I got to sleep in until almost 8 today--exciting, until you realize that that´s 4 in the morning Oly time. So while we are in Bolivia and it´s Bolivian time that matters (to us) I wouldn´t have minded getting up around 9.
First thing we walked to the Athina travel agency, a couple of blocks away, and got tickets for Sucre for tomorrow morning. Becaues I will not longer have reliable internet, posts will be infrequent but lengthy.
It´s a fifty-minute plane trip to Sucre from La Paz, a big improvement over a fourteen-hour busride. After getting our tickets we walked to a big suspension bridge, called the Punta de las Americas, and to a small textile museum showing weavings made by the local indigenous people.
Back to our apartment was a long ways uphill and downhill (one of the major disadvantages of walking in La Paz is that you have to go steeply down- AND steeply uphill to reach almost any destination), and we were ready for a late lunch when we arrived. We finished watching one of the movies we bought--the Bourne Legacy, not nearly as good as the original trilogy--with lunch, and my parents napped while I practiced.
This evening we hiked to yet another new part of the city, and happened across a huge market and the blackmarket strip. There we bought a second pair of binoculars for birds, and were amazed at the quality of the merchandise.
On our way home, we passed the city jail. The jail is located in the middle of a block, and beneath it small stands sell liquor. People line the streets selling things, and there are many people who will shine shoes. The shoe-shiners often where face masks, because though they need money for their families it is a job that is often looked down upon by Bolivians and they wish to remain unrecognized.
The walk we took this evening was one of the best. It is almost impossible to descripe walking up a cobblestone street packed with people selling hundreds of onions, hundres of ears of corn, thousands of potatoes, fruit, rope made out of skin, shoes, clothes, jam, bread, eggs, and almost anything else.
Happy birthday Leah and, in case I can´t get online in the next couple of days, happy birthday McKenzie and happy Hanukkah.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Copacabana to La Paz
Bolivia is said to be the South American country with the worst wi-fi for a reason. I have a few days to catch up on...
On Tuesday we slept in a little later than before--I think it was almost 7 when we started moving. In the morning we went up a hill deemed too steep to drive on judging by the barriers on it, to a place that I do not know the name of, other than it was between two hills named the Santa Barbara and the San Cristobal. The stations of the cross formed a trail up the hill, but they were weatherworn and in Spanish so except for a notable few we were unable to understand more than what the pictures depicted. San Cristobal was almost twice the height of Santa Barbara, and was the only hill with structures on top. There were stone stairs leading up to the crest, where vendors sold candles and religious items and a series of crosses depicted some part of Jesus´s life and small altars surrounded the places where there wasn´t a sheer drop. We sat on a concrete step for a few minutes to catch our breathe and look at the lake and the town before starting back to our hotel. Though the way down was easier in the altitude, it was so steep and covered in shale in parts that we needed to be very careful in parts, and our progress was slow.
Again we had a rather lazy day--our hotel room was too inviting to spend much time away. That evening my parents walked to the cemetery while I practiced and struggled to no avail with the internet, and went for dinner at the hotel right next to us for fondue. Apparently I have had fondue once in Portland, but I have no recollection of this. Whether as a second experience or a first, dinner was a good one.
That night a couple of the malnourished cats around the hotel climbed on our roof to find a way in (they had learned that we will give them bits of cheese). At first we had no idea what the noise was, and it was only when a cat bolted across the window sill that we realized that they were cats, not humans. It may have been that the cats were really klutzy, but the acoustics had made it sound like the wait of the things above us were going to make the roof come down.
Almost every night that we were in Copacabana clouds rolled in in the evenings and we had a thunderstorm. The very first night that we were there, the lightning and thunder came directly above us and, though we appreciated the rain, the noise was earsplitting and the light blinding. Luckily, it moved on fairly quickly leaving only some torrential rain.
Wednesday dawned cloudy and cool, and we spent the morning packing up. At 11 we had to leave our room so that it could be cleaned, so we walked back to the cemetery. The resident dog decided to follow us, and she would run ahead and wait for us at the corners to see which way we were going. It didn´t seem as if dogs would be allowed in the cemetery, but the gates were open and we had no real say in what she did.
Cemeteries here are so different from those at home. The graves seem much more personal, with mounded earth and fresh flowers. I am told that the tradition is to bury people after death, but then to dig them up within the next ten years, cremate them, then place the ashes in cubbies around the graves and decorate them (the cubbies). It seemed common to see a miniature bottle of coke in the shrine.
The bus to La Paz didn´t leave until 1.30, but by the time we walked to the cemetery, took the dog home (once she founded a large bone she was eager to return with it before another dog tried to take it from her), walked to a cafe, were followed by the dog (who had deposited her bone), had some refreshments, were watched mournfully by the dog while we sat, walked back to the hotel to collect our luggage, deposited the dog with her people so she didn´t follow us again, and walked to the bus station we didn´t have much time to spare.
