From Puno we caught the bus to Cusco, a very pretty seven hour journey through lush green Peruvian farmlands dotted with cows, sheep and women working the fields dressed in their bright embroidered outfits and elaborate hats. We got to Cusco in the afternoon and checked into Casa Grande, where our private double room with breakfast, free internet, tv and ensuite was a bargainous 7 pounds each. Then we wandered around the beautiful town, centred around the Plaza de Armas (why does no one ever mention how gorgeous Cusco is? All monasteries and churches and lit up fountains and colonial architecture) before finding a British pub where we had a roast dinner and read English papers and magazines - quite the treat! Later we checked out the cobbled side streets of Cusco, some of them with original Inca walls, and found the most incredible little sandwich shop in Plazoleta San Blas called Juanitos. Best philly cheese sandwiches we have ever eaten in our lives. If you´re ever in Cusco, GO!
The next day it was a very early start for our big day in Macchu Picchu. We left the hostel at 5.45am to head to Poroy station just outside Cusco, and caught the three hour Peru Rail train to Macchu Picchu Pueblo station (previously Aguas Calientes). And thanks to my wonderful, wonderful parents we weren´t in economy class for once, we went in the Vistadome class which meant a breakfast of bread, fruit, juices and coca tea on the train. The tracks follow the Rio Urubamba all the way through Ollantaytambo to Macchu Picchu, and it´s the only way of getting there unless you do the Inca trail, as the valley gets so narrow through the mountains. Once there you take a 25 minute bus journey up to the ruins which was the first of many hair raising parts of the day. The road winds higher and higher and higher around a mountain until it reaches the top where you get off to explore Macchu Picchu, which is just breathtaking.
Even though it is actually lower than Cusco (about 2500 metres) it feels so much higher as you´re right at the top of a mountain (god knows how the Inca´s got up there to make all this stuff in the first place) and by the entrance you get a panoramic view of the ruins below which is just mindblowing. I was a bit scared by the broken railing we saw on the way in, but actually that was the safest part of the whole place, nowhere else has any railings at all. You are left at the complete mercy of the place, with 3000 metre sheer drops on the sides of the pathways (I had horrible visions of one of us tripping over our shoelaces). But the upside is that the landscape looks completely untouched and natural so you can imagine it just as it was centuries ago. So we wandered through the enormous ruins of the Temple of the Sun, Ancient Cemeteries, Royal Tomb, Palace, Prison Quarters and more, all flanked by the imposing backdrop of Huayna Picchu peak, and lots of llamas hanging around the munching on the grass.
After that we decided to take a trail marked the Inca Bridge trail. BIG mistake. I have never been so terrified in all my life. I can categorically state that the Incas did not suffer from vertigo. This few feet wide path clings to the edge of the mountains with sheer thousand metre drops on one side, and it has only very low stone walls for about three metres of it, the rest has nothing. I suppose I should have been suspicious when a man in a little booth made us sign in (presumably so if someone falls off they know about it). I´ve never been scared of heights before but this was the most jelly legged I´ve ever been, and about five times I stopped and told Danny I couldn´t do it anymore and we´d have to turn back, but I do so hate being defeated so we trudged on, especially as all the people coming back kept saying ´not far,´just a couple more minutes.´ There were also builders working on the track who seemed completely oblivious to the height, leaning over the edge to tamper with bits of rock, at one point I couldn't help but screech at one of them to come away from the edge when I was sure he was going to fall to his death. And the climax of all this? the path just gets narrower and narrower until you can see in the distance a tiny wooden plank which joins it to the other side of the mountain (you can´t walk this bit but you can see that the Incas did). The Incas were mad. Anyway, we sweatily made our way back, with me freezing just a few times and declaring I couldn´t go any further, and I have never been so happy to see the ground in all my life. Moral of the story? Don´t take the ground for granted, it is excellent.
We then caught the bus back down the mountain to Macchu Picchu Pueblo and strolled around the markets there, before heading back to the train station for the three and a half hour return journey (where we were treated to Peruvian dancing and a fashion show of all the latest Alpaca designs, modelled on the train staff. Absolutely hilarious and much more fun than fashion week!) We met a lovely Australian lady on the train who was with her sister and son who had just done the Inca trail. She has been living in South America for the past five years and told us all about Chile (where we are headed today) sorted us out with extra food when we were hungry, gave me a book, and then when we arrived at Poroy persuaded her hotel-transfer driver to take us too, so we got a free trip back to the hostel. She was a great mum-substitute for the day!
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Saturday, 21 November 2009
Lake Titicaca, Peru...
Right well we didn´t get to go to Sopocachi... I`m not going to dwell on it i´ll just quickly say that as soon as I got better, Danny got horribly ill, so much so that we had to have the Bolivian doctor come round to the hostel. But, a few antibiotics later and he is fine, so all good.
