Sanyu's World

Yoyoing Around

My overnight bus to from Cuenca to Latacunga was a bit stressful. The guy didn't  call out the stop and I missed it. He dropped me off at a turnoff on the Pan American highway and drove off. Just the kind of thing you want to deal with at 6am. I saw a bus about to drive off in the opposite direction and ran for it as best I could with my big backpack. Disaster averted. I arrived in Latacunga about an hour later and somehow talked the cleaner at a nearby hotel into holding my backpack for a few days. I booked it to the bus station and found a bus to a small town called Zumbahua where I hitchhiked (sorry, mom) 15km to the beautiful crater lake Quilotoa. I hiked around it for about an hour and then headed off on the 5 hour hike to the town of Chugchillan, sans guide.

What to say about my little expedition. The route is supposed to be marked by blue arrows but I didn't ever see a single one. I took a wrong turning but found a local woman who pointed out where I could descend down into the canyon. I was halfway down when the trail got really narrow and treacherous. I scrabbled my way down and started heading up the closest hill. I remember thinking this is much too hard to be the real trail because I basically had to rock climb up the hill grabbing onto any brush to keep myself steady on the crumbling earth. I barely made it up to the top only to realize that the small town I'd seen was on the hill behind the one I'd climbed! Luckily the way down wasn't as difficult and I pretty much just slid down on my butt. I made it up the next hill only to run into a horseback riding traveler with a guide who informed me that Chugchillin was another two hours across the valley. I headed back down into the valley and across the river until I came to a well trodden path. Nope wrong path yet again. I had started at noon and by now the sun was beginning to set. I kept walking and finally looked around and realized that I was hopelessly lost and should probably find a cave or something to bunker down for the night.

I'd sworn not to climb any more hills unless I was sure it was the route to Chugchillian but I was at a loss for options. There was a path ahead of me that for the first time didn't peter out after a few hundred meters. I met a young girl on the trail who confirmed that I was actually going the right way. The farther I went the more locals I met which gave me confidence. The last 20 minutes was almost straight up hill but I was so elated I hardly felt it. I made it to the town at 7pm. I took a beautifully hot shower and changed out of all my filthy trekking clothes before heading to the dining room for a communal dinner. I was so tired I could barely eat. I made some small talk with two couples at my table and went directly to bed.

The only buses out of Chugchillan are at 3am or 4am so I had to get up ridiculously early. I slept most of the was to Latacunga and then caught two buses back down south to Banos. I had a wonderful breakfast in a gringo restaurant before renting a bike to ride down a big waterfall about 20km away. Am I a masochist or what? I'd been in Banos back in February and hadn't done anything there because the weather was so bad. The weather wasn't great but I knew that the rain usually holds for a few hours between noon and 3pm so I had to get going. The scenery was beautiful and there were some smaller waterfalls along the way. At two of the waterfalls you can take a small cage thing across the river. I didn't think much of it but it was so scary being that high up in and open metal cage. I made it down to the waterfall called Diablo del Pavilon which required a short hike on my already tired legs. It was worth it though and when I got back up the trail it immediately started to rain. I found a truck to whisk me back up the road to Banos and made my way to an Israeli den. Much more intimidating than I'd thought it would be. But it was cheap and the room had a TV which were my only requirements. I dumped my backpack and headed straight over to the thermal hot springs for which the town is famous. It was just what my body needed and I stayed in there long after my tolerance level allowed.   

Up early, yet again to head back up to Latacunga to make a connection to Saquisili to see the authentic indigenous Thursday market. It was a pretty haphazard scene with people everywhere selling just about everything under the sun. Instead of heading back to Latacunga I decided to keep going north to Quito about an hour and half away. My stomach has been pretty off since I've been in Ecuador and I was jonesing for a chicken Caesar salad at a place I knew in the new town. I did some final due diligence on a possible Galapagos trip and was happy with my decision to skip it. I want to do a diving expedition there but its really expensive and because it's low season they don't go to two of the best sites, Wolf and Darwin. So back in the bus and back to Latacunga where I picked up my bag and caught another 2 hour bus for a ride down to Riobamba. I arrived late but the bus thankfully dropped me right downtown, right in front of my hotel. 