One notable thing that all the guidebooks failed to mention about the busride was that we have to cross a river on the way. It wasn´t a big deal, the bus got on a ferry that appeared barely large enough or strong enough to hold it, and the people got on a few small boats, but somebody probably should have mentioned it. On the way across the people sitting next to us asked if we were from Oregon. They had guessed based on the brand logos they saw; Columbia and Carhartt, and on the ukelele (which they were wrong about--there was no ukelele, only a violion and it was in a mandolin case).
We arrived in La Paz around 5, and it was fairly simple to get a taxi to the apartment where we are staying. Yet again there is awful wireless connection, but we are lucky enough to have a computer.
The nearest supermarket is less than a block away, so we went there to get some provisions for the night after exploring the area a bit. While walking, we stopped at a street vendor selling illegaly-copied movies, 3 for 10 Bolivianos (about a dollar fifty, and we got them because the apartment also comes with a TV and DVD player--it is amazing how good budget lodgings can be; we were anticipating much worse accomodations) and they have good picture quality and are in English. This means that I can watch the final Bourne movie without waiting for sixth months--though I have low hopes because of the new director and the different main character.
This morning bread was delivered to our door. A lovely detail, but one that woke me up a lot earlier than would have been appreciated.
For a few hours a little before midday we explored a lot more of the downtown area. On our way to the first market we stopped in a Franciscan church, and took a skybridge across the street. Getting to the bridge was fun, because you passed through aisles lined with dozens of tiny food-shops, with many of the owners leaning out and waving and smiling at you, saying ´Pasen, pasen amiga´, and you know that they really just want to sell you food but still.
The streets were bustling, and it is not surprising to see kids my age out every day at any time. It was maybe an hour to the ´Witches Market´, which was a little disappointing. They sold mainly clothes and brightly-coloured weavings, but many of the stores did have dead vicunas and llama fetuses hanging outside.
Circling back from the witches market, we walked to an old and pretty part of town and through a park littered with a few hundred pigeons vying for food. People sell these jello things with whipped-cream on top in cups in the park, and I think that before we leave I´ll have to set aside my scruples and try them.
The old section of the city wasn´t disappointing, and we found the music museum that the people who identified as North Westerners had recommended. It was purely happenstance that we came across it, as we thought that it was on a different side of town completely. It was even more serendipitous that we saw the people from the boat inside.
I have way too many pictures from this museum to post, but I´ll choose the best ones. Incidentally, the apostrophe is pointing the wrong way because I can´t figure out how to make it do otherwise on the different keyboard. The museum was not disappointing at all, and we saw a lot of bizarre and beautiful instruments. There were a few early violins, and the shape is completely different from the ones that we see today. We also saw a double-sided violin invented by this man who invented most of the oddest instruments that we saw. Not quite sure how you would play it.
On a side note, most of the Stradivarius violins now are very different from the originals. They are a lot more modern than they were initially made to be.
Once out of the musem we stopped for Coca Cola (no Inca Cola in Bolivia) at a small cafe, and continued on our route home. An indoor market that we stopped in was very interesting, particularly once we passed through the hanging meats. We got some ingredients for lunch--tomatoes, basil (the word for which it was relieving to find that we weren´t mispronouncing, one of the women selling items just didn´t know what it was), and avocadoes. Walking up the street on the way back to the apartment, we passed a row of people (mostly men, the jobs here seem to be pretty divided) with bags out on the curb identifying them as plumbers or electricians or other handymen. I think that when you need, say, and electtrician, you go up do somebody with an electrician´s bag in front of them and hire them.
There was also a ´shortcut´ that we found on the way back, that took us up 59 steep stairs then down almost twice that amount for no apparent reason. We probably took a more circuitous route back to our neighborhood supermarket (cheese, we bought bread from a vendor on the street) than was strictly necessary, but it was so fun to see more of the city. La Paz is definitely my favorite stop so far.
Now lots of randomly-ordered pictures. Also, below is my entry for Machu Picchu.
On Tuesday we slept in a little later than before--I think it was almost 7 when we started moving. In the morning we went up a hill deemed too steep to drive on judging by the barriers on it, to a place that I do not know the name of, other than it was between two hills named the Santa Barbara and the San Cristobal. The stations of the cross formed a trail up the hill, but they were weatherworn and in Spanish so except for a notable few we were unable to understand more than what the pictures depicted. San Cristobal was almost twice the height of Santa Barbara, and was the only hill with structures on top. There were stone stairs leading up to the crest, where vendors sold candles and religious items and a series of crosses depicted some part of Jesus´s life and small altars surrounded the places where there wasn´t a sheer drop. We sat on a concrete step for a few minutes to catch our breathe and look at the lake and the town before starting back to our hotel. Though the way down was easier in the altitude, it was so steep and covered in shale in parts that we needed to be very careful in parts, and our progress was slow.