The next day we set off for Puno in Peru. The bus stopping at the border town on Desagudero for entry and exit stamps which as usual was a bit of a faff, first we made our way through the throngs to Bolivian immigration, then over to an enormous queue on the Peruvian side before those of us who had been on the same bus realised we had no idea how we were supposed to find it again. Luckily a while later the bus turned up, with the whole process taking about two hours before we were back on our way. We arrived at Puno in the afternoon and checked into the Qoni Wasi hostel and then had a great lunch on the balcony in the sunshine at a restaurant called Balconys of Puno, our first proper meal since sicknesses. We chatted lots to our Peruvian waiter and then headed off to book a trip to Lake Titicaca for the next day.
The transfer to the port picked us up at 6.50am this morning so it was a very early start, then we made our way onto the motor boat (reclining seats inside and a deck at the top), and headed for our first stop, the man-made Uros floating islands. It is very bizarre to be floating through the sapphire blue waters of the lake and then suddenly see 60 small islands made of totora reeds, covered in little houses and teepees made of reeds, full of people cooking on, weaving with, and eating the reeds, while others float past in boats made of reeds. We disembarked on a little island with 6 families on it and it was very odd to walk on at first, really springy. The president of the island (each island has a president and mayor) then gave us a demonstration of how they create the islands, and anchor them so they don´t float into the Bolivian side of the lake, as none of the islanders have passports! He also said if they don´t like their neighbours they can move their islands, or for big parties or weddings join two islands together for dancing. The floating islands are inhabited by Aymara speaking indigenous people (they also speak Spanish) who wear elaborate, bright costumes and, the women also showed us their embroideries dedicated to Pachamama or Mother Earth, and let us take a peek inside their tiny houses made of reeds. I couldn't help but think they must get very cold at night! And it's so strange once you've left that all the islanders still there, that that life is their day to day reality.
With that we set off for the two hour journey to the permanent island of Taquile, inhabited by indigenous Quechuas. The island is like something out of a fairytale, or lord of the rings, with the men and women all wearing the traditional dress they have worn for centuries, the women with a black cloak over their head complete with big bright pom poms if they are married, and smaller ones if they are single. The men weave their own hats and wear a particular type of red, patterned hat if they are married, and with a white section if single. The children also wear hats made in the shape of an inca flower. First we headed up a stony path (very tough when you´re on the world´s highest navigable lake at 3810 metres) to a local family's house at the top, where they treated us to music and a demonstration of traditional dance, and then lunch, which consisted of the best soup i´ve ever tasted (made with quinoa), as well as trout from the lake and a cup of pepperminty Murya tea made from a herb that grows on the island and is said to combat altitude sickness. Next we headed up further to the main square, the Plaza de Armas where the local children sold us brightly coloured bracelets and we took in the beautiful view. It`s interesting that the islanders life expectancy is 80-85 as they live very healthy lives and only eat meat on special occasions. Finally we walked along the island to the port by the sparkly blue lake and headed back on the boat for the 3 hour journey to Puno.
The next day we set off for Puno in Peru. The bus stopping at the border town on Desagudero for entry and exit stamps which as usual was a bit of a faff, first we made our way through the throngs to Bolivian immigration, then over to an enormous queue on the Peruvian side before those of us who had been on the same bus realised we had no idea how we were supposed to find it again. Luckily a while later the bus turned up, with the whole process taking about two hours before we were back on our way. We arrived at Puno in the afternoon and checked into the Qoni Wasi hostel and then had a great lunch on the balcony in the sunshine at a restaurant called Balconys of Puno, our first proper meal since sicknesses. We chatted lots to our Peruvian waiter and then headed off to book a trip to Lake Titicaca for the next day.
The transfer to the port picked us up at 6.50am this morning so it was a very early start, then we made our way onto the motor boat (reclining seats inside and a deck at the top), and headed for our first stop, the man-made Uros floating islands. It is very bizarre to be floating through the sapphire blue waters of the lake and then suddenly see 60 small islands made of totora reeds, covered in little houses and teepees made of reeds, full of people cooking on, weaving with, and eating the reeds, while others float past in boats made of reeds. We disembarked on a little island with 6 families on it and it was very odd to walk on at first, really springy. The president of the island (each island has a president and mayor) then gave us a demonstration of how they create the islands, and anchor them so they don´t float into the Bolivian side of the lake, as none of the islanders have passports! He also said if they don´t like their neighbours they can move their islands, or for big parties or weddings join two islands together for dancing. The floating islands are inhabited by Aymara speaking indigenous people (they also speak Spanish) who wear elaborate, bright costumes and, the women also showed us their embroideries dedicated to Pachamama or Mother Earth, and let us take a peek inside their tiny houses made of reeds. I couldn't help but think they must get very cold at night! And it's so strange once you've left that all the islanders still there, that that life is their day to day reality.
