifts to the miners. I bought some coca leaves for them to chew, some carbonate to light their lights, a detonator cap and some dynamite. All this set be back about two dollars. I have never purchased dynamite before. I wanted to take it out to the desert and blow it up. But, I figured I would probably hurt myself with it, so in the end, I gave it away in the mine.
On the 28th I went to Uyuni and walked out to the train graveyard. They had a bunch of old trains to dispose of, so they just drove them into the desert and left them. The next day I decided to go for a walk in the desert. This area is perfectly flat and completely dry. I saw a mountain off in the distance and decided to walk to it. I walked for about six miles and I think, in the end, it did actually look a little bit closer. I learned alot about mirages and distance judging in the desert that day. I turned around and went back to town.
On the 30th, it was time to start my tour of the Salar de Uyuni, which I had tried to walk across the previous day. Our first stop was the Salt Hotel. The Salar is a huge salt flat and we saw some people collecting salt and then saw a few buildings build completely out of salt. For lunch we stopped at a small hill in the middle of flatness. We spent the night in a small town. On the 31st, we drove though some beautiful high altitude areas and stopped at some cool rock formations.
For the final night of the year, we went to a red lake. I took a nice afternoon walk and then returned to the hotel for the big night. There were about twenty tourists and maybe as many locals in the town that night. Some of the tourists were like me and wanted to be someplace with no electricity or computers. If the world ended, we wanted to be the last to know it. There was a good little party in our room and a really, really cold party outside.
The next morning, we woke up at 5 and drove off to see some boiling mud and geysers. By 7 we were at the hot springs and I splashed around until breakfast. Around eleven, we made it to the border with Chile. The Bolivian border guard tried to charge us all two dollars to get an exit stamp. A really cheap Australian gave him a very hard time and was ably backed up by the Israelis. Eventually, the price of this bit of corruption came down to one dollar. In the end some people paid and the rest of us left the country without an exit stamp.
Chile is very different from Peru and Bolivia. In Peru and Bolivia, most of the population is descended from Indians. In Chile and Argentina, I think that most of the Indians were killed or put on reservations and then large numbers of European immigrants arrived. Chile is definitely not a poor country and in many ways feels just like travelling in Australia or New Zealand.
My first stop in Chile was San Pedro de Atacama. San Pedro is a very touristy town the northern desert. Prices were very high compared to one of the cheapest countries in South America, Bolivia. A set lunch costs at least three dollars. No more fifty cent meals for me. I quickly learned that if someone is young, carrying a big backpack and looks vaguely European, they are probably Chillean. Chilleans and Argentinians travel a lot and are the most common tourists around here.
On the 2nd I went to Antofogasta, on the coast. On the 3rd, I continued south to La Serena. I decided to try what seems to be the national fast food. The only cheap food I see for sale in the streets is the Completo. The Completo turned out to be a hot dog with avocado and ketchup. The only really bad thing, besides the price of buss es, that I have found so far in Chile, is the fast food. They are big on hot dogs, hamburgers and french fries.
On the 4th, I made it to the capital. I spent two nights in Santiago. It is a very clean and modern city and the subway is great. I saw an ice cream shop with line out the door, so I decided to try some. I turns out they make chocolate chip ice cream with chocolate ice cream. I wish more places in the U.S. did that.
On the 6th, I rode a bus all day to Temuco. The next morning I did some food shopping and then went to Pucon. Pucon turned out to be a very touristy town and since I had just spent nearly two weeks racing south to start trekking, I decided not to wait any longer. I made it out to the Villarica Volcano National Park around 5 pm and walked for about thirty minutes. I found a nice place to camp and spent the night.
The next day I started my walk around the volcano for real. I went over a bunch of lava and through some trees, camped by a nice river, crossed a bunch more lava, and camped by a river. Then I walked through some more lava and then went by some more nice trees. After three days, I was on the other side of the volcano and then walked over to the next one. I spent the fifth night of my walk next to a lake. The next day it poured. I sat in the tent and read my trekking guide book. Now I want to do every trek in the book, not just the eight I had planned. In the evening it stopped raining and I went for a little 3 hour walk. Around ten pm, I joined a couple of Israelis on the other side of the lake for some pineapple.
The seventh day of the walk turned out to be perfectly clear. I had very little food left, and my pack finally felt manageable. I had lunch near a white lake and then made my way down to one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen. It was surrounded by forest and on three sides there were steep mountains and then some snow. I camped on the edge of the lake and watched the ducks until I fell asleep. In the morning it took me three hours to leave because I kept sitting down and looking around.
I finally started walking at around 11 am. I made it almost to the end by 2:30, but then found an old abandoned cherry farm. I stayed for an hour and chowed down on the cherries, while a couple of parrots in the tree yelled at me. The trail ended near the Argentinian border and the Chilean guards helped me find a ride back to Pucon. Now I can better appreciate a touristy town with lots of food and a beach.
I want to hurry up and leave and start my next hike, but I am going to try to do some kayaking first. I just finished a great eight day hike, saw almost no other people, and can not wait to do it again and again and again.
Monday, December 13, 1999
13 DEC 99
On the morning of Saturday, the 4th of December, we took a bus to Puno, on Lake Titicaca - the highest navigable lake in the world (about 3800 meters). Fiona, Sara and I hired a minivan just for ourselves and raced to the border. We got to the Bolivian border a bit before they closed and crossed over. A few minutes later we were in Copacabana, another lakeside town.
It being my birthday and all, we opted for the nice hotel. It was $22 per night, but worth it. We had a private bathroom with hot water and I even got to sleep up in a loft in a big bed.
On Sunday, we explored the town. The church was pretty nice, it had a bit of Moorish influence. They bless their cars with holy water by the church, but we missed that. By the time we got there, all we saw was a well decorated car already starting to dry.
In the afternoon we took a very slow boat out to Isla Del Sol, Island of the Sun. We had about an hour to look at a ruin and take a few photos.
