Ello ello! So we thoroughly enjoyed Ubud on Bali, it's such a laid back place, and we stayed in a hostel with our own veranda and chaise longes outside where we had banana pancakes and java coffee every morning. It's monsoon season at the moment so there have been some spectacular storms too, but its still so hot we just sit outside watching the rain pour down. In Ubud we caught a traditional Kecak fire dance which was based on an old Hindu myth and used 100 dancers with the women in extravagant, beautiful Hindu outfits, went to the Monkey Forest where you can't MOVE for monkeys (and to think in Iguazu I spent hours searching for a glimpse of one!) and just took in the temples that stand on pretty much every street corner. I didn't want to leave.
But leave we did, heading back to Kuta for christmas. This time our room at the Sari Bali Cottages cost about 3 pounds each a night, and for that we got a double room with en suite, breakfast and a huge pool. We visited the idyllic Jimbaran Bay on the Bukit peninsula in the very south of the island on Christmas eve, watching the sunset there and then heading back into Kuta for arctic cold Bintangs (always necessary, the heat NEVER lets up) we also explored the island on a moped (don't be mad mum!) and I found the holy grail... a REAL Topshop! Obviously I was so excited I almost wept. On Christmas day we found a bookshop and swapped all our old South American guide books for new ones lazed on the beach before heading into town for a - sort of - traditional roast dinner. There was turkey, there was stuffing, but there was also mango, which was unexpected. I also got to speak to my mum very, very briefly on the quietest line ever in a room full of strangers. Not the best of conditions but so comforting to hear her voice on the big day when we are so far apart.
On boxing day we took the 3pm bus to Yogyakarta on Java, a 16 hour journey that goes onto a car ferry between the islands. The bus was new, air conditioned and comfortable, but the drivers here are crazy and certainly don't stick to 70 like the drivers in South America (in Argentina they have a monitor on the bus that automatically makes it slow down if they go too fast) so it was a sleepless night. We arrived in Yogyakarta at 7am and took a cab to the Sosrowijayan district of the city and went from hostel to hostel being told they were all full because it's Christmas (weird, seeing as it's a predominantly Muslim nation). Eventually we found somewhere, small and a little overpriced but fine to rest our weary bones for a night until we found somewhere better. Which we just have, the new place has a pool with a waterfall and a lovely little room, but it is my first experience of... deep breath... a squat toilet. Eek! But hey, I've been to Glastonbury. I can do this.
Yogya is the political and cultural centre of Java so we've been exploring the batik galleries (and learnt all about the process) and trawling the buzzing markets and riding around on tuk tuks. It feels incredibly authentic here, much more like the 'real' Indonesia than Bali. There aren't any other Western tourists around, but as usual the Indonesian people are charming, relaxed and polite. The only problem is it's still as hot as Bali, but as the island is Islamic we have to cover up, so I'm wearing jeans and long sleeves in the sweltering heat. There are mosques everywhere, and the soundtrack to the island is the haunting muezzins call to prayer which starts at 4am every morning and never really stops. But actually I find it quite beautiful, we got up at 4am this morning to visit Borobudur and I popped out onto the dark balcony to listen to the singing and watch the monsoon rains.
So, to Borobudur! One of the seven wonders of the world and the largest Buddhist Temple in existence. It's so huge you can't take a picture of the whole thing at once, and covered in ornate carvings and Buddhist stupas. It was built in the 8th century, but covered in volcanic ash in 1008 and only rediscovered by the rather amazing sir Stanford Raffles in 18?? (I can't quite remember the date). Look up Raffles if you can, he was the most extraordinary Englishman and did an awful lot for Java. After we arrived back in Yogya we visited the Kraton, the palace of the Sultan, then had a great lunch at Via Via. Tomorow we plan to check out a few more markets, catch some traditional dancing and Gamelan and maybe go to the Kota area of the city which has been a huge centre for silver for almost a century, so I'll sharpen my bartering skills (which are getting better by the day) and treat myself to a bangle.
Right, I've gone on quite enough (although I'm sure I'm forgetting loads) so i'll say goodbye for now. I think it's dinnertime. Noodles anyone? I can't remember ever eating anything else...