With that we set off for the two hour journey to the permanent island of Taquile, inhabited by indigenous Quechuas. The island is like something out of a fairytale, or lord of the rings, with the men and women all wearing the traditional dress they have worn for centuries, the women with a black cloak over their head complete with big bright pom poms if they are married, and smaller ones if they are single. The men weave their own hats and wear a particular type of red, patterned hat if they are married, and with a white section if single. The children also wear hats made in the shape of an inca flower. First we headed up a stony path (very tough when you´re on the world´s highest navigable lake at 3810 metres) to a local family's house at the top, where they treated us to music and a demonstration of traditional dance, and then lunch, which consisted of the best soup i´ve ever tasted (made with quinoa), as well as trout from the lake and a cup of pepperminty Murya tea made from a herb that grows on the island and is said to combat altitude sickness. Next we headed up further to the main square, the Plaza de Armas where the local children sold us brightly coloured bracelets and we took in the beautiful view. It`s interesting that the islanders life expectancy is 80-85 as they live very healthy lives and only eat meat on special occasions. Finally we walked along the island to the port by the sparkly blue lake and headed back on the boat for the 3 hour journey to Puno.
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
La Paz, Bolivia...
Well, I just wanted to do another post because I was feeling quite inspired by the Bolivian people. Had some coca tea this morning and felt much better, so we headed out into the city for lunch at a lovely little place called Alexander Coffee, my first solid food for three days, yes! Then wandered very, very slowly around the city, checking out the colonial architecture along Calle Jaen, then to the Plaza Murillo which has even more pigeons than Trafalgar Square, and all the kids were letting them land on them, yuk, then to the Plaza San Francisco and up the incredibly steep Calle Sagarnaga to Gringo Alley and the Witches Market, where you can get the most beautiful Bolivian textiles for next to nothing. Oh, and the odd dried llama fetus if that takes your fancy! Back at the hostel now, needed to have a lie down from the altitude, and we're going to have trout from Lake Titicaca for dinner and spend the evening in the bar.
But anyway, my point was that La Paz, and Bolivia as a whole must be a very difficult place to live in. It's the poorest country in South America and the people have been worn ragged by poverty, but what strikes me is how they just 'get on with it.' You don't see people lying naked in the street begging and groaning, (and there was a fair bit of that in Brazil), you see the people trying desperately hard to make a living. All the women sit on the street with their babies in slings selling fruits or saltenas or woven textiles and they all dress very proudly in their elaborate pleated skirts and bowler hats and long plaits. But it must be incredibly hard, the altitude is punishing, it's below freezing at night, the pollution in La Paz is hideous and alot of men still work in the mines. Makes me think how lucky we are and how much more resilient we could be.
We're off to explore the posher, lower neighbourhood of Sopacachi tomorow, La Paz is shaped like a big bowl with the poorer houses clinging to the perilously steep cliffs up the sides of the city, and the more wealthier residents living at the bottom. Then on Friday we head to Puno in Peru to see Lake Titicaca.
But anyway, my point was that La Paz, and Bolivia as a whole must be a very difficult place to live in. It's the poorest country in South America and the people have been worn ragged by poverty, but what strikes me is how they just 'get on with it.' You don't see people lying naked in the street begging and groaning, (and there was a fair bit of that in Brazil), you see the people trying desperately hard to make a living. All the women sit on the street with their babies in slings selling fruits or saltenas or woven textiles and they all dress very proudly in their elaborate pleated skirts and bowler hats and long plaits. But it must be incredibly hard, the altitude is punishing, it's below freezing at night, the pollution in La Paz is hideous and alot of men still work in the mines. Makes me think how lucky we are and how much more resilient we could be.
We're off to explore the posher, lower neighbourhood of Sopacachi tomorow, La Paz is shaped like a big bowl with the poorer houses clinging to the perilously steep cliffs up the sides of the city, and the more wealthier residents living at the bottom. Then on Friday we head to Puno in Peru to see Lake Titicaca.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Tupiza & Uyuni, Bolivia...
Right again I am a little behind with things as I've been in the desert! The border crossing between La Quiaca and Villazon was a little hairy, we got our entry and exit stamps easily enough, but then we looked in the guidebook and realised that Villazon doesn't have any ATMs and neither of us had any cash. Not that Villazon was a bad place, its just a dusty, bustling frontier town and we had no desire to stay there, just wanted to get on to Tupiza. So anyway, we asked a friendly looking policeman and he pointed us in the direction of an ATM, which must have been added since the book was written, phew, and then went off to the bus station.