Last Monday, we took the bus to the highest capital city in the world, La Paz, Bolivia. La Paz sits in a valley and has a few nice mountains on the horizon. One of them, Illampu, is very big and often visible in all of its glory from town. The city is surrounded by an incredible expanse of heavily eroded badlands, and I like badlands. I think La Paz is now my favorite Latin American capital city.
On Tuesday, Fiona and I went out to the nice suburb to shop in the Hipermercado - Hyper Market. In the afternoon I hung out with Shelly and Jodi, two other women from Melbourne, Australia. We went to the Coca Museum and I had a candy made from coca leaves. It made my tongue and cheeks go numb and my breathing increase. I also learned that Coca Cola imports several hundred tons of coca leaves each year for its soda. I think they are the only non-medical importer of coca leaves in the US.
We also went to the witch's market. When the locals build a house, they bury a llama fetus under it for good luck. The witch's market sells all different sizes of llama fetus, the biggest ones even have fur on them. They also sell pig fetus and various stuffed animals.
Fiona had been planning to join an organized tour for some time and on Wednesday morning she left for that. She is doing a Trek type tour for the next month and will end up in Tierra del Fuego, at the bottom of the continent.
I hopped on a local bus, for about 30 cents, and rode out of town to the end of the line, about an hour. My guidebook recommended a hike in the hills, but it took me a few hours to find the start of it. I never did their hike, but I enjoyed the one I did, and saw another promising hike across the valley. The only problem was a few dogs that were guarding a house I wanted to walk by. Luckily the old women and small children came out and kept the dogs under control until I passed.
On Thursday, I got organized for Friday. I organized a bike ride to Corioco and bought maps and food for a hike. That night I did not feel so well. My head hurt and I skipped dinner.
Friday morning, I was okay, but not quite up to a 50 mile bike ride. I postponed the ride and relaxed for the day. I felt fine after a while and did not skip any more meals.
Saturday I hung out, saw a movie and went on a small walk with a few people from the hotel.
Yesterday, after a late start, I took the bus back out to Apa and did the walk I saw last time I was there. I hiked up a canyon for about and hour and a half. At the top, I had planned to continue along and eventually find a snow covered mountain. Unfortunately, this was impossible. The top of the hill ended in an impassible expanse of badlands. The only way to go was back down. I walked down for an hour, stopped to watch a local soccer game in a village and then continued on back to La Paz.
Today I went to jail. A few of us walked over to the downtown jail. It was built a hundred years ago as a monastery for 800, but now it is a jail for 1400. There is an inmate there who has an American mother and has spent five years in a New York jail. For seven dollars he gives guided tours. It was not a visiting day, but one dollar for the guards got us in.
He showed us around and we learned a lot. When someone is sent to jail, it costs four dollars to get in. If they can not pay, they are locked in the kitchen for 30 days and must cook under slave like conditions. Then they are released into the jail proper. There are five sections in the jail and cost the inmates between five dollars and twenty dollars to enter. Once an inmate purchases the right to live in a certain section, he can then purchase a cell from the guards. Cells range in price from about $100 to over $5000.
The next order of business is to choose a business, one must eat after all. One guy runs a Nintendo shop. Other jobs include restaurant owner, carpenter, clothes washer, and shop owner. Our guide was also a drug dealer, telephone concession owner, liquor store owner and he had his hand in a few other things as well.
If a man can not continue to pay rent on his home while he is in jail, his family can join him. For this reason rapists are not very popular there and they must endure a rather painful sounding initiation. Many families live there and the women and children are free to come and go to school and work.
Except for the wall around the neighborhood, there was no real difference between jail and the rest of the city. They have plenty of private businesses and shops. Kids play in the street and drunk guys occasionally stagger by. The guards do not go in there and the inmates have a strict no violence rule between 6 a.m. and 5 p.m. Once the day prostitutes and visitors leave, our guide tells us, it can get fairly violent in there, but violence during the day could effect business.
Our guide needs $25,000 by February to buy a judge and get out. I wish him the best of luck.
I am trying to organize a few activities, but it is the rainy season and not many tours are running. Hopefully, I will do the bike ride and hike soon.
It being my birthday and all, we opted for the nice hotel. It was $22 per night, but worth it. We had a private bathroom with hot water and I even got to sleep up in a loft in a big bed.
On Sunday, we explored the town. The church was pretty nice, it had a bit of Moorish influence. They bless their cars with holy water by the church, but we missed that. By the time we got there, all we saw was a well decorated car already starting to dry.
In the afternoon we took a very slow boat out to Isla Del Sol, Island of the Sun. We had about an hour to look at a ruin and take a few photos.
Last Monday, we took the bus to the highest capital city in the world, La Paz, Bolivia. La Paz sits in a valley and has a few nice mountains on the horizon. One of them, Illampu, is very big and often visible in all of its glory from town. The city is surrounded by an incredible expanse of heavily eroded badlands, and I like badlands. I think La Paz is now my favorite Latin American capital city.
On Tuesday, Fiona and I went out to the nice suburb to shop in the Hipermercado - Hyper Market. In the afternoon I hung out with Shelly and Jodi, two other women from Melbourne, Australia. We went to the Coca Museum and I had a candy made from coca leaves. It made my tongue and cheeks go numb and my breathing increase. I also learned that Coca Cola imports several hundred tons of coca leaves each year for its soda. I think they are the only non-medical importer of coca leaves in the US.
We also went to the witch's market. When the locals build a house, they bury a llama fetus under it for good luck. The witch's market sells all different sizes of llama fetus, the biggest ones even have fur on them. They also sell pig fetus and various stuffed animals.
Fiona had been planning to join an organized tour for some time and on Wednesday morning she left for that. She is doing a Trek type tour for the next month and will end up in Tierra del Fuego, at the bottom of the continent.
I hopped on a local bus, for about 30 cents, and rode out of town to the end of the line, about an hour. My guidebook recommended a hike in the hills, but it took me a few hours to find the start of it. I never did their hike, but I enjoyed the one I did, and saw another promising hike across the valley. The only problem was a few dogs that were guarding a house I wanted to walk by. Luckily the old women and small children came out and kept the dogs under control until I passed.