My new alarm clock failed me and i only woke up at 5am by sheer dumb luck. I headed off to the nearby train station to catch the gringo train to Alausi and then down the Devil's nose. The ride went by surprisingly fast. Everyone sits on top of the train car and intermittently throws candy to kids while watching the scenery. I almost beaned two kids with some well lobbed lollipops but they didn't seem to mind. Scenery was gorgeous and sitting on top of the train was really fun waiting for the train to derail as it purportedly so often does. When we arrived back kin Alausi I ran off the train and just barely caught my first of 3 buses north to Otovalo. A grueling trip but the big market is on Saturday. I barely had 5 minutes between each bus and made it to Otovalo by 10pm but shockingly, everything was closed. I walked around in circles until I finally found a hotel that was open. I was so tired but somehow couldn't fall asleep probably because of the visions I kept having the cockroach I'm sure I saw scurrying across the ceiling over my bed.

Another early wake-up, surprise, surprise. I wanted to check out the animal market which was pretty crazy. I'm not sure PETA would approve. I hit the handicraft market and picked up some carpets for Winks and a few gift items for me, me, me! Well I'm done with Ecuador. Where to next? Well, I was planning on arriving in Columbia tomorrow but my quick check on the Canadian government travel warning website has made for a change of plans. Tomorrow is election day in Columbia and they advise against all bus travel in the country. My entry point in the south of Columbia is a bit dangerous as it is so I've had to backtrack, yet again, to backpacker friendly Quito. I'm back in the same hostel I stayed in back in February where tonight is, as usual, shaping up to be a big party. It's been a crazy week and tomorrow is my day to sleep and do a whole lot of nothing. I can't wait!

Ecuador Encore

A day of buses was in order to get from Paracas to Lima and then on to Guayaquil, Ecuador. I only had about half an hour to make my connection at a completely different bus terminal but it all worked out. I traveled for about 30 long hours in total but the buses were decent and they played surprisingly good movies along the way up the Peruvian coastline. There was one town called Mancora in the very north of Peru where I really debated getting of the bus and spending a few days. It looked like a very relaxing beach party town but in the end I realized that I wasn't in the mood to hang out on the beach and do nothing. Getting through customs was the usual long wait in a sweltering room with two guys manning the desk but only one working, of course. Once across, it was all banana plantations lining the roads for miles and all the bug bunches were growing inside big clear blue plastic bags.  Poor, poor bananas, how do they breathe?

We arrived in Guayaquil about 3 hours later than expected. It had just turned dark but I figured it was safe enough so I flagged down a bus headed for the downtown area and  knocked everyone about  with my backpack while I tried  to find a seat. There don't seem to be any real bus stops here. You just flag down one of the hundreds of buses passing by and get ready to run on a trajectory to where you think you can best climb on as they slow down and then hit the accelerator and take of again. Getting off the bus was a nightmare. I tagain hit everyone with my bag, some twice, but I was lucky to get off only a few blocks from my crappy hotel where they showed me up to my shoe closet of a room. I took a wander to the nearby main square and found a  small movie theatre where MI:3  was starting in only half an hour. What great luck!

I got up early to wander the town which was a bit of a mistake. Nothing  here opens until 9:30am. I was looking for a Galapagos scuba diving operator but found that they weren't just opening late. They were closed. On a Saturday. Nice.  I checked out another agency that was open but they seemed really shady. Enough of that. I headed  around the town to check out the sites. First stop: Park Bolivar to check out the beautiful cathedral. I arrived to find lots of locals and tourists in the park but no one was looking at the Cathedral. I wandered over to find out  what was so interesting and almost tripped over a giant iguana like thing. There were about 20 of them hanging out in the park, climbing trees and leaning towards people to request a nice head rub. I walked back towards the hotel through the market and found some super strong hair straightening stuff that I immediately took back to the hotel and applied to my out of control hair. It was so dry in  Bolivia and southern Peru that I didn't have to do anything to my hair, it would just dry bone straight. But in the last  week or so I've barely been able to comb it.

