California... California... here we come!
16 June 2008
Hola from Baja California Sur!
We finally made it to Mexico after talking about this trip for a very long time, planning it across continents, making a feeble attempt to learn Spanish (which didn´t help at all), flying a great distance and then meeting up in San Francisco.
For the last 2 weeks Danny and I have either been in a plane or in a car. I flew here from Nueva Zealanda and Danny from Ingleterra. We met up in San Francisco on 7 June, well, I got there a couple of days before to get over some jet-lag before the fun all began.
San Francisco
I arrived in SF after one hellish flight - I stupidly jumped on a plane with the worst cold in history and my sinuses exploded on the way down. Not cool. I would give birth over having that pain again. After an hour of agony coming down and spurting blood everywhere I got off the plane, breezed through customs with the most friendly customs guy ever asking me every detail about my trip which sounded more for his own interests than national security, jumped on the Bart Train into downtown and eventually arrived at the Pacific Trade Winds Hostel.
I have never felt old or super experienced in my life. In this place I did. It was full of 20 year old backpackers from Ireland off to work in the USA on their J1 visa - the same thing I did when I was their age. They were lovely and they were pissed, all the time. Luckily I met this fantastic German Girl (what is it with me ALWAYS meeting random Germans when I travel??) and we hit it off immediately so planned to meet up the next morning after sleeping off the bad flight. First off though, determined to stay awake a few more hours, I hit the shops.
I returned to the Gap. It´s been 6 years and for some reason, and although I wrote my Masters Thesis on sweatshop labour, I LOVE IT. I stocked up. Got underwear, socks, tops and flip flops which are now rubbing my feet to the death and I regret that purchase...
Happy from the Gap I returned to the rest of my old hangouts... Victoria´s Secret which was overwhelming, Borders, Macys, Old Navy and a whole lot more. Luckily credit card limits and a tiny cash budget limited my severe need to buy something from all of them so I merely escaped with a book from Borders which I have yet to sit down properly to read.
Made my way back to the hostel through Chinatown, picked up a subway for dinner and regretted it - no matter what type of sandwich you get from there it ALL TASTES THE SAME. Yuck. Went to sleep, some guy snored louder than me (a great thing) and I woke up the next day from my cold and flu drug 12 hours of snooze. Brilliant stuff. Go Coldrex.
My next day in SF was AMAZING. Cool German Girl and I rented bikes for the day and rode all over town. We started in Little Italy, went down to Fishermans Wharf, past the beaches, and up over the Golden Gate Bridge. That structure is colossal and rather incredible. We continued onwards past the sea lions and surfers to Sausalito, saw a guy with a dog sleeping on his guitar singing away and occasionally bursting out with "Peace, love and hugs, keeps you off drugs" and caught the ferry back to town. Returned the bikes, had lunch of Thai food (portions huge), walked back through Little Italy, stopped at City Lights book store and went back to the hostel and its many young Irish backpackers for an afternoon nap.
That night I caught up with a Couch Surfer, lovely Cynthia from Colorado who is so cool, walked all over town and went to Sex and the City. What a movie!!! I LOVED IT and am definitely buying it on DVD. The movie was great but so was the actual cinema as well. Google up Kabuki Sundance Cinema San Francisco. I sat in the Over 21 section with a cocktail in hand on the table beside me and reclined in my lazy boy chair with hundreds of other females in their 20s and 30s. The movie began and they cheered. Oh how they cheered and squealed with delight. There we were, all with our Cosmos, them all looking gorgeous (I had walked all over town at this point and looked almost nasty) in their heels and amazing outfits and perfectly done make-up, watching the movie we´d all been dying to see since the series abruptly ended.
Great night over, I went to bed and got another wonderful coldrex induced sleep. The next day (Saturday 7 June) I´d see Danny again for the first time in 7 months.
So he arrived, we braved the line for a car at Avis in SF International Airport and we traffic jammed it all the way back to our new hostel, where we didn´t feel so old, in the Tenderloin, also San Francisco´s ghetto. (It´s hardly the ghetto Kat).
That night we walked and walked. Then slept (another coldrex induced sleep). While walking this crazy man came up to us and asked for a hug... so I hugged him and then got yelled at "GO BACK TO AUSTRALIA!" Charming.