In Argentina the bus station is a very slick, organised operation so we were a little bewildered when we got there to people shouting 'Tupiza! Tupiza!' Anyway, it was getting dark so we hopped on a bus and kept our fingers crossed. Which wasn't much help, as there then proceeded to be an enormous electrical storm, which made the dirt track roads virtually impassable. The bus even slid into a ravine on the side of the road and tipped sideways just to the point before it would have toppled over. Then we were stopped for half an hour while the road was being cleared ahead, all in the pitch black darkness with our fingers crossed that we were in fact heading for Tupiza. It's times like these that you have to master your calmness. And I think we both coped admirably well!
A few hours later we arrived, and the hostel was a nice little place right by the bus station, and 30 Bolivianos (about 3 pounds a night) with a double bed and en suite which would never be possible in Brazil or Argentina. We organised a horseriding trip with the guy at our reception for the next day and finally went to sleep, exhausted.
In the morning we got up and had breakfast (included in the price), and were then taken to a farm where we were met by a guide (well, a young looking boy) with three (lets be honest, slightly mangey looking) horses. Never having got on a horse before in my life and without helmets or any of that health and safety nonsense, I was a little apprehensive, as was Danny, (don't tell him I said that), as we trotted off into the barren desert, also known as the Bolivian 'badlands'. Needn't have worried though, we soon got used to the horses and the landscape was incredible, all burnt red and rainbow coloured rock, giant cacti and huge canyons set against a blazing bright blue sky. It's also the place where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid died. By the end of the day I had even jumped over a stream on my horse (not out of choice exactly, he decided to go, so I went with him!)
We spent the rest of the day checking out the little town and taking in a huge fiesta that went on from about 2pm til 2am (Bolivian's take their partying seriously) with singing and dancers and drummers all wearing traditional and hugely elaborate costumes. And perhaps weirdest of all was wandering down the street to hear an English voice go 'Danny! Holly!' And there were Ed and Kim, a couple we had met in Iguacu falls in Brazil, thousands of miles away! They were also with an Australian couple that we had met on the horseriding trip earlier in the day. Small world! So we caught up with them and they told us they were suffering quite badly with altitude sickness (it's about 3500 metres there) and Ed's blood pressure had gone right up so he was being kept an eye on by doctors. Danny was also feeling a bit headachey after the exertion of the altitude and horseriding, but I was cocky as you like, sure it wasn't going to affect me... Ha...
The next day we took the incredibly bumpy 7 hour bus ride to Uyuni, home to the Salt Flats. Again it was a pretty hairy journey, travelling through unsealed dirt tracks up high in the mountains with vertical drops of thousands of feet on either side. All the locals nodded off straight away but Danny and I stayed awake with tension, gripping our armrests for safety! Thankfully, we made it to Uyuni with no trouble and then headed to the Hotel Avenida hostel, again only 3 pounds a night, and went to Cordillera travel, who had been recommended to us, to book our tour of the Salt Flats for the next day. Usually people take 4 day tours but it's only the first day you visit the Salar de Uyuni, the rest is lagoons and geysers which we'll see in San Pedro de Attacama in Chile so we opted for a one day tour and set off the next day in our Lexus jeep, nice.
Not so nice that I started to feel horrendously sick just as we reached the enormous expanse of the Salar miles and miles and miles from anywhere. But even while vomiting behind the salt hotel I couldn't help but marvel at the landscape. The Salar is the remnants of an ancient lake and absolutely enormous, and so blindingly white it's almost hallucenogenic. We also stopped at a local market in a remote village where the women with their long plaits, bowler hats and babies tied around their waists in bright coloured blankets were selling their local wares (so strange to think people actually live there), saw a volcano and the Cemetery de Tren which is an old railway line that hundreds of years ago ran to Chile, but is now disused and just full of old decaying trains. We stopped for lunch, well, everyone else stopped for lunch, I lay down in the back of the jeep feeling sorry for myself, and then headed for our last stop by which point I couldn't get out of the car but figured I'd seen enough anyway, so I lay there sweating and chewing coca leaves that a French guy had given me as I assumed I had altitude sickness and they are supposed to be a good natural remedy. I also had a raging temperature so some Japanese boys gave me the Japanese equivalent of a Kool 'n' Soothe head patch (from that annoying advert) an Argentine girl gave also gave me a sickness tablet, and the driver some aspirin. They were all so sweet it made me cry, you'll have to let me off on that one, I was feeling very emotional!
Back in Uyuni I was still feeling horrendous, and thanks to all the medicine, on a different planet. Still, we had no choice but to get on our overnight bus to La Paz which we'd booked earlier when I was feeling fine, and things went from bad to worse! The first four hours were ridiculously bumpy, so much so that if you got in a comfortable position it immediately knocked you out of it, plus because it gets so cold the kindly driver had whacked the heating up which with my temperature made me feel as if I was about to spontaneously combust. Lets also just say thank god there was a toilet on board.