After a quick and horrible lunch I accidentally took the wrong bus and in trying to find my way I stumbled upon a beauty salon. Manicure + Pedicure for $5 = Happy Sanyu. I walked carefully from there to the giant white city cemetary. It wasn't like the famous cemetary in Buenos Aires where only the rich and powerful are buried. This one had everything from imposing mausoleums to tiny cubbyholes. I hiked back to town and made it to the theatre in time to catch one of the many sold out showings of the Davinci Code (I'd bought my ticket earlier in the day, thank heavens).

I tried to get up super early the next day to catch the bus to Cuenca but 6:30am was all my body could manage. I arrived a little after 11am. Itwas a Sunday so everything  was dead.  No worries, Cuenca is a beautiful old colonial town with amazing markets and churches for the eye to behold. Unfortunately it is also a very small place and I was done my sightseeing well before 2pm. I spent a little time on Internet and then back at the hostel watching crappy TV programs until about 10 new people showed up at the hostel fresh off the Devil's Nose train ride. We all headed out for dinner and then over to Park Calderon where the army was giving a little nighttime brass band performance.

My last day in Cuenca. I'd pretty much done everything on the LP list. I had breakfast in the market at a stall where a woman presided over a whole roasted pig. She gave me a little taste and I was hooked. I walked out of the town center to take a look at a large yellow and red church that I had seen the top of from my hostal but it was much less exciting in person.  The rest of the day been spent in and out of Internet cafes trying to figure out the logistics of the rest of my trip. Thank heavens Internet is cheap here.  Only a few more months to go. How to stuff it all in. I'm still not sure but to all my friends and family who keep asking me, yes, I will be home soon. I promise.

The Peruvian Coast

Well my last day in Arequipa was thankfully uneventful and relaxing. Up early to catch the Liverpool vs Westham United game and then time to just troll around the city. I was glad to have a chance to see the Ice Maiden, Juanita, a young girl sacrificed to the gods and found after being buried about 500 years. Many hours of Internet later, I met up with Bob and Dee and another Brit named Robbie for dinner at a good gringo pizza before boarding our overnight bus to Nazca.

We arrived into town more than an hour earlier than expected but the town is tiny and we easily found the hotel/travel agency with whom we'd booked our ticket. They let us hang out on their couches until the kitchen opened and and after that everything was a whirlwind. They picked us up in a van, transported us to a tiny airport about 10 minutes away and then whisked us onto a tiny little five seat-er plane for our tour of the Nazca Lines.  We flew for about 30 minutes while the pilot banked left and right so we would all get a good view of the different line pictures. They were amazing and made me miss the X-Files even more. The lines were so straight and pictures so perfect. Aliens are so creative ;)

We were exhilarated after the flight but then we were put a room to watch a terrible boring old BBC documentary on the lines. It was so bad it was laughable. We were dropped back at our hotel and almost immediately headed off of a tour of the nearby cemetary where grave robbers have dug and exposed multiple graves. The have a small museum there and with money from the government have tried to preserve some of the old tombs. Too many dead people staring at me for my liking. The also took us to a small pottery workshop and a small gold refinery where I got in some retail therapy.

Back to the hotel one more time where we planned our exit up the coast to Huacachina. Di and I went down the street to negotiate transport for the one and half hour journey and we were off. The taxi we found was a giant 70's pinto type car with a trunk bigger than some of the hotel rooms I've slept in on this journey of mine. When the taxi dropped us off at the hotel on a small deserted street my first thought of Huacachina was, ugh. The hotel was nice enough though but then I saw the light at the other end of the hostel. We had entered though the back. Walking out though the front door you are assaulted by the most beautiful view of a small lake surrounded by mammoth size dunes. What a difference a door makes.