We woke up the next day to do Danny´s massive and exhausting tour of San Francisco, I won´t bore you with all the details but it was great! Highlight had to be somehow walking into a free country music concert. Kenny Chesney was playing that night at the Giants baseball stadium and all the rednecks in the local area had come out early to party before hand. I was certainly the smallest person there. They were all out, cowboy hats on, big donut filled bellies and names like Betty Sue and Wayne in their all their glory. It was fabulous! There was even a Marines recruiting stand and a lot of guys unsuccessfully doing pull-ups to prove they can be in. I had country tunes stuck in my head for the rest of the day. Gotta love it. We went to Pier 39 which was mad, lots of sea lions flopping about and loads of Americans oohing and ahhing at all the cheesy souvenir shops, including a shop for left handers - welcome home Kat and Danny!
That night we ate at this fantastic restaurant called the Shalimar. Pakistani and super cheap and super good. One of the best curries I´ve ever had. America was making me fatter and fatter by the minute. I'm hoping to catch a bug like I did in India to get rid of all that!!!
Monday morning we got up relatively early, did more of Danny´s super long tour of San Francisco in the searing heat (they had a heatwave and I did not need recommended coat or skinny jeans). We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, over to Berkely where there was absolutely nothing going on, through Oakland, back to SF, down the world´s windiest street, up to the Coit Tower, back down past the Victorian Houses as seen in the introduction to Full House (yay!) and finished off at 826 Valencia, San Francisco´s only licensed Independent Pirate Shop. Yes mi harties. Then we hit the Pacific Coast Highway for a stunning drive to Monterey. Loved San Francisco, wearing flowers in my hair and sitting on the dock of the bay, wasting time. Brilliant, if not super expensive, and great city. Can´t wait to go back.
The Pacific Coast Highway
There´s not a huge amount to tell here except that there´s a huge amount of driving involved. We stayed with some really cool Couch Surfers in Monterey who are actually moving to Ghana next week, went through Carmel - the town of which Clint Eastwood is Mayor (nice place too), tried to get to Hearst Castle but it was shut by the time we got there and also cost $28.50 each to get in, saw a massive colony of elephant seals which smelled worse than Danny when he got off the plane, spent the night in San Luis Obispo which is a gorgeous college town, and got to LA.
LA was hilarious. By the time we eventually got there we were both grumpy as heck. Drove through Malibu and pretended we were on Bay Watch and realised we could never in a million years afford to live there, saw Santa Monica Pier, drove past Venice Beach and then up to Hollywood in a lot of traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard.
In Hollywood I tried to get a picture of a cool star but all I could get was Bob Hope. Hollywood is just as I pictured it - super sleazy and dirty yet also very cool.
After Hollywood we headed for our hostel in "Huntington Beach". Only for me to realise about an hour into our drive that we were actually booked into a hostel in Hermosa Beach. Oops. We somehow got off the 20 lane highway in Compton. Oops.
We eventually got to Hermosa Beach only to realise that it´s America´s college party capital. The room in Surf City Hostel shook all night to the reggae music playing outside it and we had frequent interruptions of "Duuuuude, I am WASTED." Somehow we weren´t grumpy the next day, but we still felt old.. Got up the next morning to drive to San Diego.
First stop - Newport Beach to look at the rich. Very cool and we now felt fat, very poor and still old.
Next stop - Laguna Beach. Still felt the same.
So we drove on to San Diego. Got there in time for once to actually see some stuff. We got there in perfect time for the end of a baseball game and everyone coming out of it (we had actually aimed to get there in time for the start so we could see it but Danny read the time wrong and it started at 12pm California time, not New York time). Oops.
But we saw heaps of San Diego anyway, really liked it, and then crashed that night with Ginger and Jeff, two very cool and funny couch surfers who took us for dinner at at place called World Curry which included a dish from England called Tikka Masala... ;)
The next morning it was time to say Goodbye to America and Buenos Dias to Mexico. Loved America, spent all my trip money though, and am super glad to be in Mexico now. Danny´s also hoping my map reading skills will improve the further South we go... I keep getting us lost. DANNY:(They haven´t improved and I think I´ll just read my own maps from now on!)
Baja California, Mexico
We crossed over into Mexico at the most laid-back border crossing I´ve ever seen. We actually had to search for someone to stamp our passports, then find a place to return our departure card to the USA and then walk all the way back to find our rental car place. After a taxi driver ripping us off as is my typical border experience we got to Avis, learned about Mexican time and how long it takes for bureaucracy to work here, and jumped in the smallest manual car ever. Danny looks like a giant driving it, I however find it perfect.