Again we had a rather lazy day--our hotel room was too inviting to spend much time away. That evening my parents walked to the cemetery while I practiced and struggled to no avail with the internet, and went for dinner at the hotel right next to us for fondue. Apparently I have had fondue once in Portland, but I have no recollection of this. Whether as a second experience or a first, dinner was a good one.
That night a couple of the malnourished cats around the hotel climbed on our roof to find a way in (they had learned that we will give them bits of cheese). At first we had no idea what the noise was, and it was only when a cat bolted across the window sill that we realized that they were cats, not humans. It may have been that the cats were really klutzy, but the acoustics had made it sound like the wait of the things above us were going to make the roof come down.
Almost every night that we were in Copacabana clouds rolled in in the evenings and we had a thunderstorm. The very first night that we were there, the lightning and thunder came directly above us and, though we appreciated the rain, the noise was earsplitting and the light blinding. Luckily, it moved on fairly quickly leaving only some torrential rain.
Wednesday dawned cloudy and cool, and we spent the morning packing up. At 11 we had to leave our room so that it could be cleaned, so we walked back to the cemetery. The resident dog decided to follow us, and she would run ahead and wait for us at the corners to see which way we were going. It didn´t seem as if dogs would be allowed in the cemetery, but the gates were open and we had no real say in what she did.
Cemeteries here are so different from those at home. The graves seem much more personal, with mounded earth and fresh flowers. I am told that the tradition is to bury people after death, but then to dig them up within the next ten years, cremate them, then place the ashes in cubbies around the graves and decorate them (the cubbies). It seemed common to see a miniature bottle of coke in the shrine.
The bus to La Paz didn´t leave until 1.30, but by the time we walked to the cemetery, took the dog home (once she founded a large bone she was eager to return with it before another dog tried to take it from her), walked to a cafe, were followed by the dog (who had deposited her bone), had some refreshments, were watched mournfully by the dog while we sat, walked back to the hotel to collect our luggage, deposited the dog with her people so she didn´t follow us again, and walked to the bus station we didn´t have much time to spare.
One notable thing that all the guidebooks failed to mention about the busride was that we have to cross a river on the way. It wasn´t a big deal, the bus got on a ferry that appeared barely large enough or strong enough to hold it, and the people got on a few small boats, but somebody probably should have mentioned it. On the way across the people sitting next to us asked if we were from Oregon. They had guessed based on the brand logos they saw; Columbia and Carhartt, and on the ukelele (which they were wrong about--there was no ukelele, only a violion and it was in a mandolin case).
We arrived in La Paz around 5, and it was fairly simple to get a taxi to the apartment where we are staying. Yet again there is awful wireless connection, but we are lucky enough to have a computer.
The nearest supermarket is less than a block away, so we went there to get some provisions for the night after exploring the area a bit. While walking, we stopped at a street vendor selling illegaly-copied movies, 3 for 10 Bolivianos (about a dollar fifty, and we got them because the apartment also comes with a TV and DVD player--it is amazing how good budget lodgings can be; we were anticipating much worse accomodations) and they have good picture quality and are in English. This means that I can watch the final Bourne movie without waiting for sixth months--though I have low hopes because of the new director and the different main character.
This morning bread was delivered to our door. A lovely detail, but one that woke me up a lot earlier than would have been appreciated.
For a few hours a little before midday we explored a lot more of the downtown area. On our way to the first market we stopped in a Franciscan church, and took a skybridge across the street. Getting to the bridge was fun, because you passed through aisles lined with dozens of tiny food-shops, with many of the owners leaning out and waving and smiling at you, saying ´Pasen, pasen amiga´, and you know that they really just want to sell you food but still.
The streets were bustling, and it is not surprising to see kids my age out every day at any time. It was maybe an hour to the ´Witches Market´, which was a little disappointing. They sold mainly clothes and brightly-coloured weavings, but many of the stores did have dead vicunas and llama fetuses hanging outside.
Circling back from the witches market, we walked to an old and pretty part of town and through a park littered with a few hundred pigeons vying for food. People sell these jello things with whipped-cream on top in cups in the park, and I think that before we leave I´ll have to set aside my scruples and try them.
The old section of the city wasn´t disappointing, and we found the music museum that the people who identified as North Westerners had recommended. It was purely happenstance that we came across it, as we thought that it was on a different side of town completely. It was even more serendipitous that we saw the people from the boat inside.