We headed out to dinner at the only restaurant that seemed to be open in this little oasis. No matter, the food was excellent and the portions bigger than anything I've seen since Argentina. The guys were laughing at our Israeli waiter who apparently reeked of pot smoke but I couldn't smell anything. We're a few thousand feet lower than we were the day before so while it's wonderfully warm, my lungs don't know what to do with all the all the extra oxygen. I was all stuffed up and uncomfortable so I excused myself as quickly as I could after I finished eating to go and tuck myself into bed with a bottle Vick's vapor rub. The stuff did the trick and in the morning I felt excellent. We all headed into the main town called Ica about 4 hours away for breakfast and Internet and then to pick up supplies for an evening BBQ. The afternoon on rolled along quickly and it was finally time for our sunset dune buggy tour. Our driver was really fun and took us on a wild and crazy ride up and down the nearby dunes to a perfect place to watch the sunset. After that it was time to test our skills on the board. I went down the fist dune standing up, barely, but on the last three I was happy to lie on the board and zip down as fast as possible. What a blast!

The BBQ went off without a hitch. It was really nice to make our own food for the first time in ages. We all went to bed with a plan to meet at 6am to go up the dune to see the sunrise but everyone bailed. I was wide awake a 5:30am so I decided to go on up myself. Walking up the dune was exhausting even though I took the easiest path up. The sand is super soft so you loose one step for every two you take. But up I went following an older Canadian couple. The sunrise was worth it, without a doubt, as was running straight back down the dune. We all had breakfast together before I headed off on a little expedition to a small winery near town. I took a little shared cab there and was squished into the back next to two very large women. I had to pretty much sit on one of them for the drive to be able to shut the door.  The winery was very small and old and, uh, not much of a winery. They mostly make Pisco, the big drink here in Peru. I would love to have been here during harvest time because they still juice the grapes by stomping on them.

I made it back to the hostel somewhat on time and we all headed to our next town even further up the coast. The bus driver kept pointing at us and hugging himself which we finally figured out was him telling us to keep close contact without bags and to not put them down. Pisco town was only an hour away and from there it was a short, if smelly, cab ride down to Paracas, a beautiful ocean-side town. We watched a beautiful sunset and found the secret restaurant where all the entrees are only $3 even though the prices on the menu are much more expensive. So much fish here. I'm in love. Everyone finally tried ceviche which I think they actually liked. After a great night's sleep at sea level we were up early to take a boat to see the Ballantine Islands, also called the poor man's Galapagos. After a bit of a shaky start we were off and saw these huge rocks jutting out of the ocean covered with different birds and sea lions. A quick lunch and back into Pisco just in time to catch the UEFA Champions League final match. What can I say, It was brutal. With a heavy heart I said good bye to Dee, Bob and Robbie. They were on their way up to Huaraz while I'm booking it straight to Ecuador. But not before I have one more night of cheap seafood. Ciao from Peru.

Raging in Colca Canyon

Sunday isn't a good day to arrive into small cities in South America. You feel like you're entering a ghost town. I arrived in the evening and found a hotel close to the main square in Arequipa where almost every door was closed. Walking the streets early Monday morning its as if you've changed towns entirely. The main plaza here has a very European feel in its architecture with a two walkways covered in adjoining arches and a large cathedral that just barely allows the snow capped mountain peaks to peek through it's steeples. I spent most of the day just running errands since Dee and Bob were due to later in the day. Arequipa is yet another beautiful colonial city which makes for great walking except for the traffic which I just can't figure out. Only about half of the intersection have traffic lights. At the others there aren't even stop signs. It just seems as if north-south traffic has priority which somehow just barely works depending on how rushed people are at the time.

I was hanging out on the hostel rooftop patio when Bob and Dee finally arrived. They were an hour late due to usual Peruvian bus nonsense. I quickly got them hydrated with some store bought beer before taking them out to all a happy hour spot. 3 drinks for the price of 1! Needless to say we weren't up too early the next day. It wasn't going to be a very fun day anyway as we had to make the rounds of the dozens of travel agencies to compare prices and itineraries for a 3 day/2 night trek in nearby Colca Canyon. We decided in the end to go with the travel agency in our hostel because they had a book of great reviews from fellow travelers. That done, I headed to take in the Monastery of Santa Catalina. the whole complex takes up an entire city block. While the outside is blocks of large gray stone, the inside is divided into many small brightly colored rooms with beautifully maintained flowers growing everywhere. A really surprising place.