Monday, 28 December 2009
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Kuta (Bali), Indonesia...
Right, sorry I am going to focus today and tell you a little about Indonesia where we've been for the last five or so (god knows) days. Firstly it is the hottest place I have ever been to in my entire life. Possibly Hawaii was as hot but we stayed in an air conditioned hotel whereas here we are staying in a very pleasant place with lots of Hindu offerings and sculptures and beautiful flowers in the garden, but the fan in our room will not be rushed. It goes round at a most leisurely pace and simply doesn't do a whole lot. We also have a cold water shower (but in this heat that is just fine with me) and a few companions staying with us known as Mr Gekko and Mr Cockroach. But it's 2 pounds a night, just a stroll from the beach, so whatcha gonna do?
We're staying in Kuta which is the party capital of Bali and the place where the Bali bombings took place in 2002 and 2005. We have visited the memorial on the main street which is very sad. Many of the names of the 202 people who died in the 2002 bombing are English. The next beaches are called Legian and Seminyak and we've spent alot of time strolling up and down the bath-warm waters and checking out bars and restaurants along the way. We found Ku-de-ta in Seminyak last night which is like something out of Wallpaper magazine, all reclining sofa bed and pools and fountains and lights looking out over the beach, so we splashed out on a couple of cocktails and lay on our beds looking out to sea watching the sun set and the sky turn pink and then deep red. Bali sunsets are the most beautiful in the world.
What else? Well Kuta is mainly windy cobbled streets and absolutely teeming with locals and tourists on motorbikes whizzing through the streets and also hundreds of hawkers shouting 'Mister, mister, surf lesson? T-shirt? Fruit? Motorbike? Yes?' But to be expected in such a touristy place. Tonight is our last night in Kuta and then tomorrow we're off to Ubud which is supposed to give a better sense of what a proper Balinese village is like. We'll be back in Kuta for Christmas and there is a bar called the Secret Garden Inn which does an English Christmas dinner for 100,000 Rupiah, which is about 10 dollars so we'll probably book that.
That's another thing, Bali is so ridiculously, ridiculously cheap, especially compared to Australia where we were shedding money by the minute - here you can get a delicious meal of pad thai or nasi goreng and a bottle of Bintang beer or Bali Hai for about one pound fifty! And I've never had so many yummy fruit juices and noodles and prawn crackers (they even eat them for breakfast out here). If you ask for a pineapple juice they don't go to a carton and pour it out, they pick up a pineapple and stick it in a juicer. Anyway, we're off to spend our last day in Kuta on the beach and catch some waves with our body board. Byesy bye...
We're staying in Kuta which is the party capital of Bali and the place where the Bali bombings took place in 2002 and 2005. We have visited the memorial on the main street which is very sad. Many of the names of the 202 people who died in the 2002 bombing are English. The next beaches are called Legian and Seminyak and we've spent alot of time strolling up and down the bath-warm waters and checking out bars and restaurants along the way. We found Ku-de-ta in Seminyak last night which is like something out of Wallpaper magazine, all reclining sofa bed and pools and fountains and lights looking out over the beach, so we splashed out on a couple of cocktails and lay on our beds looking out to sea watching the sun set and the sky turn pink and then deep red. Bali sunsets are the most beautiful in the world.
What else? Well Kuta is mainly windy cobbled streets and absolutely teeming with locals and tourists on motorbikes whizzing through the streets and also hundreds of hawkers shouting 'Mister, mister, surf lesson? T-shirt? Fruit? Motorbike? Yes?' But to be expected in such a touristy place. Tonight is our last night in Kuta and then tomorrow we're off to Ubud which is supposed to give a better sense of what a proper Balinese village is like. We'll be back in Kuta for Christmas and there is a bar called the Secret Garden Inn which does an English Christmas dinner for 100,000 Rupiah, which is about 10 dollars so we'll probably book that.