I have way too many pictures from this museum to post, but I´ll choose the best ones. Incidentally, the apostrophe is pointing the wrong way because I can´t figure out how to make it do otherwise on the different keyboard. The museum was not disappointing at all, and we saw a lot of bizarre and beautiful instruments. There were a few early violins, and the shape is completely different from the ones that we see today. We also saw a double-sided violin invented by this man who invented most of the oddest instruments that we saw. Not quite sure how you would play it.
On a side note, most of the Stradivarius violins now are very different from the originals. They are a lot more modern than they were initially made to be.
Once out of the musem we stopped for Coca Cola (no Inca Cola in Bolivia) at a small cafe, and continued on our route home. An indoor market that we stopped in was very interesting, particularly once we passed through the hanging meats. We got some ingredients for lunch--tomatoes, basil (the word for which it was relieving to find that we weren´t mispronouncing, one of the women selling items just didn´t know what it was), and avocadoes. Walking up the street on the way back to the apartment, we passed a row of people (mostly men, the jobs here seem to be pretty divided) with bags out on the curb identifying them as plumbers or electricians or other handymen. I think that when you need, say, and electtrician, you go up do somebody with an electrician´s bag in front of them and hire them.
There was also a ´shortcut´ that we found on the way back, that took us up 59 steep stairs then down almost twice that amount for no apparent reason. We probably took a more circuitous route back to our neighborhood supermarket (cheese, we bought bread from a vendor on the street) than was strictly necessary, but it was so fun to see more of the city. La Paz is definitely my favorite stop so far.
Now lots of randomly-ordered pictures. Also, below is my entry for Machu Picchu.
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| One of the food-stalls that we walked to on our way to the bridge |
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| Our bathroom in Copacabana |
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| The hill we hiked to on Tuesday, as seen past a church |
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| Plaza Murillo, showing La Paz cathedral and one of the government ministry buildings that line the square |
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| Copacabana cemetery |
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| The impractical double-sided violin, showing a bit of the impractical double-sided guitar (both are stringed on either side) |
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| An Aymara woman outside a cathedral in Copacabana |
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| Copacabana as seen from above |
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| A market street-scene in Copacabana |
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| The music musem, culminating in a five-necked guitar |
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| The graveyard shrines for the veterans of the Chaca (Bolivia and Paraguay, 1935 to 1938) war, in the cemetery in Copacabana |
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| On top of the San Cristobal hill |
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| From the music musem, bottles filled to varying heights with water (hit them with a mallet and they make different notes) |
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| The view from our hotel in Copacabana |
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| One stall at the witches market--the things hanging from the ceiling are dead camelids |
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| A bunch of stalls selling the cereal ´choclo´ in Copacabana |
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Machu Picchu
To get to the bus to Machu Picchu on time, we had to wake up around 4.45. The bus upwards took about 30 minutes, and we briefly considered that we should have walked up until we saw the extent of the switchbacks it was forced to make.
We arrived in Machu Picchu around 6, and we didn't have to stand for long in the line. There weren't many tourists there then, as we had arrived on the first bus, so for all that the city was mainly covered in mist and llamas it was particularly beautiful.
For about two hours we walked around the city (ample time to take a few hundred photos) and upon completing the tour went back out the check-point thing and had a snack. Then we went back in and walked around some more. The city is built on the edge of a cliff pretty much on either side, triggering my parents' vertigo and requiring me to stand a good ways pack from the edge. It is surrounded by jungle stretching below, except for a patch of terraces which were cleared a few hundred meters below the main construction. This led me to believe that there are many more terraces than are visible, and the jungle is still overgrowing them.
We walked up a path towards the temple of the sun. Thanks to the couple-foot-wide path and the sheer drop, we didn't make it all the way but had a beautiful view of the city and were able to take a few pictures reminiscent of the traditional postcard view of Machu Picchu. These views are reached by taking a much less steeper path than that necessary to climb Huancayo Picchu (the mountain nearest to Machu Picchu), and it is free to get there.
Rather than attempt to describe what we saw, I am going to post a LOT of pictures, and not put captions on them because it is too much of a formatting hassle. Most of them are fairly self-explanatory.
The train back back to Cusco was supposed to leave around 3.20, so after visiting the ruins we had a lot of time to kill. We went to an internet cafe, and to another cafe, then back to our hotel. The hotel people let us sit in the lobby despite having checked out hours earlier, and we did so until it was time to go to the train station.
For some reason unexplained to us, the train didn't leave until 4.20 and, not wanting to miss it, we spent the intervening hour at the rather crammed and spartan station.