12 hours later we arrived miraculously in grey, rainy La Paz, with me looking and feeling like absolute death! We grabbed a cab to the hostel which we wouldn't normally do but I was feeling so dreadful we decided to treat ourselves, and for the rest of today I have been lying in bed sleeping off what I think is a combo of altitude sickness and food poisoning. No more street Saltenas for me! At breakfast here they do mate de coca tea which is supposed to be a good herbal remedy so I'll try some of that in the morning and hopefully will be well enough to walk, very slowly, around the city and maybe head to the witches market tomorrow. Just trying to remind myself right now that we travellers have to take the rough with the smooth, and this was pretty much inevitable. Right, thanks for listening. Bet you enjoyed that one didn't you...
In Argentina the bus station is a very slick, organised operation so we were a little bewildered when we got there to people shouting 'Tupiza! Tupiza!' Anyway, it was getting dark so we hopped on a bus and kept our fingers crossed. Which wasn't much help, as there then proceeded to be an enormous electrical storm, which made the dirt track roads virtually impassable. The bus even slid into a ravine on the side of the road and tipped sideways just to the point before it would have toppled over. Then we were stopped for half an hour while the road was being cleared ahead, all in the pitch black darkness with our fingers crossed that we were in fact heading for Tupiza. It's times like these that you have to master your calmness. And I think we both coped admirably well!
A few hours later we arrived, and the hostel was a nice little place right by the bus station, and 30 Bolivianos (about 3 pounds a night) with a double bed and en suite which would never be possible in Brazil or Argentina. We organised a horseriding trip with the guy at our reception for the next day and finally went to sleep, exhausted.
In the morning we got up and had breakfast (included in the price), and were then taken to a farm where we were met by a guide (well, a young looking boy) with three (lets be honest, slightly mangey looking) horses. Never having got on a horse before in my life and without helmets or any of that health and safety nonsense, I was a little apprehensive, as was Danny, (don't tell him I said that), as we trotted off into the barren desert, also known as the Bolivian 'badlands'. Needn't have worried though, we soon got used to the horses and the landscape was incredible, all burnt red and rainbow coloured rock, giant cacti and huge canyons set against a blazing bright blue sky. It's also the place where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid died. By the end of the day I had even jumped over a stream on my horse (not out of choice exactly, he decided to go, so I went with him!)
We spent the rest of the day checking out the little town and taking in a huge fiesta that went on from about 2pm til 2am (Bolivian's take their partying seriously) with singing and dancers and drummers all wearing traditional and hugely elaborate costumes. And perhaps weirdest of all was wandering down the street to hear an English voice go 'Danny! Holly!' And there were Ed and Kim, a couple we had met in Iguacu falls in Brazil, thousands of miles away! They were also with an Australian couple that we had met on the horseriding trip earlier in the day. Small world! So we caught up with them and they told us they were suffering quite badly with altitude sickness (it's about 3500 metres there) and Ed's blood pressure had gone right up so he was being kept an eye on by doctors. Danny was also feeling a bit headachey after the exertion of the altitude and horseriding, but I was cocky as you like, sure it wasn't going to affect me... Ha...
The next day we took the incredibly bumpy 7 hour bus ride to Uyuni, home to the Salt Flats. Again it was a pretty hairy journey, travelling through unsealed dirt tracks up high in the mountains with vertical drops of thousands of feet on either side. All the locals nodded off straight away but Danny and I stayed awake with tension, gripping our armrests for safety! Thankfully, we made it to Uyuni with no trouble and then headed to the Hotel Avenida hostel, again only 3 pounds a night, and went to Cordillera travel, who had been recommended to us, to book our tour of the Salt Flats for the next day. Usually people take 4 day tours but it's only the first day you visit the Salar de Uyuni, the rest is lagoons and geysers which we'll see in San Pedro de Attacama in Chile so we opted for a one day tour and set off the next day in our Lexus jeep, nice.
Not so nice that I started to feel horrendously sick just as we reached the enormous expanse of the Salar miles and miles and miles from anywhere. But even while vomiting behind the salt hotel I couldn't help but marvel at the landscape. The Salar is the remnants of an ancient lake and absolutely enormous, and so blindingly white it's almost hallucenogenic. We also stopped at a local market in a remote village where the women with their long plaits, bowler hats and babies tied around their waists in bright coloured blankets were selling their local wares (so strange to think people actually live there), saw a volcano and the Cemetery de Tren which is an old railway line that hundreds of years ago ran to Chile, but is now disused and just full of old decaying trains. We stopped for lunch, well, everyone else stopped for lunch, I lay down in the back of the jeep feeling sorry for myself, and then headed for our last stop by which point I couldn't get out of the car but figured I'd seen enough anyway, so I lay there sweating and chewing coca leaves that a French guy had given me as I assumed I had altitude sickness and they are supposed to be a good natural remedy. I also had a raging temperature so some Japanese boys gave me the Japanese equivalent of a Kool 'n' Soothe head patch (from that annoying advert) an Argentine girl gave also gave me a sickness tablet, and the driver some aspirin. They were all so sweet it made me cry, you'll have to let me off on that one, I was feeling very emotional!