On Thursday, I got organized for Friday. I organized a bike ride to Corioco and bought maps and food for a hike. That night I did not feel so well. My head hurt and I skipped dinner.
Friday morning, I was okay, but not quite up to a 50 mile bike ride. I postponed the ride and relaxed for the day. I felt fine after a while and did not skip any more meals.
Saturday I hung out, saw a movie and went on a small walk with a few people from the hotel.
Yesterday, after a late start, I took the bus back out to Apa and did the walk I saw last time I was there. I hiked up a canyon for about and hour and a half. At the top, I had planned to continue along and eventually find a snow covered mountain. Unfortunately, this was impossible. The top of the hill ended in an impassible expanse of badlands. The only way to go was back down. I walked down for an hour, stopped to watch a local soccer game in a village and then continued on back to La Paz.
Today I went to jail. A few of us walked over to the downtown jail. It was built a hundred years ago as a monastery for 800, but now it is a jail for 1400. There is an inmate there who has an American mother and has spent five years in a New York jail. For seven dollars he gives guided tours. It was not a visiting day, but one dollar for the guards got us in.
He showed us around and we learned a lot. When someone is sent to jail, it costs four dollars to get in. If they can not pay, they are locked in the kitchen for 30 days and must cook under slave like conditions. Then they are released into the jail proper. There are five sections in the jail and cost the inmates between five dollars and twenty dollars to enter. Once an inmate purchases the right to live in a certain section, he can then purchase a cell from the guards. Cells range in price from about $100 to over $5000.
The next order of business is to choose a business, one must eat after all. One guy runs a Nintendo shop. Other jobs include restaurant owner, carpenter, clothes washer, and shop owner. Our guide was also a drug dealer, telephone concession owner, liquor store owner and he had his hand in a few other things as well.
If a man can not continue to pay rent on his home while he is in jail, his family can join him. For this reason rapists are not very popular there and they must endure a rather painful sounding initiation. Many families live there and the women and children are free to come and go to school and work.
Except for the wall around the neighborhood, there was no real difference between jail and the rest of the city. They have plenty of private businesses and shops. Kids play in the street and drunk guys occasionally stagger by. The guards do not go in there and the inmates have a strict no violence rule between 6 a.m. and 5 p.m. Once the day prostitutes and visitors leave, our guide tells us, it can get fairly violent in there, but violence during the day could effect business.
Our guide needs $25,000 by February to buy a judge and get out. I wish him the best of luck.
I am trying to organize a few activities, but it is the rainy season and not many tours are running. Hopefully, I will do the bike ride and hike soon.
Friday, December 3, 1999
3 DEC 99
A little while after my last update, I went to the municipal sports stadium to watch a soccer game. Melgar, the home team, played the Sport Boys. Sport Boys was their real name, not a translation. It took about five minutes for the first Sport Boys player to be ejected from the game. For the next seventy minutes of play neither team did much and the crowed booed whenever Melgar slowed the game down. Eventually, the home team scored a few goals. About ten minutes before the end of the game the Sport Boys got upset with Melgar and the referees. Some sort of free for all broke out and about fifty police in full riot gear with vests, helmets, shields and guns raced out and surrounded the referees in a see of dark green. Half of the Sport Boys were ejected and the game was over.
These teams lived up to the reputation of South American soccer. Occasional bursts of brilliant play, but mostly a lot of cheap shots and fake injuries. I think the two guys who got the most exercise the whole night were the ones who ran out with the stretcher and carted people off.
On the 21st of November, Fiona and I hung out around the central plaza of Arrequipa. It was a Sunday and some military bands were strutting their stuff. In the afternoon we went to see the Peruvian movie - Panteleon y las Visadadores. It was in Spanish and we did not understand much, but Luis had previously explained the story to us and it was fairly easy to follow. It was an interesting movie about a very proper and upstanding soldier who is put in charge of setting up a prostitution service for the poor soldiers who are stationed in the jungle. I would like to see it again someday with English subtitles, or when I can understand it in Spanish.
That night we took the night train to Juliaca. We got on the train and found our seats. It did not seem to bad, but then the train started to move. My seat broke and I found myself reclining into the lap of the person behind me. He took it well and with a bit of rope I carry for emergencies such as this, we fixed my seat back. The seats were not bolted down very securely and they slammed from side to side all night. Also, the track was pretty bumpy and we were thrown forward with great frequency. The heat was turned way up, but I was able to cover the vent with my jacket. At 6:00 in the morning we arrived in Juliaca and had a three hours to hang out before our next train arrived.
At 9:00 we left Juliaca and headed for Cuzco. This train did not feel as if it bounced as much, but it did. Eventually, the cars were bouncing so much that they separated. Our car broke off from those in front of us. We stopped and watched the first class continue onwards. Perhaps because we had the kitchen in our car, they came back for us and a whole team of mechanics appeared and re-attached the trains. The cars only came apart once or twice more and we arrived in Cuzco in the early evening. We were ready for a bed and headed straight for a hotel.
We spent the next two days poking around Cuzco and getting ready for our next trek. We have a great view over the central plaza (plaza de armas) from our hotel and Cuzco is a beautiful city. It is the kind of place that weary backpackers find and stay for weeks or months to relax. Our hotel is near the top of a street that is called Resbalosa, which means slippery and it really is, after a rain. Also, since we are at over 10,000 feet, by the time we make it up to our hotel, we have to stop to catch our breath.
On Thursday, we went to the train station at six in the morning and caught a train for the mountains. We were planning on getting off the train at Kilometer 88, but the train did not stop. We finally got them to stop a little after Kilometer 89 and we hopped off. We walked back to Kilometer 88. Fiona큦 foot was still a bit suspect so we found her a porter. We walked until mid-afternoon and found a camp site. The porter went home and returned the next morning at six. Fiona had the runs, but other than that we had a good night of camping.