The ride was pretty surreal. We followed the same route that we had taken previously, only in reverse and well past Ollantaytambo. During the trip they played the exact same songs that they had before repeatedly. At one point they also had a dancer dressed up in traditional costume come out and dance through the aisle, as well as a fashion show put on by the attendents modelling alpaca and vicuna merchandise.
We arrived in Machu Picchu around 6, and we didn't have to stand for long in the line. There weren't many tourists there then, as we had arrived on the first bus, so for all that the city was mainly covered in mist and llamas it was particularly beautiful.
For about two hours we walked around the city (ample time to take a few hundred photos) and upon completing the tour went back out the check-point thing and had a snack. Then we went back in and walked around some more. The city is built on the edge of a cliff pretty much on either side, triggering my parents' vertigo and requiring me to stand a good ways pack from the edge. It is surrounded by jungle stretching below, except for a patch of terraces which were cleared a few hundred meters below the main construction. This led me to believe that there are many more terraces than are visible, and the jungle is still overgrowing them.
We walked up a path towards the temple of the sun. Thanks to the couple-foot-wide path and the sheer drop, we didn't make it all the way but had a beautiful view of the city and were able to take a few pictures reminiscent of the traditional postcard view of Machu Picchu. These views are reached by taking a much less steeper path than that necessary to climb Huancayo Picchu (the mountain nearest to Machu Picchu), and it is free to get there.
Rather than attempt to describe what we saw, I am going to post a LOT of pictures, and not put captions on them because it is too much of a formatting hassle. Most of them are fairly self-explanatory.
The train back back to Cusco was supposed to leave around 3.20, so after visiting the ruins we had a lot of time to kill. We went to an internet cafe, and to another cafe, then back to our hotel. The hotel people let us sit in the lobby despite having checked out hours earlier, and we did so until it was time to go to the train station.
For some reason unexplained to us, the train didn't leave until 4.20 and, not wanting to miss it, we spent the intervening hour at the rather crammed and spartan station.
The ride was pretty surreal. We followed the same route that we had taken previously, only in reverse and well past Ollantaytambo. During the trip they played the exact same songs that they had before repeatedly. At one point they also had a dancer dressed up in traditional costume come out and dance through the aisle, as well as a fashion show put on by the attendents modelling alpaca and vicuna merchandise.
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| Machu Picchu when we first arrived |
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| A view from the path to the temple of the sun--the taller mountain in the background with out a peak is Huancayo Picchu |
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| I just included this to show the contrasting construction types |
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| Looking down from Machu Picchu (BIG drop) |
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| Part of a temple |
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| A postcard view from the road to the temple of the sun |
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| Some temple |
Monday, December 3, 2012
Yesterday and Today (I'm so creative)
We have arrived in the small town of Copacabana, right on Lake Titicaca. The Bolivian side of the lake is much more beautiful than the part of the Peruvian one that we saw--hills rise up from the lake and Copacabana is so much less polluted than Puno.
The bus ride took about 4.5 hours, but that included the border stop. It went a lot smoother than expected--we first visited the police office where they checked to see that we weren't fleeing the country, then we went to get our passports stamped to exit Peru, then we walked across the border and got our passports stamped to enter Bolivia. On the way across we saw something that we first thought to be a funeral procession, because there was a parade of people dressed in black versions of their native clothes (which is really something to see--they favor the brightest colors) but later thought to be a sort of greeting for dignitaries, because there seemed to be two lines of people shaking hands and wearing sashes and making speeched. Really it could have been just about anything.The Bolivian traditional dress most commonly seen is worn by the Aymará people, but really just dates from the 1700s when the Spanish king ordered that they dress a certain way. Since then it has become an integral part of the culture. The women wear bowlers that balance precariously on their heads with our help by a hatpin, and cover these in plastic bags when it rains. They wear shawls and sweaters; the shawls could be homespun or they could be gaudy and covered in sequins. Barring the bowlers, which are usually a dark green or brown, their clothes are brilliant colors. The skirts range in shades, but most seem to be made from a shimmery sort of material. All the skirts the women wear have vertical pleats, but only the married women wear horizontal pleats.Arriving in Copacabana it was a short but uphill walk to our hotel. The place where we are staying is basically two rooms plus a bathroom, but two stories. The room upstairs has a bed and table, and downstairs is a kitchenette, my bed, a fireplace, some chairs, and a large glass window. The building is build right on the ground so it has no insulation, but the walls are built around the rocks that were already there. The shower is made of stone, and the sinks are wooden. After our experience in Puno (somehow