Back in Uyuni I was still feeling horrendous, and thanks to all the medicine, on a different planet. Still, we had no choice but to get on our overnight bus to La Paz which we'd booked earlier when I was feeling fine, and things went from bad to worse! The first four hours were ridiculously bumpy, so much so that if you got in a comfortable position it immediately knocked you out of it, plus because it gets so cold the kindly driver had whacked the heating up which with my temperature made me feel as if I was about to spontaneously combust. Lets also just say thank god there was a toilet on board.
12 hours later we arrived miraculously in grey, rainy La Paz, with me looking and feeling like absolute death! We grabbed a cab to the hostel which we wouldn't normally do but I was feeling so dreadful we decided to treat ourselves, and for the rest of today I have been lying in bed sleeping off what I think is a combo of altitude sickness and food poisoning. No more street Saltenas for me! At breakfast here they do mate de coca tea which is supposed to be a good herbal remedy so I'll try some of that in the morning and hopefully will be well enough to walk, very slowly, around the city and maybe head to the witches market tomorrow. Just trying to remind myself right now that we travellers have to take the rough with the smooth, and this was pretty much inevitable. Right, thanks for listening. Bet you enjoyed that one didn't you...
Thursday, 12 November 2009
Mendoza & Salta, Argentina...
Next up, we headed by bus (a mere 22 hours) to the wine region, Mendoza. We stayed at Hostel Lao and were very happy to be greeted after another night on the bus to blazing sunshine and hammocks strung around the pool in the hostel. Then we took a walk around the city, checking out the main squares of Plaza Independencia and Plaza Espania and huge parque San Martin to the top of Cerro Gloria, where you get a fantastic view of the whole of Mendoza. Back at the hostel we met some lovely girls who were staying in our room (one Cambridge graduate and a nurse from Portsmouth) and made a steak dinner together at the hostel. The next day the four of us hooked up with another group of four travellers and took bikes around six different bodegas in the area, doing a tour and a wine tasting at each one. The wineries and vineyards were beautiful and it was interesting to see the huge barrels and machines they use to make wine and learn all about the process. So all in all an educational and tipsy day in equal measure!
Next (sorry I am rushing here, queue of people behind me) we took a bus to the scenic, chilled out town of Salta, where we are now. We're staying at a hostel called Terra Oculta and just had a great lunch of local cuisine at a restaurant called Donas Salta. Salta is a great jumping off point to cross over the border into Bolivia (via La Quiaca and Villazon on the Bolivian side) which we are doing tomorow, so fingers and toes crossed that all goes smoothly. I'm looking forward to Bolivia, but I think it will take some adjusting as it's the poorest country in South America and I hear it can be a bit of a shock after Argentina. We'll also miss the Argentinan people who have been absolutely delightful. So thankyou Argentina, we've had a ball!
Next (sorry I am rushing here, queue of people behind me) we took a bus to the scenic, chilled out town of Salta, where we are now. We're staying at a hostel called Terra Oculta and just had a great lunch of local cuisine at a restaurant called Donas Salta. Salta is a great jumping off point to cross over the border into Bolivia (via La Quiaca and Villazon on the Bolivian side) which we are doing tomorow, so fingers and toes crossed that all goes smoothly. I'm looking forward to Bolivia, but I think it will take some adjusting as it's the poorest country in South America and I hear it can be a bit of a shock after Argentina. We'll also miss the Argentinan people who have been absolutely delightful. So thankyou Argentina, we've had a ball!
El Calafate & San Carlos de Barriloche, Argentina...
WELL, I've been awol for the last 11 days so here`s the catch up. The Perito Moreno glacier, which is the world`s last advancing glacier was mindblowing. It`s very active, particularly in the mornings and evenings, and enormous blue chunks crack off into the water below which creates a sound exactly like thunder/how you would imagine an earthquake to stand. I feels like nature at it's most powerful. We spent 5 hours there ogling it before heading back to El Calafate on the bus to warm up.
The next day we headed to Barriloche. Also known as the bus journey from hell. Because route 40 is so bone rattling and bumpy it takes 36 hours to travel there by bus, or you can take the slightly shorter 28 hour bus (which is also much more comfortable) which goes back to Rio Gallegos, then North to Como Rivadavia and then diagonally across the country to Barriloche. So thats what we did, and in the entire time we have been travelling so far we have always found a bed at the first hostel we've turned up to. This time, at our most exhausted, hungry and freeezing - it gets very, very cold in Barriloche - the hostel we had set our hearts on was full. So off we traipsed back into the snowy darkness to the next one on our list, a place called 41 below. Which by this point was what it felt like my body temperature was. We had a quick shower on arrival, met a very nice Welsh boy and headed back out with him into the cold for a delicious Mexican dinner at a restaurant called Zapata. We then collapsed into bed and slept incredibly well (despite the fact that I was in a precarious top bunk which felt about 50 feet from the floor). Anyway, the next day we went back to our first choice of hostel, the Penthouse, and booked in there for two nights. It´s one of my favourite hostels so far: cosy, welcoming and on the 10th floor with awe inspiring views of the lake.