After a reasonably early start, we headed up to the highest point on the trail. Around noon we came to the 4200 meter high pass. After a brief rest, we headed down into the next valley for lunch. After another high pass, we descended to our next camp site. Our porter was not registered, so he returned home. The next morning, we found another porter for Fiona and walked over the final high mountain pass of the Inca Trail.
In the early afternoon we arrived at Winy Winay and set up camp in a beautiful spot. I went to check out the ruins. The Incas sure knew how to build ruins. I spent a while poking around and then went back to camp. I watched a few satellites pass overhead as I brushed my teeth. We went to bed early because our alarms were set for four o'clock the next day.
Last Sunday, after an early start, we finished off the 40 something kilometer walk. We climbed up to the Sun Gate and got our first view of the end of the trail, our goal, the Inca ruins of Machu Pichu. We stared for about fifteen minutes and then pulled out our cameras. At this point a cloud covered the ruins, so we put our cameras away and continued walking. We arrived at Machu Pichu at around eight in the morning and set off to explore. I climbed up Winy Pichu to get a better view of the place. It was a very tough climb and not many people feel like doing it after a four day walk. There was a great view from the top and I took a picture.
The big groups of tourists start arriving around eleven. Machu Pichu got very crowded. We were glad we got our pictures before the crowds got there. After lunch, we took the thirty minute bus ride down the side of the mountain to the small town of Aguas Calientes. The road has many hairpin turns, but there is a path that runs straight down the mountain. A local kid ran down the path and shouted to us at every turn. At the bottom he hopped on the bus and I gave him sixty cents. He was not out of breath and had barely broken a sweat, but I liked his approach to begging much better than the kids who just sit there on the street and don't even move.
All of the nine dollar train tickets to Cuzco were sold out. We did not want to spend the nearly thirty dollars for the luxury tourist train so we went to the local train station. It was a holiday and all of the five dollar seats were sold out. We were told we could just hop on the train and stand. We had a few hours to wait, so I grabbed a menu from a local tout and convinced a few tourists to go eat in the restaurant that I was now representing.
Eventually, the train came and about 27 billion people tried to cram on. Fiona squeezed onto the first car, but the crowd expanded and she was expelled. We found another car, further back, and got on. The conductors were very efficient at finding every body and his large package a place to stand on the train. After thirty minutes, we were packed in like sardines and the train started moving. It was very crowded and hot and tempers started to flair. The men near me took turns punching some poor guy who would not defend himself. Luckily I was far enough away not to get sprayed with blood. I have never seen such a vicious group of grandpas before. Eventually, the punchee got off and staggered off into the wilds of Peru.
At Ollaytatambo, all the tour groups got off. They take buses back to Cuzco because it is quicker. Finally, after three hours, we had a bit of space in the train. I spoke with some school children, and after a five or so hour ride, we made it back to Cuzco. It was late and after dinner we went to bed.
Monday morning we showed up at the Excel Language school to start classes. We took five days of classes from nine in the morning until one in the afternoon every day. I was the only one to sign up for the Elementary level class and learned a lot from my teacher. She loves to talk and even if I spoke perfect Spanish, I do not think I would have been able to say much in our conversations. We did a lot of exercises from a work book and never spoke in English. By the end of the week I was understanding her pretty well. Besides covering a bit of grammar, she lectured me on religion, politics, local food, abortion, pet ownership, monetary policy, the Japanese Embassy hostage crisis, her efforts to buy a piano and many other things.
Yesterday, we went on a school field trip to some Huari ruins, which pre-date the Incas by 1000 years. It was nice to go on a school outing without having to forge my mother's signature on a permission slip.
Today was the last day of class and tomorrow we head for Copacabana, on Lake Titicaca in Bolivia.
At the school, they tell me that with six weeks of one-on-one lessons and living with a local family, I would be fluent in Spanish. It is tempting and I may return someday to do just that.
These teams lived up to the reputation of South American soccer. Occasional bursts of brilliant play, but mostly a lot of cheap shots and fake injuries. I think the two guys who got the most exercise the whole night were the ones who ran out with the stretcher and carted people off.
On the 21st of November, Fiona and I hung out around the central plaza of Arrequipa. It was a Sunday and some military bands were strutting their stuff. In the afternoon we went to see the Peruvian movie - Panteleon y las Visadadores. It was in Spanish and we did not understand much, but Luis had previously explained the story to us and it was fairly easy to follow. It was an interesting movie about a very proper and upstanding soldier who is put in charge of setting up a prostitution service for the poor soldiers who are stationed in the jungle. I would like to see it again someday with English subtitles, or when I can understand it in Spanish.
That night we took the night train to Juliaca. We got on the train and found our seats. It did not seem to bad, but then the train started to move. My seat broke and I found myself reclining into the lap of the person behind me. He took it well and with a bit of rope I carry for emergencies such as this, we fixed my seat back. The seats were not bolted down very securely and they slammed from side to side all night. Also, the track was pretty bumpy and we were thrown forward with great frequency. The heat was turned way up, but I was able to cover the vent with my jacket. At 6:00 in the morning we arrived in Juliaca and had a three hours to hang out before our next train arrived.
At 9:00 we left Juliaca and headed for Cuzco. This train did not feel as if it bounced as much, but it did. Eventually, the cars were bouncing so much that they separated. Our car broke off from those in front of us. We stopped and watched the first class continue onwards. Perhaps because we had the kitchen in our car, they came back for us and a whole team of mechanics appeared and re-attached the trains. The cars only came apart once or twice more and we arrived in Cuzco in the early evening. We were ready for a bed and headed straight for a hotel.
We spent the next two days poking around Cuzco and getting ready for our next trek. We have a great view over the central plaza (plaza de armas) from our hotel and Cuzco is a beautiful city. It is the kind of place that weary backpackers find and stay for weeks or months to relax. Our hotel is near the top of a street that is called Resbalosa, which means slippery and it really is, after a rain. Also, since we are at over 10,000 feet, by the time we make it up to our hotel, we have to stop to catch our breath.