one of the more pricey things that we have stayed in to date) this was a great place to land. We will spend 3 nights here before moving on to La Paz.I should note that I am writing this on Sunday, but we have fairly nonexistent wifi so I won't be able to post until tomorrow.Now it is Monday, and I am editing this again because it is a little too much hassle to create another email and send it to myself and block and copy and reformat it and etc., because that is what I have had to be doing. This morning we woke up around 5.30, but made up for it by having an indolent morning. Around maybe 8-ish, I'm really not sure, we went out for a walk. We were looking for a place where there are some Incan ruins carved in the stone so that, at the solsitice, the light will shine through just so, but it wasn't the solstice so it wasn't as impressive as it might have been. It took us a little while to find it, because the only sign was set far back from the street and also so weatherworn that it was illegible. There were stairs to the point where the rocks were, but it was uphill and we were feeling the altitude.On the way back we stopped in the cathedral, which is beautiful but also quite bare in many areas, and in a few of the streets that make up the market. There we got some cereal things that people sell huge amounts of (picture later), bread, eggs, tomatoes, and a bag of milk (very weird to carry).Excepting the cereal, eggs, and bread, we bought the rest of the food at the 'supermarket', which is different from the street markets only by the fact that the vendors have a roof above them. To get to the main part of the supermarket, you need to pass through an aisle created by the people selling meat. Walking by the unrefrigerated bloody carcasses is most definitely NOT a pleasant experience.Once we arrived home we had the best breakfast since arriving on South America--salsa (fresh, though you can buy it in bags at the supermarket) and potatoes. We had a pretty low-key rest of the day, albi intersperced with bouts of wrangling the wifi. It wouldn't normally matter so much except that there are a couple of problems with the furnace back in Oly (it is not working). My parents are at an internet cafe now dealing with that, and I'm hoping that our on-again off-again wifi will not disappoint when I need to post this.
Referring back to the subject of food, we are very excited to find unflavored yogurt here.
Also, below are my final entries. for the Lares trek (you didn't get away so easily).
Also, below are my final entries. for the Lares trek (you didn't get away so easily).
End of Lares Trek
Lares Trek Day 2:
We woke up around 5 in the morning; breakfast was banana pancakes. Drank lots of coca tea for the altitude.
We had a very long slog of 5 hours to the lunch break, but the major ascent was even until the afternoon (only a minor one in the morning). Often it was too much work climbing to enjoy the scenery.
After a big uphill, a big downhill, and a medium uphill we reached lunch, utterly exhausted. We were nodding off while Hudson (our guide) told us about the Incas and some Russian tourists who carried their own supply of vodka. Three little girls played in a pool of frigid water outside. Despite misgivings--misgivings not helped by the candy wrappers on the trail--we gave them candy from the stash we were told to bring.
Miraculously recharged after lunch and an attempted nap we continued going up the pass. This was the highest point in our trek--4500 meters at the top, and a climb of 700. Lots of snow at the top. Then a long descent, camping the second night perched above a valley and sheltered by some big rocks. Attempts to communicate our desire for tea in our tent were unavailing. Semolina soup and faux meat for supper. The three of us slept in the same tent and were marginally warmer. That night it started out with thunder and lighting, but switched to snow. We woke to two or three inches.
Lares Trek Day 3:
Porridge in a metal cup and a salty omelet for breakfast, and my mother averted a caffeine headache with 5 bags of tea. Then a quick march of about two hours downhill to the village where we were to meet our car to Ollantay. We waited a couple of hours once we were there, inducing grumbling about not having slept later and the needlessly fast pace of our walk. Saw a sow and her piglets, a beautiful foal, and a friendly german-sheperd-like dog. Lunch was in a grassy area next to a little soccerfield, than a farewell to our horseman. All our gear and the three of us crammed into the back of a station wagon, while in the front sat the driver, Hudson, and our cook sitting on the gear-shift. Car safety is not a big priority here--most cars don't have seatbelts, and I am quickly losing the habit of looking for it.
In Ollantay we had refreshments at a restaurant we had visited on our last trip there. We took packer lunches with us to Aguas Calientes, and it was really nice to sit outside and look at the ruins until it was time to head to the train station. The trainride was unremarkable, but it tracked a rushing river and we got to see the 82 KM marker, the start of the Incan trail. It lasted about an hour and half, but they had only a few songs that played over, and over, and over.
The train station in Aguas Calientes is a tourist trap--you step off the train and right into a maze of people selling you things. Fortunately, we found our way out and to our hotel without too much trouble. We crashed that night, enjoying the shower (that acually had more pressure than a dripping faucet!) and running water and lack of sleeping bags-on-the-ground.
The train station in Aguas Calientes is a tourist trap--you step off the train and right into a maze of people selling you things. Fortunately, we found our way out and to our hotel without too much trouble. We crashed that night, enjoying the shower (that acually had more pressure than a dripping faucet!) and running water and lack of sleeping bags-on-the-ground.