We had to be in bed early in order to get up at 5am to be ready to leave for Colca Canyon. The guide showed up about 6am while we were having breakfast and quickly rushed us off the bus station and on to our bus. We thought it a bit weird that he never spoke to us for the entire 6 hour journey to Cabanaconde but hey, it was pretty early. When we arrived we asked him a few questions and so began our first tete-a-tete. Dee doesn't eat red meat with the tour agency said was fine but somehow the only thing available for lunch is alpaca steak. He even went so far as to tell us that it wasn't good to eat chicken or fish in this town because it wasn't fresh. Guess what we were served the next day! Not a big deal though. During lunch we found out that he had reserved our return bus trips without asking us when we wanted to return. He had booked the earlier bus without even asking us and we knew we really wanted to take the later bus home. This seemed to be the turning point because he rushed off to try and change the ticket and from that point on for 3 days and 2 nights he was as sullen as a 13 year old girl. After lunch on the way down the mountain Dee tried to draw him out of his shell but he was a virtual mummy.

Scenery was beautiful as we made our way down the steep and dusty path. It was hard not to look at it but it was more important to watch your footing on every step . We made it to the river at the bottom of the canyon after about three hours. Our guide thoroughly ignored us as we made our way over some rocks to the waterline where we watched two other small tour groups laughing and talking with their guides. We were a little bit jealous especially when we found out that they paid even less than us with a company we had decided against. We took off up the path towards the small town of San Juan without him. The hostel was colorfully surrounded by long vines and flowers. and there was a lovely terrace where we ploughed though some of our wine stash before dinner. Dinner was rice and stewed veggies. Delicious but man, I'd just walked for 4 hours and was craving some carne. As the light left so did the heat and we retreated into our little cabin with some candles and hit the hay.

Up early the next day for our two hour walk to the oasis, a small fertile area with a few cabins and swimming pools. There were no chairs around our pool so we pulled a few bedspreads out of a couple of the rooms and laid them on the ground in the shade. Dee and Bob ran in to some friends of theirs had a quick chat before we were all called in for lunch. I took one look at the heaping pile of spaghetti with a tiny bit a veggie tomato sauce and just lost it. I should have told them I hate tomato sauce but what was even worse was the guys next to us were having chicken, rice, a whole proper meal. I walked over to the kitchen and told him that the food was crap. I didn't mention that I thought he was crap but I wanted to. I was so freaking hungry and just plain pissed off and even Dee was tired of me complaining about the guy. I was done. I left the rest of my plate and went up to the pool and started foraging in my bag through all the food I'd brought. An apple and some crackers, yum, just what a girl needs before she's about to head out on a three hour walk straight uphill in the heat of the day. 

Walking up out of the canyon was a killer but it was more my legs of lead than my lungs that made it tough. Dee and Bob like to hike quickly and then stop to rest while I'm much happier just going slowly at a constant pace and stopping briefly. We stayed pretty close together that way until the last few turns. I had been, in my head, making up a long list of reasons of why I thought the guide was an asshole. i thought of one that made me so angry and when I went to breathe I just felt as though my trachea had half closed and I just couldn't get air into my lungs. I just stood there holding on to the canyon on one side and focusing on getting my breathing under control. We had come up over 1000 meters in about 2 hours and altitude can be a real bitch. I righted myself and when I turned the next curve to hear Dee call down that the top was really close. I was so happy for it to be over. It was a real test of endurance of which I have none.   

The hostel in Cabanaconde was quite nice with wonderful hot water to get the dust off and of course, dinner was chicken, the chicken he told us we couldn't eat there. We had to be up early yet again to catch the early bus to see the famous wild condors. Our guide lined up early to get us seats but evidently decided to sit with his friends instead of us and when we got off the bus he was no where to be seen. We were lucky to see over a dozen giant condors coming up out of the canyon. A few even flew over our heads stretching out their 3 meter wingspans above us. Very lucky indeed. We lost track of time and all of a sudden our guide ran over to tell us that the bus had arrived. He was saying something to Bob and Dee when I looked and saw the bus leaving. I pointed this out to him and he's just standing there. I yelled at him about three times to go and catch the bus for us. He finally did and we were off. Are you feeling my love for this guy?