On Thursday, we went to the train station at six in the morning and caught a train for the mountains. We were planning on getting off the train at Kilometer 88, but the train did not stop. We finally got them to stop a little after Kilometer 89 and we hopped off. We walked back to Kilometer 88. Fiona큦 foot was still a bit suspect so we found her a porter. We walked until mid-afternoon and found a camp site. The porter went home and returned the next morning at six. Fiona had the runs, but other than that we had a good night of camping.
After a reasonably early start, we headed up to the highest point on the trail. Around noon we came to the 4200 meter high pass. After a brief rest, we headed down into the next valley for lunch. After another high pass, we descended to our next camp site. Our porter was not registered, so he returned home. The next morning, we found another porter for Fiona and walked over the final high mountain pass of the Inca Trail.
In the early afternoon we arrived at Winy Winay and set up camp in a beautiful spot. I went to check out the ruins. The Incas sure knew how to build ruins. I spent a while poking around and then went back to camp. I watched a few satellites pass overhead as I brushed my teeth. We went to bed early because our alarms were set for four o'clock the next day.
Last Sunday, after an early start, we finished off the 40 something kilometer walk. We climbed up to the Sun Gate and got our first view of the end of the trail, our goal, the Inca ruins of Machu Pichu. We stared for about fifteen minutes and then pulled out our cameras. At this point a cloud covered the ruins, so we put our cameras away and continued walking. We arrived at Machu Pichu at around eight in the morning and set off to explore. I climbed up Winy Pichu to get a better view of the place. It was a very tough climb and not many people feel like doing it after a four day walk. There was a great view from the top and I took a picture.
The big groups of tourists start arriving around eleven. Machu Pichu got very crowded. We were glad we got our pictures before the crowds got there. After lunch, we took the thirty minute bus ride down the side of the mountain to the small town of Aguas Calientes. The road has many hairpin turns, but there is a path that runs straight down the mountain. A local kid ran down the path and shouted to us at every turn. At the bottom he hopped on the bus and I gave him sixty cents. He was not out of breath and had barely broken a sweat, but I liked his approach to begging much better than the kids who just sit there on the street and don't even move.
All of the nine dollar train tickets to Cuzco were sold out. We did not want to spend the nearly thirty dollars for the luxury tourist train so we went to the local train station. It was a holiday and all of the five dollar seats were sold out. We were told we could just hop on the train and stand. We had a few hours to wait, so I grabbed a menu from a local tout and convinced a few tourists to go eat in the restaurant that I was now representing.
Eventually, the train came and about 27 billion people tried to cram on. Fiona squeezed onto the first car, but the crowd expanded and she was expelled. We found another car, further back, and got on. The conductors were very efficient at finding every body and his large package a place to stand on the train. After thirty minutes, we were packed in like sardines and the train started moving. It was very crowded and hot and tempers started to flair. The men near me took turns punching some poor guy who would not defend himself. Luckily I was far enough away not to get sprayed with blood. I have never seen such a vicious group of grandpas before. Eventually, the punchee got off and staggered off into the wilds of Peru.
At Ollaytatambo, all the tour groups got off. They take buses back to Cuzco because it is quicker. Finally, after three hours, we had a bit of space in the train. I spoke with some school children, and after a five or so hour ride, we made it back to Cuzco. It was late and after dinner we went to bed.
Monday morning we showed up at the Excel Language school to start classes. We took five days of classes from nine in the morning until one in the afternoon every day. I was the only one to sign up for the Elementary level class and learned a lot from my teacher. She loves to talk and even if I spoke perfect Spanish, I do not think I would have been able to say much in our conversations. We did a lot of exercises from a work book and never spoke in English. By the end of the week I was understanding her pretty well. Besides covering a bit of grammar, she lectured me on religion, politics, local food, abortion, pet ownership, monetary policy, the Japanese Embassy hostage crisis, her efforts to buy a piano and many other things.
Yesterday, we went on a school field trip to some Huari ruins, which pre-date the Incas by 1000 years. It was nice to go on a school outing without having to forge my mother's signature on a permission slip.
Today was the last day of class and tomorrow we head for Copacabana, on Lake Titicaca in Bolivia.
At the school, they tell me that with six weeks of one-on-one lessons and living with a local family, I would be fluent in Spanish. It is tempting and I may return someday to do just that.
Saturday, November 20, 1999
20 NOV 99
Fiona and I spent about ten days Lima. We stayed with Luis and hung out with him and Karem, whenever they were not too busy working.
One day I went to Luis` mother`s birthday party. It was nice to see Luis` parents again. They had lots of good food and my favorite Peruvian drink, chicha morada.
One day Fiona and I went to the Catholic University where Luis was a student and Karem is an English teacher. We were guest speakers in two of Karem`s classes. The first class was older and more advanced. They asked us questions about life in our countries and our opinions on world political events. The second class was a beginning class full of people under twenty. The guys in this class mostly asked if Fiona was a model and if they could have her phone number. I asked the students a few questions myself and learned a some interesting things about life in Peru.
I also read a few of Luis` books and explored his neighborhood. He lives in a fancy suburb and his area is full of foreign consulates and embassies.
On the 13th of November we caught a bus south. We went about four hours to Ica and then took a taxi out to Huacachina. Huacachina is a small town. They have a little lake, a few hotels and places to eat and some huge sand dunes. After dinner, I headed out into the night to explore the sand dunes. I have never seen such a large area of sand dunes. I think they went for about 30 miles to the west and probably more than one hundred miles to the north and south. I wandered off into the night and eventually it got to dark to see very far. I knew there was nothing but sand around, but I could not really make out the hills and valleys. It was fun to stroll in the moonlight and walk in the sand. After about two hours, I put my clothes back on and went back to town.
The next morning I went back out to explore some more. I went for a four hour walk in the sand dunes. I decided it would be great to return with a backpack full of food and a G.P.S. device so that the satellites could tell me how to get back after a week of wandering aimlessly. I decided I would need a gelaba, one of those middle eastern desert dresses for men, with a reinforced back and shoulders and holes in the side to attach my backpack hipbelt through. By the end of my walk, the sand was very hot and was burning my feet whenever I sunk in past the bottom of my sandals. I had to sit down and raise my feet about every five minutes to let them cool off.