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| At the top of our highest pass, 4500 meters |
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| After (due to an error of the STUPID STUPID STUPID computer this is out of order) |
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| Before |
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Incan Express
Tonight we are in Puno, on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca. A wild city, with streets filled with women in native dress selling their wares or attending weddings in outrageously fancy dresses plus bowler hats, three wheeled motor rickshaws, bicycle rickshaws and, of course, cars, buses, trucks, dogs, cats, pedestrians, and peddlers of all types. When we arrived, we drove through a parade of women doing traditional dances and men marching with their traditional instruments (literally through, the bus just cut across just before the women), down a street lined with furniture on the sidewalk -- couches and dining room sets and a parrot on one side, stacks of colorful mattresses on the other -- then through the Saturday mercado which went on for many long narrow blocks, and on to the lake where the bus station is located. The city is not nearly as beautiful as Cusco, with its tiled roofs and Incan paths. We plan only to overnight here before heading on to Bolivia tomorrow on the 7.30 bus.
This morning we woke up early again (the latest I've slept in by a couple hours in the last two weeks was 7), and boarded the bus to Puno. We made 5 stops on the way, the first one at the "Andean Sistine Chapel". We spent about 45 minutes there, and it was incredibly inricate and beautiful. Originally all the walls were painted with murals and some were still visible, but as the church got more funds they began to cover these up with paintings and gold leaf. Like almost all of the Spanish churches, this was built on top of an old Incan shrine in the 17th centure. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take any pictures and there is no website with multiple pictures that I could find.
After another couple of hours in the bus we stopped in a town to look at the only surviving two-story Incan structure and some store-houses and houses for nobles.
We stopped for a buffet lunch around 11.30, and were excited to see fresh lettuce. Salads are one thing that I really miss here. While we ate there was some traditional Andean music playing, and it is beautiful but I will shed no tears if I never hear another Andean pipe in my life.
At the highest point the bus stopped for pictures, but it was not particularly impressive so we stayed in the car. Then, maybe 2 hours before we reached Puno, we stopped at a small town to visit a musem. They had a few small rooms with pottery or weavings or mummies in them, as well as a few domesticated vicunas. This is a gap in my narrative: allow me to take a brief interlude and explain the camelids of Peru. First there is the llama, which is used for weaving but does not have particularly fine fur. You can shave a llama once a year. Llamas can carry no more than ten kilos. They are distinguished from the alpacas because they do not have hair on their faces. Alpacas can be shaved every year, but their fur grows coarser each time so the owner has to decide how often to do it. They cannot carry much weight at all. Then there are the vicunas some other animal, neither of which are domesticated. The vicunas have very very fine fur, but it is quite expensive because they have to be caught before they are shaved, and they only grow fur on their stomachs and that can only be shaved once every three years. I do not know anything about the fourth type of camelid.
So anyways, we saw the vicunas. They have really beautiful eyes, and enjoy eating carrots.
We arrived in Puno a little after five, and took a taxi to our rather dismal hotel. Almost immediately we walked back to the bus station to get our tickets to Copacabana for the morning, and took a motor-rickshaw to our hotel, then went out for dinner (pizza).
It seems hard to believe that we've been in Peru for a month and a day, but we are saying goodbye to it tomorrow. Tonight I am to tired to add another installment of our Lares trek, but will continue tomorrow.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Lares Trek Day 1
So, last night, we returned to Cusco from the rainforest and, before that, hiking in the Andes and visiting Machu Picchu. This means that I have a couple hundred pictures to post, and will probably take several posts to talk about everything.
Starting on November 19: we woke up around 4.15 in the morning and packed our bags to go on the Lares trek--20.5 miles long, but feels like longer because you hike up and down and up and down and up and down, and the altitude makes it hard to breathe. The car had a little trouble finding where we were staying, but at aroung 5.15 we were on our way. Then it was three hours in the car in the mountains to a small field near a village called where we started our hiking. (I apologize for any typos that remain after my proofreading--I am speed-typing this while being dictated to).
Day 1--Cusco to Quishuarani to Cuncani
The first part of the drive was on a paved road to Calca, where we stopped at a market with chicken feet and freshly killed animal parts on display, and went upstairs to a counter to breakfast. There was coffee with milk, tall glasses of boiled milk with small pitchers of coffee concentrate on the side. I suppose that if you like coffee this would be very delicious, but...