That's another thing, Bali is so ridiculously, ridiculously cheap, especially compared to Australia where we were shedding money by the minute - here you can get a delicious meal of pad thai or nasi goreng and a bottle of Bintang beer or Bali Hai for about one pound fifty! And I've never had so many yummy fruit juices and noodles and prawn crackers (they even eat them for breakfast out here). If you ask for a pineapple juice they don't go to a carton and pour it out, they pick up a pineapple and stick it in a juicer. Anyway, we're off to spend our last day in Kuta on the beach and catch some waves with our body board. Byesy bye...
Monday, 14 December 2009
Sydney, Australia...
Goodness me, BIG slap on the wrist I have been terribly slack on here. I think last time I wrote I was in Chile, well I've since been to Australia and I'm now in Indonesia. Let's back track... so Valparaiso and Vina del Mar were wonderful, my favourite South American cities. The Chilean people are fantastic, so funny and dry and smart. I found Chile to be very sophisticated, you can see why it's on the brink of becoming South America's first first world country.
Next we headed for Australia which was a 14 hour flight to New Zealand followed by a connection onto Sydney, so quite exhausting, and nightmarish when we arrived and found no space in ANY hostels at all (some festival or something). Anyway, we finally found a friendly little place called the Sydney Star in a gay area in Darlinghurst and kicked back for a week. Mainly we shopped and ate and saw the sights (Opera House, Harbour Bridge, the Rocks, caught the ferry to Manly beach) and spent lots of time eating fish and chips and drinking fruit smoothies on Bondi which I have to say is my favourite beach in the world thus far, even better than Copacabana in Rio. I also thought the women on Bondi were the most beautiful I had seen anywhere. They all seemed to look like leggy, tanned models, in an impossibly 'un-efforty' way.
I also had nights out catching up with two friends who I used to work with in London and now live in Sydney, and my friend Gina took me on a night drive through Valcluse, a.k.a. the Australian OC. With all the sparkly lights and the sea it was very romantic! Finally we spent our last night at Watson's Bay with some old colleagues of Danny's, which was breathtaking at sunset. I adored Sydney, it had most of what we have in London but with wonderful weather and a perfect beach aswell. I'd love to work out there for a year or so. But much as I loved oz, we couldn't really afford to travel there (we seemed to be burning money, even though we were being very careful) so I was quite relieved when we moved on, if only for my wallet's sake.
Anyway, we were then supposed to fly to Darwin and connect on to Denpasar in Bali, but there was a cyclone in Darwin so we were rerouted to Melbourne (which is in the opposite direction) so after a very long day of travelling we landed in Bali at about 11pm where it was about 30 degrees. And it hasn't dropped anything below that since, it is ridiculously hot here, so much so that we were over the moon to find a tiny air conditioned ATM booth and have spent as much time as possible in there. Anyway, we've been staying in Kuta in Bali which is kind of like the Balinese San Antonio, packed with clubbers and suchlike so we'll head off soon to Ubud, which is a more authentic Balinese town and has lots of Hindu architecture and a really laid back vibe. There is much more to tell but this is costing me so I'll have to cut it short for now... With love from Indonesia!
Next we headed for Australia which was a 14 hour flight to New Zealand followed by a connection onto Sydney, so quite exhausting, and nightmarish when we arrived and found no space in ANY hostels at all (some festival or something). Anyway, we finally found a friendly little place called the Sydney Star in a gay area in Darlinghurst and kicked back for a week. Mainly we shopped and ate and saw the sights (Opera House, Harbour Bridge, the Rocks, caught the ferry to Manly beach) and spent lots of time eating fish and chips and drinking fruit smoothies on Bondi which I have to say is my favourite beach in the world thus far, even better than Copacabana in Rio. I also thought the women on Bondi were the most beautiful I had seen anywhere. They all seemed to look like leggy, tanned models, in an impossibly 'un-efforty' way.
I also had nights out catching up with two friends who I used to work with in London and now live in Sydney, and my friend Gina took me on a night drive through Valcluse, a.k.a. the Australian OC. With all the sparkly lights and the sea it was very romantic! Finally we spent our last night at Watson's Bay with some old colleagues of Danny's, which was breathtaking at sunset. I adored Sydney, it had most of what we have in London but with wonderful weather and a perfect beach aswell. I'd love to work out there for a year or so. But much as I loved oz, we couldn't really afford to travel there (we seemed to be burning money, even though we were being very careful) so I was quite relieved when we moved on, if only for my wallet's sake.