Our first full day in Barriloche was spent cycling the circuito chico, a 6km bike ride which takes you to some of the most beautiful spots in Barriloche. The famous Llao Llao hotel, hidden beaches and lakes, and even streams fed by snow melt from the Andes. They`re so pure you can drink from them (it´s basically mineral water) which we did. Best water I've ever tasted. After that, despite 10 hours of cycling and having very sore legs, we walked to the top of another Cerro Campanaro to see the grand finale, an incredible view that had been recommended to us over the whole of Barriloche. As a result we were frozen to the bone and could barely walk the next day, but it was totally worth it. Best day so far.
The next day we headed to Barriloche. Also known as the bus journey from hell. Because route 40 is so bone rattling and bumpy it takes 36 hours to travel there by bus, or you can take the slightly shorter 28 hour bus (which is also much more comfortable) which goes back to Rio Gallegos, then North to Como Rivadavia and then diagonally across the country to Barriloche. So thats what we did, and in the entire time we have been travelling so far we have always found a bed at the first hostel we've turned up to. This time, at our most exhausted, hungry and freeezing - it gets very, very cold in Barriloche - the hostel we had set our hearts on was full. So off we traipsed back into the snowy darkness to the next one on our list, a place called 41 below. Which by this point was what it felt like my body temperature was. We had a quick shower on arrival, met a very nice Welsh boy and headed back out with him into the cold for a delicious Mexican dinner at a restaurant called Zapata. We then collapsed into bed and slept incredibly well (despite the fact that I was in a precarious top bunk which felt about 50 feet from the floor). Anyway, the next day we went back to our first choice of hostel, the Penthouse, and booked in there for two nights. It´s one of my favourite hostels so far: cosy, welcoming and on the 10th floor with awe inspiring views of the lake.
Our first full day in Barriloche was spent cycling the circuito chico, a 6km bike ride which takes you to some of the most beautiful spots in Barriloche. The famous Llao Llao hotel, hidden beaches and lakes, and even streams fed by snow melt from the Andes. They`re so pure you can drink from them (it´s basically mineral water) which we did. Best water I've ever tasted. After that, despite 10 hours of cycling and having very sore legs, we walked to the top of another Cerro Campanaro to see the grand finale, an incredible view that had been recommended to us over the whole of Barriloche. As a result we were frozen to the bone and could barely walk the next day, but it was totally worth it. Best day so far.
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Puerto Madryn, Argentina...
O.K. we have some catching up to do! Been rushing about like crazy so haven`t had time for a catch up in a while but here goes. So our last night in Buenos Aires was fantastic, we went to an underground Millonga (tango club) at a place called La Catedral, and my lovely Australian friend Gina came to meet us with her boyfriend Eddie. Unfortunately Gina and Eddie were much better at the tango than us which sent me into a bit of a strop, obviously, but red wine helped me get over it.
The next day it was back on the bus (after my hero Danny carried both of our bags as I was too hungover) for the long 20 hour-ish journey into Patagonia. It´s such a strange place, you can drive for hours and hours and hours and not see anything apart from shrubs and barren land. It´s so vast it´s just mind boggling. But when the sun goes down and the stars come out it´s just stunning. Being on a bus you wake up every hour or so, and I was fortunate enough to wake up as the sun was rising over the endless horizon which was so beautiful. On the way Danny met a German guy who was spending the next six months WALKING from Bahia Blanca (a few hours south of Buenos Aires) to Ushuaia which is known as ´the end of the world´ being the most Southerly town in the world. The only thing further south is Antarctica.
So we arrived in Puerto Madryn and stayed at a homely little hostel called Posada Catalejo, and for the first time since we started our travels we had a room to ourselves. I´ve so missed my personal space, to the point where it is a relief to be in the shower or the loo - the only place I know I can really be on my own! Speaking of which, travelling has really given me back an enjoyment of life's simplest pleasures, not only does being in a room alone feel like a luxury now, so do bus journeys (I love watching the scenery go by), bottles of Pepsi, lying down flat (after said bus journeys) or getting a well thumbed old novel in a book swap.