After Calca the road was rough dirt and rocks, and steeply harepinned for a while. It's a little crazy to see flowering cactus, bougainvillea, and flowers that look kind of like trumpets at this altitude, but we did; even saw a huge palm tree. We briefly had pavement, and I saw in the distance, clinging to the side of the mountain, what looked like a walking path. Pretty soon we were driving on it as it curled its way the high point--4480 meters. There was snow there, and a bunch of alpacas, and we stopped to take a couple of pictures. The road was wide enough for our car anyways, and we only passed one car going in the opposite direction: some piece of equipment probably headed out to clear the rockslides. Many many rockslides and forded rivers later, one where the waterfall hit the road only a few inches from where we crossed, the smooth dirt road changed to a rocky one. We reached our destination soon afterwards. It was a small field, near a village called Quishuarani where we geared up. A woman from the village came up to sell us hats and scarves, and though it was freezing we figured that we would warm up once we began hiking.
Starting on November 19: we woke up around 4.15 in the morning and packed our bags to go on the Lares trek--20.5 miles long, but feels like longer because you hike up and down and up and down and up and down, and the altitude makes it hard to breathe. The car had a little trouble finding where we were staying, but at aroung 5.15 we were on our way. Then it was three hours in the car in the mountains to a small field near a village called where we started our hiking. (I apologize for any typos that remain after my proofreading--I am speed-typing this while being dictated to).
Day 1--Cusco to Quishuarani to Cuncani
The first part of the drive was on a paved road to Calca, where we stopped at a market with chicken feet and freshly killed animal parts on display, and went upstairs to a counter to breakfast. There was coffee with milk, tall glasses of boiled milk with small pitchers of coffee concentrate on the side. I suppose that if you like coffee this would be very delicious, but...
After Calca the road was rough dirt and rocks, and steeply harepinned for a while. It's a little crazy to see flowering cactus, bougainvillea, and flowers that look kind of like trumpets at this altitude, but we did; even saw a huge palm tree. We briefly had pavement, and I saw in the distance, clinging to the side of the mountain, what looked like a walking path. Pretty soon we were driving on it as it curled its way the high point--4480 meters. There was snow there, and a bunch of alpacas, and we stopped to take a couple of pictures. The road was wide enough for our car anyways, and we only passed one car going in the opposite direction: some piece of equipment probably headed out to clear the rockslides. Many many rockslides and forded rivers later, one where the waterfall hit the road only a few inches from where we crossed, the smooth dirt road changed to a rocky one. We reached our destination soon afterwards. It was a small field, near a village called Quishuarani where we geared up. A woman from the village came up to sell us hats and scarves, and though it was freezing we figured that we would warm up once we began hiking.
So, we started to hike and after the first few feet we couldn't believe how difficult it was. We were all gasping for air. In the beginning we had to stop every five minutes or so to catch our breath. Our guide, Hudson, told us that at least part of it was because we had driven up from Cusco and hadn't stopped to acclimate. That made sense, because the walking got easier on the way.
Most of the moring was a climb, first to a lake and then to our first pass. After hiking just a little way from the village, we were enveloped on a cloud and couldn't see much more then a few shadowy llamas on every side. It was a six hundred meter elevation gain to the pass (3500 where we started and 4100 at the pass). We stopped at a large lake a couple hundred meters below the pass to wait for the horses carrying our stuff, and got coca leaves to chew on to try and prevent some of the lightheadedness we were feeling. They must have helped, but still it was pretty tough getting up the pass.
Once on the other side, a string of lakes lay before us down in the valley and we only had to walk another two hours or so downhill to reach the tent where we had lunch. The food was very good, and we were near a small waterfall and river so the setting was very beautiful. We had intermittent rain that day, as well as the residual dampness of standing in clouds. On the way down we saw seven wild chinchillas and two of the andean turkeys, plus several of the andean flickers and a few caracaras.
After lunch a downhill walk to the night's camp. We saw an andean eagle on that leg, and yet more llamas and alpacas and sheep (for the entirety of our trek they were our near-constant companions). We can now tell the difference between them (llamas do not have hair on their faces or necks).
The small village where we camped, called Cuncani, consisted of a few farms scattered near a river. Our tents where on a hill next to a house, surrounded by a heckuva lot of sheep. We had dinner inside a little stone house, and there was an hole-in-the-ground bathroom next to where we camped. My mother and I slept in one small tent and my father slept in a second. He was even colder than we were.
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| Looking down on lakes from our first pass. We ate lunch just past the last one |
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| A picture from the highest point in our car-ride--4480 meters |
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| A view of the place where we ate lunch, as seen descending towards it |
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| A view of the Sacred Valley from a place we stopped during the ride |
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| Another picture from the highest point in our car-ride--4480 meters |
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| A new-born alpaca and its mother |
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| Sitting in the sun after lunch |
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| One of the wild chinchillas we saw |
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| The sheep invading our camp |
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| Some snowy peaks |
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| A view of the market where we ate lunch |
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