After a leisurely lunch by the lake, we caught a bus. A few hours later we were in the town of Nasca. Somehow a little local kid ended up on my shoulders as we explored the town and looked for a place to eat. He tried to charge me for his guiding services and I tried to charge him a carrying fee. In the end we called it even and went our separate ways.
The next morning we got up early and went out to the airport. We took a thirty minute flight over the plateau to look at the giant geoglyphs that the ancient locals made in the desert. Besides the Nasca lines, there were many figures built on the ground. My favorite ones were the astronaut and the monkey. From the air, the entire desert appeared to be covered with figures and lines. It was impressive.
Following a late breakfast, we joined a tour to see some of the other things Nasca has to offer. Our first stop was a pottery making place. The owner is an archaeologist and figured out how the locals made pottery two thousand years ago. They showed us how the clay was prepared and shaped and how the paints were produced from local rocks and how it was fired at the end. They also taught us the ancient secret for keeping the paint bright and shiny for thousands of years. After the mineral based paints are applied and before the pots are buried and heated up for a few days, they cover the pot with nose grease. They rub a rock on their nose and then rub the pot. For the hard to reach places, they rub their nose with a narrow bone and then coat the nooks and crannies of the pottery with the nose oil. It is an interesting system and I am hard pressed to figure out not only how the ancients figured it out, but how the modern archaeologist re-discovered it.
Our next stop was the cemetery. No matter who you were, in Nasca two thousand years ago, when you died, you were entitled to a decent burial. For them, this meant that they removed your internal organs and brain. Then they scrubbed you with salt and laid you out in the hot sun for a few weeks until you were pretty well mummified. Next, you were wrapped in a bunch of cloth and carried around to all the towns and places you used to go. This way every one you knew, knew you were dead. After a month or so of this, you were buried in a small clay room, perhaps with others of your family who were already dead. To help you in the next life they also gave you some jars of food and a few hair braids for good luck.
Early this century, most of the graves were dug up and looted. The mummies were left scattered around on the ground. Five years ago they put the mummies back in the holes and that is were they are sitting now.
The final stop of our day tour was the house were they extracted gold from rocks. This was pretty interesting. We learned how they went up into the hills and carried back a bunch of rock. Next, they put the rocks in a tumbler with iron balls until they had crushed rocks. Then they put the crushed rocks in a tub with some water. They had a big round stone with a board on top of it to put in the tub also. They stood on the board and rocked the stone back and forth for about six hours. Then they had fine rock powder, which they mixed with mercury and eventually extracted the gold.
On the 16th of November I went for a walk. I have gotten into this bad habit of waking up with the chickens and the sun. I am usually awake before six in the morning. Fiona can somehow sleep for several more hours, so I have taken to going for a morning walk.
I stopped for some orange juice and bread in town and then headed east. I went through the poor end of town and through the fields in the valley. I found some ancient aqueducts and some Nasca lines that were not part of the main group that I had flown over the previous day. Then I walked along a road that had almost no traffic and headed for the hills. By about 8:30 I had gone six miles and was next to the world's largest sand dune. I was able to see it from town, but now I was next to it. I turned off the road and walked about a mile up a dry river bed and was right below the 6,000 foot pile of sand.
I had been informed that nobody took tours to the sand dune anymore because some tourist had been buried up to his neck in the sand. Apparently the sand is a bit unstable and acts like quick sand on occasion. I decided to walk around the mountain of sand, instead of climbing it. I clambered my way up a dry river bed and made my way up the neighboring mountain. After three hours, I made it to the top of the mountain behind the sand mountain. I found a dirt road and it led to a bunch of gold mines dug into the hills. I had been walking for six hours straight in the desert heat and decided to stop for a rest.
I took a twenty minute lunch break and realized that I was never going to make it all the way around the sand dune and back to town in one day. I followed the nice dirt road back in the direction of the paved road I had started the day on. After a while, the dirt road turned into a well trodden path. A little while later the well trodden path turned into a faint, but obvious trail. Eventually, the trail turned into a barely perceptible marking on the mountain side. And of course, in the end the trail disappeared and I got to make my own. I made my way down a sharply angled rock fall to the dry river that I was going to follow back to the road.
Once I got to the river bed, I headed west. It was a fairly easy descent to begin with. And, in the easy parts there was one set of footprints headed the other direction. So, I knew that I must be able to get out of the mountain in this direction. Eventually, the easy descent turned into a series of small, dry waterfalls. As I progressed, the climbs down became more challenging. I noticed that whenever it was a difficult climb down the other persons footprints would disappear, only to reappear when the going got easy again. As you would expect, I eventually came to a twenty or thirty foot cliff that was clearly impossible for me to get down. On the mountain side next to me was a path. I followed it. It was quite exposed and eventually ended about four feet from were the river bed became flat again. So, I clung to the cliff face for a little while and then jumped to a steep section of mountain nearby. I did not slip off and made my way down.
From there it was easy going again and I made it back to the road, six miles from town after six hours of walking in the mountains. I was ready for a ride home, but there was no traffic and nothing to do but walk. After three miles, a taxi came by and I gladly paid the thirty cents for a ride back the last four miles. I walked for well over eleven hours in the hot sun and was good and tired.
It was good that I was tired, because instead of a bed this night, I had a night bus to Arrequipa. We paid for the Royal Class bus and it was worth it. At more than $17 for only ten hours it was not cheap, but it was comfortable. Besides the normal hostess and movie, it had very comfortable seats. They were extra wide and reclined an incredible distance. A foot board popped out of the bottom of the seat in front of me and I was able to sleep most of the night.
Shortly after sunrise, on the 17th, we arrived in Peru's second largest city, Arrequipa. We took a taxi to the hotel and relaxed on the roof until a room opened up. We slept the rest of the morning and organized our Colca Canyon trip in the afternoon.