After getting to Puerto Madryn we unpacked and headed out to the Welsh towns of Trelew and Gaiman, visiting a museum which told the history of the 153 original (and very brave) Welsh families who originally settled in the area around 1865, which was fascinating, and although the women who worked there weren`t Welsh (bit disappointing), one of them was half Italian, half Chilean with an Irish husband and living in Patagonia. What a mix! Gaiman was very small and quaint with little Welsh tea houses which Princess Diana visited in 1995.
The next day we visited the Peninsula Valdes, which is known as a breeding ground for Right Whales and also has tons more wildlife in abundance, from elephant seals and penguins to orcas and dolphins. Being poor travellers we couldn´t take one of the expensive tours of the area, but we took the local bus to the beach at Puerto Piramides where you can take a boat trip out, or if you are said poor traveller, laze about on the beach all day watching the whales from there, which was incredible. It was a blazing sunny day so we stayed warm sheltering from the wind behind the sanddunes, and having a drink in the bars in the little town. Heavenly.
Our bus to Rio Gallegos wasn`t until 5pm the next day, so we spent the morning wandering round the town looking at the local handmade goods, then lounged on the sofa in the hostel until it was time to head to the bus station. It was 17 hours to Rio Gallegos, where we had to disembark and then catch another bus to El Calafate where we are now. We got here at about 5pm and were met at the bus station by staff from the America Del Sur hostel who organised a free taxi for us, and it`s wonderful here. The rooms are small (only four to a dorm) but look out over the snow capped Andes and a beautiful bright blue lake and lagoon. We`ve just had an `All you can eat BBQ` and sat and chatted with lots of other travellers at dinner while watching the sun set out the big windows, and they`ve organised for a bus to pick us up and take us to the Perito Moreno glacier in the morning, which I have wanted to see for a very, very long time.
Bye for now! Sorry it was such a mammoth post but I don`t want to forget a thing.
The next day it was back on the bus (after my hero Danny carried both of our bags as I was too hungover) for the long 20 hour-ish journey into Patagonia. It´s such a strange place, you can drive for hours and hours and hours and not see anything apart from shrubs and barren land. It´s so vast it´s just mind boggling. But when the sun goes down and the stars come out it´s just stunning. Being on a bus you wake up every hour or so, and I was fortunate enough to wake up as the sun was rising over the endless horizon which was so beautiful. On the way Danny met a German guy who was spending the next six months WALKING from Bahia Blanca (a few hours south of Buenos Aires) to Ushuaia which is known as ´the end of the world´ being the most Southerly town in the world. The only thing further south is Antarctica.
So we arrived in Puerto Madryn and stayed at a homely little hostel called Posada Catalejo, and for the first time since we started our travels we had a room to ourselves. I´ve so missed my personal space, to the point where it is a relief to be in the shower or the loo - the only place I know I can really be on my own! Speaking of which, travelling has really given me back an enjoyment of life's simplest pleasures, not only does being in a room alone feel like a luxury now, so do bus journeys (I love watching the scenery go by), bottles of Pepsi, lying down flat (after said bus journeys) or getting a well thumbed old novel in a book swap.
After getting to Puerto Madryn we unpacked and headed out to the Welsh towns of Trelew and Gaiman, visiting a museum which told the history of the 153 original (and very brave) Welsh families who originally settled in the area around 1865, which was fascinating, and although the women who worked there weren`t Welsh (bit disappointing), one of them was half Italian, half Chilean with an Irish husband and living in Patagonia. What a mix! Gaiman was very small and quaint with little Welsh tea houses which Princess Diana visited in 1995.
The next day we visited the Peninsula Valdes, which is known as a breeding ground for Right Whales and also has tons more wildlife in abundance, from elephant seals and penguins to orcas and dolphins. Being poor travellers we couldn´t take one of the expensive tours of the area, but we took the local bus to the beach at Puerto Piramides where you can take a boat trip out, or if you are said poor traveller, laze about on the beach all day watching the whales from there, which was incredible. It was a blazing sunny day so we stayed warm sheltering from the wind behind the sanddunes, and having a drink in the bars in the little town. Heavenly.
Our bus to Rio Gallegos wasn`t until 5pm the next day, so we spent the morning wandering round the town looking at the local handmade goods, then lounged on the sofa in the hostel until it was time to head to the bus station. It was 17 hours to Rio Gallegos, where we had to disembark and then catch another bus to El Calafate where we are now. We got here at about 5pm and were met at the bus station by staff from the America Del Sur hostel who organised a free taxi for us, and it`s wonderful here. The rooms are small (only four to a dorm) but look out over the snow capped Andes and a beautiful bright blue lake and lagoon. We`ve just had an `All you can eat BBQ` and sat and chatted with lots of other travellers at dinner while watching the sun set out the big windows, and they`ve organised for a bus to pick us up and take us to the Perito Moreno glacier in the morning, which I have wanted to see for a very, very long time.
Bye for now! Sorry it was such a mammoth post but I don`t want to forget a thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)