Anyway, we were then supposed to fly to Darwin and connect on to Denpasar in Bali, but there was a cyclone in Darwin so we were rerouted to Melbourne (which is in the opposite direction) so after a very long day of travelling we landed in Bali at about 11pm where it was about 30 degrees. And it hasn't dropped anything below that since, it is ridiculously hot here, so much so that we were over the moon to find a tiny air conditioned ATM booth and have spent as much time as possible in there. Anyway, we've been staying in Kuta in Bali which is kind of like the Balinese San Antonio, packed with clubbers and suchlike so we'll head off soon to Ubud, which is a more authentic Balinese town and has lots of Hindu architecture and a really laid back vibe. There is much more to tell but this is costing me so I'll have to cut it short for now... With love from Indonesia!
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Arica, San Pedro de Atacama, Valparaiso & Santiago, Chile...
Ok... What have I been doing... Lets think. Yes, so we took an overnight bus from Cusco to Arica in Chile, which was all a bit drawn out with the border formalities. The bus company arranged for a nice man (to be fair he could've been a dodgy man, how do you ever really know? But at least he didn't run off with our passports) came and met us at the bus station in Tacna, on the Peruvian side, and took us in a taxi to the International bus station, where we filled out all the obligatory forms and then he put us in a collectivo (fixed price shared taxi) which takes you the 50 kilometres or so to immigration, where you get stamped (your passport stamped obvs, not stamped on) and your bags scanned, and then back in the collectivo to Aricain Chile. We got to Arica at about 11am and the next bus to the Atacama desert wasn´t until 10pm that night so we took an unscheduled stop and stayed the night in Arica. It´s un-touristy as there isn't a lot there, but it was a great for relaxing on the beach for a day, and sitting in the lovely outdoor bars and restaurants watching Chileans go about their day.
The next night we took the bus to San Pedro de Atacama, which is a tiny little oasis town in the desert, and my favourite place in all of South America. Oh and the bus journey there proved that I have learnt some patience during this trip - it´s pretty normal in all the countries we´ve been to so far for the police to come on board the bus and check your passport and stamps several times in one trip, but this time we had to get off the bus, twice, once at midnight and once at 4.30am and everyone had to take all their luggage out of the hold and have it searched. Bearing in mind most of the people were Chileans who obviously lived in the desert and had popped over to Arica (a mere eleven hours) to do their Christmas shopping, this took hours. But the police were very nice to us (the only foreigners on the bus) and I didn´t even get irritated. I´ve changed!
Anway, back to San Pedro, the place is only a few dusty streets and houses (situated in the world´s driest desert) that look like they´re made out of mud (I think the population is about 2000) but it´s got a gorgeous little plaza with a whitewashed church, and it´s a great jumping off point for exploring the geysers, lagoons, moonscapes and salt flats nearby. We stayed at hostel Florida, a cute little place with a hammock strewn courtyard and hot water. We booked two trips, one to watch the sunset over the Valle de la Luna or Valley of the Moon, and another to watch the sunrise at the El Tatio geysers.
For the Valle de la Luna trip our lovely guide Gustavo (who I thought looked a bit like a Chilean version of Russell Brand) took us to Death Valley and showed us rock formations and volcanoes, and then we walked up a huge sand dune to reach the top to view the changing colours of the lunar landscape for sunset. The next morning we got up at 3.30am for pick up at 4am to head to the geysers. We had a lovely guide called Ignacio who but a big bag of raw eggs and chocolate milk in one of the bubbling geysers when we arrived, which boiled the eggs and heated up the milk so we could eat breakfast while watching the sunrise. Despite it being minus two degrees at 5am it was categorically the best breakfast I have ever eaten in my life! The geysers are most active in the morning, and some of the holes in the ground seem to do nothing until a huge surge of water bubbles up and steam rises into the air as far as the eyes can see. The steam isn´t too hot, just warm so you can disappear into the steam (and pretend you´re at a disco, smoke machine style). Once the sun came up (and thankfully the temperature heated up very quickly) we all headed to a nearby thermal mineral pool for a dip, before travelling back to San Pedro via a tiny little village (I forget the name now) which has just 40 residents and the main economy is llama. So we saw some cute llamas in the village (they are domesticated like pets and just munch on grass all day and wear little accessories so their owners can recognise them) and then we had some llama on the... barbecue. Which obviously we felt a little guilty about, but my my did it taste good.