Wednesday morning, we got on a tour bus and drove around the huge volcanoes that tower over the city. We stopped to watch some people shaving the wool off of a few vicuna. Vicuna, along with alpacas and llamas are related to camels and live in the high dry areas. The roads were very bad and it we did not get over the 15,000 foot pass and into Chivay until well after three in the afternoon. Before dinner, we went to the local hot springs pool and soaked. After sunset, I walked into the hills and found a seat. I looked at the sky for about two hours, but the promised meteor shower never materialized.
The next day we left the hotel at 6:30 am and drove out to the Condor Cross. We waited for an hour and a half, but the condors never showed up. Still, it was nice to sit around and look down into one of the deepest canyons in the world, Colca Canyon. The rest of the day was spent returning to Arrequipa and stopping at a few small villages.
Yesterday was spent wandering the streets of Arrequipa and doing not much. Tomorrow we plan on taking the train to Cuzco and getting ready to walk the Inca trail to Machu Pichu.
I have now been in Peru for a month and have a few observations to offer.
The U.S. dollar seems to be a close second as the national currency, after the Nuevo Sol. In all the commercial districts the streets are packed with people holding a great big wad of local money and a calculator. They are there to change money. The big supermarkets, most chain stores, and many local shops also accept U.S. dollars. This seems to be a normal part of the Peruvian economy and is not related to tourism. It seems to me that locals with money are just as likely to have a few Dollars in their wallets as Soles. The bank machines even offer the options of taking out your money in Dollars or Soles.
I have enjoyed the local food. My favorite drink is now Chicha Morada. It is a purple drink, made from purple corn and is heavily spiced. I tried cuy, which is guinea pig. It is a specialty of the people living in the Andes. It has dark meat and reminded me of duck. It was okay. My favorite food is ceviche. Rather than cook their fish, octopus, conch, squid and other seafoods with heat, they cook them chemically with some very acidic lemon. I like it. I have not yet tried anticuchos, but I will soon. I have to wait until Fiona is somewhere else, because she does not want to watch me eat grilled cow heart. The local way to prevent altitude sickness is with tea made of coca leaves. I don't think it has much more taste than hot water with sugar in it, but at least it is a warm drink in the high, cold mountains.
One day I went to Luis` mother`s birthday party. It was nice to see Luis` parents again. They had lots of good food and my favorite Peruvian drink, chicha morada.
One day Fiona and I went to the Catholic University where Luis was a student and Karem is an English teacher. We were guest speakers in two of Karem`s classes. The first class was older and more advanced. They asked us questions about life in our countries and our opinions on world political events. The second class was a beginning class full of people under twenty. The guys in this class mostly asked if Fiona was a model and if they could have her phone number. I asked the students a few questions myself and learned a some interesting things about life in Peru.
I also read a few of Luis` books and explored his neighborhood. He lives in a fancy suburb and his area is full of foreign consulates and embassies.
On the 13th of November we caught a bus south. We went about four hours to Ica and then took a taxi out to Huacachina. Huacachina is a small town. They have a little lake, a few hotels and places to eat and some huge sand dunes. After dinner, I headed out into the night to explore the sand dunes. I have never seen such a large area of sand dunes. I think they went for about 30 miles to the west and probably more than one hundred miles to the north and south. I wandered off into the night and eventually it got to dark to see very far. I knew there was nothing but sand around, but I could not really make out the hills and valleys. It was fun to stroll in the moonlight and walk in the sand. After about two hours, I put my clothes back on and went back to town.
The next morning I went back out to explore some more. I went for a four hour walk in the sand dunes. I decided it would be great to return with a backpack full of food and a G.P.S. device so that the satellites could tell me how to get back after a week of wandering aimlessly. I decided I would need a gelaba, one of those middle eastern desert dresses for men, with a reinforced back and shoulders and holes in the side to attach my backpack hipbelt through. By the end of my walk, the sand was very hot and was burning my feet whenever I sunk in past the bottom of my sandals. I had to sit down and raise my feet about every five minutes to let them cool off.
After a leisurely lunch by the lake, we caught a bus. A few hours later we were in the town of Nasca. Somehow a little local kid ended up on my shoulders as we explored the town and looked for a place to eat. He tried to charge me for his guiding services and I tried to charge him a carrying fee. In the end we called it even and went our separate ways.
The next morning we got up early and went out to the airport. We took a thirty minute flight over the plateau to look at the giant geoglyphs that the ancient locals made in the desert. Besides the Nasca lines, there were many figures built on the ground. My favorite ones were the astronaut and the monkey. From the air, the entire desert appeared to be covered with figures and lines. It was impressive.
Following a late breakfast, we joined a tour to see some of the other things Nasca has to offer. Our first stop was a pottery making place. The owner is an archaeologist and figured out how the locals made pottery two thousand years ago. They showed us how the clay was prepared and shaped and how the paints were produced from local rocks and how it was fired at the end. They also taught us the ancient secret for keeping the paint bright and shiny for thousands of years. After the mineral based paints are applied and before the pots are buried and heated up for a few days, they cover the pot with nose grease. They rub a rock on their nose and then rub the pot. For the hard to reach places, they rub their nose with a narrow bone and then coat the nooks and crannies of the pottery with the nose oil. It is an interesting system and I am hard pressed to figure out not only how the ancients figured it out, but how the modern archaeologist re-discovered it.
Our next stop was the cemetery. No matter who you were, in Nasca two thousand years ago, when you died, you were entitled to a decent burial. For them, this meant that they removed your internal organs and brain. Then they scrubbed you with salt and laid you out in the hot sun for a few weeks until you were pretty well mummified. Next, you were wrapped in a bunch of cloth and carried around to all the towns and places you used to go. This way every one you knew, knew you were dead. After a month or so of this, you were buried in a small clay room, perhaps with others of your family who were already dead. To help you in the next life they also gave you some jars of food and a few hair braids for good luck.
Early this century, most of the graves were dug up and looted. The mummies were left scattered around on the ground. Five years ago they put the mummies back in the holes and that is were they are sitting now.