Arrived in Chivay by 11am and before we got off the bus a local sitting beside me told me that it would only about 15 cents each to get to the hot springs. When we get off our bus our guide and a taxi driver exchanged smiles and told us it will cost us $3 there and back. I told him what I'd been told and he changed his tune, oh yes, it's only 30 cents each. I could have strangled him. We asked him for our bus tickets home and walked off to the town center for lunch. We never saw him again. Lunch was great and the hot springs were like a dream. They were like being in a big hot bath, except that you could also swim laps. We were the only ones in the outer pool except for two nice Canadian girls with whom we traded travel tips.  The bus trip back was tiring. We had a persistent yelling salesman and our guide had sold his ticket (the one beside me) to a woman who had one seat for her and her 2 children. Back at the i had a little sit down with the manager and explained what had happened. He said he was in shock and even offered to give us some of our money back. God I hate tours. I need a drink.

Lake Titicaca

Our early morning tourist bus to Copacabana was highlighted by an unexpected water crossing. Our bus driver kicked us off the bus and pointed for us to head over to a small dock  where we had to pay and extra 15 cents to cross by a small ferry while our bus got tugged over on a large platform. We were lucky to get a seat near the front as they packed the boat with people with some of them having to stand in the back where the engine was issuing a strong and putrid gas odor. We buried our noses in scarves and sweaters and just prayed for the short ride to end.

We were arriving in Copacabana at the end of a long weekend so there were lots of rooms available and were able to negotiate a great rate and nice hotel in the center of town. We headed down to the waterfront about 100 meters away to try out some famous Lake Titicaca trout. There were about 20 stalls lining the waterfront all serving a whole trout with rice, potatoes and salad for about $2. It was absolutely excellent and very fresh. We decided to take a stroll by the water during which we passed quite a few Bolivians smiling and laughing and very very drunk. A few minutes later a small parade passed us by with even more 'happy' Bolivians. Even the women, who are usually so reserved, were dancing and singing. 

We had wanted to hike in the morning to a small town about 17km from Copa where we could rent a small boat to take us to Isla del Sol but were advised against it by quite a few people because the cost had risen dramatically. We got some great advice from a travel agent to take the boat to the north of the island and walk to the south point where we could catch a small local ferry he next morning to the small town of Yamaputo and hike back from there. We were both glad the next day as our ferry passed the southern port of the island, we looked out and saw the high terraced hill we would have had to climb if we'd gone with our first plan.  We only had about 20 people on our boat so we beat the other fully packed boats to the dock. We quickly headed over to see the small museum before heading onto the path to see some Tiwanaku ruins. The path took a sharp V shaped turn and we headed along it to reach the southern end of the island.  About a 3 hour walk over rolling hills of the island. Walking uphill in altitude was killer but on the whole the walk wasn't too painful and the scenery was definitely worth it. We were 10 minutes from the end when we decided to head down to a small village to see another museum. Big mistake. The museum wasn't nearly worth the 75 degree uphill slog we had to endure. But we made it and wound our way through the town in search of lodging. We found a great place and tossed our small day-packs on the bed before heading out to a nearby restaurant for dinner of quinoa soup and trout (the only things on the menu) and a gorgeous sunset. It grew cold quickly as soon as the sun went down.

We got up early to make it down to local ferry but all we found were men offering to transport us for close to $10. A ridiculous price in Bolivia. We gave up and hopped on a  10:30am ferry back to the mainland.  There's really not much to do in Copacabana. It's a tiny place for relaxing and, I suppose, trout. Surprisingly they have a huge cathedral which is looks amazingly out of place. It's beautiful inside and out and just sooo big. We had our last dinner together at a nearby restaurant and ordered a bottle some Bolivian wine, La Conception, which was surprisingly good. Rachid was off to Cuzco the next day while I needed to wait in Copacabana for Di and Bob to show up to celebrate Bob's birthday! They arrived the in afternoon the next day. Within 5 minutes we also ran into a guy we all new named Lorenzo and a Canadian guy, Ian, that I have been running into in every town I've been in for the past 3 weeks. We all met up that night for Bob's birthday dinner and afterward we headed to a pub with a pool table and crappy 80's videos to keep us amused.