Anyway, I am babbling on, so I shall cut this short. But we just took a 22 hour bus from San Pedro to Santiago, and then a two hour bus on to Valparaiso where we have just arrived to. It's gorgeous, all multicoloured houses and winding streets in the hills, and we´re staying at an adorable family run hostel called en Cerro Residencia. We´re off to explore Valpo today, then tomorow we plan to hit the white sandy beaches at the fancy resort of Vina del Mar, about 15 minutes away, and then it´s back to Santiago and to the airport to head to Australia. Sniff. South America you've been wonderful. I'm going to miss you!
The next night we took the bus to San Pedro de Atacama, which is a tiny little oasis town in the desert, and my favourite place in all of South America. Oh and the bus journey there proved that I have learnt some patience during this trip - it´s pretty normal in all the countries we´ve been to so far for the police to come on board the bus and check your passport and stamps several times in one trip, but this time we had to get off the bus, twice, once at midnight and once at 4.30am and everyone had to take all their luggage out of the hold and have it searched. Bearing in mind most of the people were Chileans who obviously lived in the desert and had popped over to Arica (a mere eleven hours) to do their Christmas shopping, this took hours. But the police were very nice to us (the only foreigners on the bus) and I didn´t even get irritated. I´ve changed!
Anway, back to San Pedro, the place is only a few dusty streets and houses (situated in the world´s driest desert) that look like they´re made out of mud (I think the population is about 2000) but it´s got a gorgeous little plaza with a whitewashed church, and it´s a great jumping off point for exploring the geysers, lagoons, moonscapes and salt flats nearby. We stayed at hostel Florida, a cute little place with a hammock strewn courtyard and hot water. We booked two trips, one to watch the sunset over the Valle de la Luna or Valley of the Moon, and another to watch the sunrise at the El Tatio geysers.
For the Valle de la Luna trip our lovely guide Gustavo (who I thought looked a bit like a Chilean version of Russell Brand) took us to Death Valley and showed us rock formations and volcanoes, and then we walked up a huge sand dune to reach the top to view the changing colours of the lunar landscape for sunset. The next morning we got up at 3.30am for pick up at 4am to head to the geysers. We had a lovely guide called Ignacio who but a big bag of raw eggs and chocolate milk in one of the bubbling geysers when we arrived, which boiled the eggs and heated up the milk so we could eat breakfast while watching the sunrise. Despite it being minus two degrees at 5am it was categorically the best breakfast I have ever eaten in my life! The geysers are most active in the morning, and some of the holes in the ground seem to do nothing until a huge surge of water bubbles up and steam rises into the air as far as the eyes can see. The steam isn´t too hot, just warm so you can disappear into the steam (and pretend you´re at a disco, smoke machine style). Once the sun came up (and thankfully the temperature heated up very quickly) we all headed to a nearby thermal mineral pool for a dip, before travelling back to San Pedro via a tiny little village (I forget the name now) which has just 40 residents and the main economy is llama. So we saw some cute llamas in the village (they are domesticated like pets and just munch on grass all day and wear little accessories so their owners can recognise them) and then we had some llama on the... barbecue. Which obviously we felt a little guilty about, but my my did it taste good.
Anyway, I am babbling on, so I shall cut this short. But we just took a 22 hour bus from San Pedro to Santiago, and then a two hour bus on to Valparaiso where we have just arrived to. It's gorgeous, all multicoloured houses and winding streets in the hills, and we´re staying at an adorable family run hostel called en Cerro Residencia. We´re off to explore Valpo today, then tomorow we plan to hit the white sandy beaches at the fancy resort of Vina del Mar, about 15 minutes away, and then it´s back to Santiago and to the airport to head to Australia. Sniff. South America you've been wonderful. I'm going to miss you!
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Cusco & Macchu Picchu, Peru...
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!
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!
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.
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