The final stop of our day tour was the house were they extracted gold from rocks. This was pretty interesting. We learned how they went up into the hills and carried back a bunch of rock. Next, they put the rocks in a tumbler with iron balls until they had crushed rocks. Then they put the crushed rocks in a tub with some water. They had a big round stone with a board on top of it to put in the tub also. They stood on the board and rocked the stone back and forth for about six hours. Then they had fine rock powder, which they mixed with mercury and eventually extracted the gold.
On the 16th of November I went for a walk. I have gotten into this bad habit of waking up with the chickens and the sun. I am usually awake before six in the morning. Fiona can somehow sleep for several more hours, so I have taken to going for a morning walk.
I stopped for some orange juice and bread in town and then headed east. I went through the poor end of town and through the fields in the valley. I found some ancient aqueducts and some Nasca lines that were not part of the main group that I had flown over the previous day. Then I walked along a road that had almost no traffic and headed for the hills. By about 8:30 I had gone six miles and was next to the world's largest sand dune. I was able to see it from town, but now I was next to it. I turned off the road and walked about a mile up a dry river bed and was right below the 6,000 foot pile of sand.
I had been informed that nobody took tours to the sand dune anymore because some tourist had been buried up to his neck in the sand. Apparently the sand is a bit unstable and acts like quick sand on occasion. I decided to walk around the mountain of sand, instead of climbing it. I clambered my way up a dry river bed and made my way up the neighboring mountain. After three hours, I made it to the top of the mountain behind the sand mountain. I found a dirt road and it led to a bunch of gold mines dug into the hills. I had been walking for six hours straight in the desert heat and decided to stop for a rest.
I took a twenty minute lunch break and realized that I was never going to make it all the way around the sand dune and back to town in one day. I followed the nice dirt road back in the direction of the paved road I had started the day on. After a while, the dirt road turned into a well trodden path. A little while later the well trodden path turned into a faint, but obvious trail. Eventually, the trail turned into a barely perceptible marking on the mountain side. And of course, in the end the trail disappeared and I got to make my own. I made my way down a sharply angled rock fall to the dry river that I was going to follow back to the road.
Once I got to the river bed, I headed west. It was a fairly easy descent to begin with. And, in the easy parts there was one set of footprints headed the other direction. So, I knew that I must be able to get out of the mountain in this direction. Eventually, the easy descent turned into a series of small, dry waterfalls. As I progressed, the climbs down became more challenging. I noticed that whenever it was a difficult climb down the other persons footprints would disappear, only to reappear when the going got easy again. As you would expect, I eventually came to a twenty or thirty foot cliff that was clearly impossible for me to get down. On the mountain side next to me was a path. I followed it. It was quite exposed and eventually ended about four feet from were the river bed became flat again. So, I clung to the cliff face for a little while and then jumped to a steep section of mountain nearby. I did not slip off and made my way down.
From there it was easy going again and I made it back to the road, six miles from town after six hours of walking in the mountains. I was ready for a ride home, but there was no traffic and nothing to do but walk. After three miles, a taxi came by and I gladly paid the thirty cents for a ride back the last four miles. I walked for well over eleven hours in the hot sun and was good and tired.
It was good that I was tired, because instead of a bed this night, I had a night bus to Arrequipa. We paid for the Royal Class bus and it was worth it. At more than $17 for only ten hours it was not cheap, but it was comfortable. Besides the normal hostess and movie, it had very comfortable seats. They were extra wide and reclined an incredible distance. A foot board popped out of the bottom of the seat in front of me and I was able to sleep most of the night.
Shortly after sunrise, on the 17th, we arrived in Peru's second largest city, Arrequipa. We took a taxi to the hotel and relaxed on the roof until a room opened up. We slept the rest of the morning and organized our Colca Canyon trip in the afternoon.
Wednesday morning, we got on a tour bus and drove around the huge volcanoes that tower over the city. We stopped to watch some people shaving the wool off of a few vicuna. Vicuna, along with alpacas and llamas are related to camels and live in the high dry areas. The roads were very bad and it we did not get over the 15,000 foot pass and into Chivay until well after three in the afternoon. Before dinner, we went to the local hot springs pool and soaked. After sunset, I walked into the hills and found a seat. I looked at the sky for about two hours, but the promised meteor shower never materialized.
The next day we left the hotel at 6:30 am and drove out to the Condor Cross. We waited for an hour and a half, but the condors never showed up. Still, it was nice to sit around and look down into one of the deepest canyons in the world, Colca Canyon. The rest of the day was spent returning to Arrequipa and stopping at a few small villages.
Yesterday was spent wandering the streets of Arrequipa and doing not much. Tomorrow we plan on taking the train to Cuzco and getting ready to walk the Inca trail to Machu Pichu.
I have now been in Peru for a month and have a few observations to offer.
The U.S. dollar seems to be a close second as the national currency, after the Nuevo Sol. In all the commercial districts the streets are packed with people holding a great big wad of local money and a calculator. They are there to change money. The big supermarkets, most chain stores, and many local shops also accept U.S. dollars. This seems to be a normal part of the Peruvian economy and is not related to tourism. It seems to me that locals with money are just as likely to have a few Dollars in their wallets as Soles. The bank machines even offer the options of taking out your money in Dollars or Soles.
I have enjoyed the local food. My favorite drink is now Chicha Morada. It is a purple drink, made from purple corn and is heavily spiced. I tried cuy, which is guinea pig. It is a specialty of the people living in the Andes. It has dark meat and reminded me of duck. It was okay. My favorite food is ceviche. Rather than cook their fish, octopus, conch, squid and other seafoods with heat, they cook them chemically with some very acidic lemon. I like it. I have not yet tried anticuchos, but I will soon. I have to wait until Fiona is somewhere else, because she does not want to watch me eat grilled cow heart. The local way to prevent altitude sickness is with tea made of coca leaves. I don't think it has much more taste than hot water with sugar in it, but at least it is a warm drink in the high, cold mountains.
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