I spent the next morning lazily having beverages and chatting with Ian while we waited for our bus to Puno which is on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca. I can't believe I'm leaving Bolivia! We were at the border within about 20 minutes and in Puno within 4 hours. We walked around for about an hour looking for a hostel but couldn't find a really good one for a good price. We finally settled on one and headed out for dinner and a few hours of Internet before bed. We were up very early due to a noisy family getting themselves out of bed. We were going to walk to the port but Ian had never taken a bicycle rickshaw before. We negotiated a good price and were off. There were dozens of people heading to the port, all booked onto all day tours to see the floating islands. We bought a cheap ticket at the port but had to wait till there were enough people. We lingered over coffee and at 8:30, people streamed in our boat and we were finally underway.

The islands was like nothing I could have expected. They are build of reeds which need to be replenished often. When you walk on the tiny island you feet sink an inch of two in the soft reeds. You almost feel like you need snowshoes. On the first island, women tried heartily to sell us their crafts. There were some big reed boats docked nearby and a guy asked if we wanted to take the boat the next island where our original motor boat would catch up with us. Ian and I and a Canadian couple were about to head off when all the other tourists saw us and piled on as well. It was a great ride and surprisingly comfortable. The next island had a giant reed bird that you could climb and see the islands from up high. I was starving so Ian and I shared a freshly made trout prepared by a local woman before heading off. The third island was covered with children wandering around or playing games. I took a ridiculous number of pictures of kids before it was finally time to get back on the boat for Puno.

Back to the mainland, Ian and I walked across a long stone bridge and immediately found a little minibus heading out towards an old stem ship. Ian's a boat fanatic. Oh those P.E.I.ers. It was cool to see how they were restoring it but my enthusiasm couldn't possible match Ian's.  The guide was a really great guy, obviously very proud of the work they were doing on the boat. We caught a minibus right back into the center of town and had probably the best lunch I've had in almost a month. Salad, soup, entree and fruit salad for dessert. I enjoyed Bolivian food for the most part but I was reminded, while I sat there, just what I'd been missing. We headed over to buy bus tickets at a nearby travel agency but she seemed to smirk when she gave me the price. Ian and I looked at each other and quickly realized that we should just head over to the bus station to fend for ourselves. We hurried back to the hotel, grabbed our bags out of storage and hailed a cab to the station. We were right. I found a bus to Arequipa leaving in 10 minutes for less than half of what the travel agent had offered me. I think Ian found a good deal but I couldn't be sure. We quickly said good bye, traded books and split up. My bus lingered around for about 20 more minutes while people on the bus yelled and stamped their feet for the bus to get moving. One week to get through the rest Peru. The race begins.

A Witches Maket and a Most Dangerous Road

Arrived in La Paz a little bleary from the bus and were immediately approached by a tourist police officer telling us to be careful with our things and how to get to the center. How thoughtful! We caught a cab to our hotel where Di and Bob (friends from Buenos Aires and Brazil) were also staying. The hotel, which was my choice, was crap but we had a great time catching up over dinner. We headed out to find a place for a drink and found ourselves in the middle of a loud fun party at a place called Mongos. Rachid wasn't too happy. Sigh, I hate mixing friends. So many times its a recipe for disaster.

We all headed out early the next day to move closer to the backpacker area. Rachid and I decided to stay at a cheaper place around the corner from Bob and Di. The place had a definite college dorm atmosphere which was fun. We all met up for breakfast passing at least 5 tourist police officers along the way. We all spent the day wandering around the town doing various errands. I ran into Di and Bob a few hours later while I was booking a bike tour. We had a quick bite and arranged to meet up later to see Memoirs of a Geisha at a local theater. Rachid met up with us a bit later for dinner but that wasn't much of a love-fest either.

Shopping, shopping, shopping! The witches market is about 3 blocks of door to door storefronts for Bolivian handicrafts. More scarves, carpets, bags and knick knacks than you've ever seen. Rachid and I shopped for about three hours and only made it down one block. Comparing prices and bargaining are the name of the game as every shop carries virtually the same things but not for the same prices. Back at the hostel I sold Rachid my trusty old hammock and then went out to trade some books at probably the best library of books I've ever seen at a book exchange. Unfortunately there was a reason for that. The guy was a complete bastard and tried to trade six of my books for only one of his. Ya, right. I worked some negotiating magic and ended up with TWO of his books. Oh yeah, I'm good. In fairness, the two books I got are ones I've been craving for months and half the books I gave him were pretty worthless.

We all met up for dinner but five minutes in, Rachid bailed out and went to a movie. He hated the gringo places we kept going to with their amped up western music. Di, Bob and I chilled over beers and the fun amped up music before heading home. I woke up from a bad dream at about 3am, looked over and saw that Rachid wasn't back yet. My mind raced for about 5 minutes over whether he'd been kidnapped. All the tourist talk is about two Austrians who were kidnapped and killed a few months ago. Thank heavens I heard the buzzer go off downstairs about five minutes later and he walked in the door. I got up early the next day to finish my shopping so that I could post a package back home before the post office closed. I walked out onto the street and was shocked to see the street bare and all the doors closed. The shopkeepers were all on strike for the morning to protest theft and violence against tourists. When everything finally opened up at 1pm I rushed around and picked up a few last things before heading to the post. So now my backpack is as light as a feather. A big, big feather. Ended the day at an Asian restaurant that we'd seen a few days before. It was utterly amazing. All the spices and flavors were perfect. I went all out and got a seafood green curry that was outstanding with a little tiny lobster swimming on top. Absolute heaven. The best meal I've had in ages! 

Sunday was my big day. My bike trip down 65km of 'the most dangerous road'. I was pretty nervous as I would not in any way call myself a proper mountain biker but I steeled myself. My brakes felt a bit soft compared to some of the other bikes but they told me it was fine. this didn't do much for my confidence. The top part of the road was all paved and passed through two drug checkpoints which we walked through. We had to pedal through a vicious uphill part which nearly killed me before I gave up and got into the van with pretty much everyone else. The unpaved most dangerous road began steeply but I got braver as we went along stopping as a group every now again to get out of the way of trucks coming up the hill. I wasn't in the speedy front group, but just behind them with a Japanese guy whose pace was just challenging enough for me. I did almost take a spill a few times but all in good fun. The hardest part was trying not to look at the scenery while driving. You'd come around a blind corner and see the deep green valley dropping off not two meters from you. By the time I made it down I was filthy. I got two little white stripes on the sides of my head from all the dust and I swear I looked like my mother. Aaaaiigghh!

We had a brief stop at Hotel Esmeralda for a buffet lunch before heading back. Lots of people stay at the hotel for a few nights but it was just too Disneyland for me. Pool, sauna, terrace. Really comfy but not Bolivia.  Three hours driving back to town up the most dangerous road. I met Rachid for dinner and crashed as soon as my head hit the pillow. Rachid wanted to leave the next day but he finally agreed to stay one more day to just relax and get ourselves sorted out. It was May Day and we went for a walk down to Plaza San Francisco were people were gathered in celebration. Got some great people pictures and just enjoyed the day. La Paz is a tiring city because you always have to walk up a hill either going or coming. It was nice to just take it easy. When we were booking our tourist bus out to Copacabana for the next day we heard all the tourists grumbling about a bus driver strike. Apparently tourists (and locals) are stuck where ever they are unless they find other means of transport until the strike runs its course.  Gosh, we've been so lucky.

I ran into a Canadian guy who has been traveling on the same circuit as me. We had a chat over beer before finally exchanging email info and heading our separate ways. I booked it downtown to try and find a guy dealing World Cup cards who I'd seen a few days before. I found him and he had everything! I got all 60 cards I needed to complete my book for $2.50. I gave him all my duplicates and he was thrilled. I got Ronaldinho! and I'm keeping an extra Beckham for luck!