We stocked up on water and granola bars (a former addiction of mine), unsuccessfully tried to get money out, and started our way down Mexico Highway One. It´s meant to be Mexico´s nicest highway yet it´s still full of potholes. Our little car handled it with greatness. Danny still won´t let me put the air-con on so we drive it with warm air bursting at us constantly. I have never sweated so much in my life.
We were determined to get as far away from Tijuana as possible so that night spent the evening at the beginning of Baja´s desert in a tiny village called El Rosario and stayed in a gorgeous hotel for only US$30. I chomped down my first fish tacos, a famous Baja dish and Danny had a fish that he loved and wouldn´t shut up about. :) Everything here is cheap and this is meant to be the expensive part of Mexico so my bank account should be kept relatively happy from now on.
The next morning we woke up for the longest and hottest drive ever. Danny still wouldn´t let me have the aircon on. "We need to save petrol Kat. You don´t need air-con, we have the breeze." GAAAAAHHHH!!!! The desert was absolutely fantastic and I was super glad we didn´t have a breakdown. Was also super glad I didn´t need to go to the loo much as there were NO LOO STOPS anywhere.
After 10 hours of driving in the searing heat with no air-con, we got to Mulege, a desert oasis and also stinking hot with humidity. It was a rather lovely town and we had a good meal by the beach after going on a wild goose chase for Bill, a local couch-surfer who wasn´t home. Collapsed into bed that night in a tiny hotel, and both woke up 10 hours later from a non-coldrex induced sleep. We found breakfast in a great place (having learned our lesson from the day before as not only were their no loo stops, there were also no food stops, or we drove past them in our little katmobiel at 100km per hour), filled our bellies and then went to visit Bill, who actually turned out to be a super cool guy who has been in Mexico for a very long time but originates from Texas and has a brilliant Texas drawl only accentuated by many a great life experience.
We then got on the road to La Paz. Which is where I finish this for today. We´re both comatose from driving so much in the non-air-con heat so have stopped here for a couple of days before we re-trace our steps back up to Tijuana. There´s only one main road here so we have to go back the exact same way. Luckily the way down was great so we´re doing the exact same thing without the air-con (I will die, I know it), to stay with Bill this time, to eat at Mamma Espinozas and then catch a flight on Friday to Guadalajara which is where you may next hear from me. Until then, Adios, and have a great day.
Hasta Manana! Kat.
Friday 20 June 2008
So everything was perfectly planned... we were to leave La Paz on Tuesday afternoon and arrive at Bill's place in Mulege in time for shrimp tacos at dinner. We were total Baja experts by this point.
Everything started off perfectly, we were on Highway 1, breezing through the constant military checkpoints, car was being remarkable with gas, and it wasn't even that hot. I drove the first two-hour shift and then Danny took over while I napped. I was out to it and with no navigator we missed our turn-off. Having no idea of this we kept driving, the road was nice, the scenery kind of unfamiliar but it was a big road so we probably had passed the stuff at some point. I woke up and we took some pictures of the desert, and kept driving. The next thing we were in a tiny oasis town and I KNEW we'd gone in the wrong direction, argued with Danny about it and then came to a compromise to take this side road which would get us to Santa Rosalia (close to Mulege) in plenty of time for dinner. It would be a breeze.
It wasn't.
But we continued anyway.
We passed through two very small villages on a dirt road and kept going. On the road the map appeared to be 30km at most. The road quickly became the worst we've ever seen and our two-wheel drive was certainly not the right car for it. We were driving over massive rocks with sand and red dirt everywhere, there were pot-holes and the road was windy and bumpy as any third world rural road could ever wish to be. With the exception of the odd rancho there was no civilisation to be found in any which direction for a very long way.
We debated turning around but just assumed that this bad road would only be like this for a couple of hours so we just kept on going.
At Mile 32 there came a detour in the road which we took.
The next thing we were stuck in sand. It was deep sand and our little two-wheel drive chevy was not going anywhere. The wheels were spinning, we tried digging it out with the sun setting behind us, succeeded once and then got stuck again. It was getting dark and we were well and truly screwed. We gave up when the engine started smoking.
CRAP.
With the sun setting all we could do was try and walk to the nearest settlement, a tiny rancho, about 5km away on the rock covered hill of a road. Walking along we had no idea how the car actually got that far. After about 15 minutes of walking and trying not to freak out we were super lucky - a truck came past!
It was three people - an old couple and their 40 something son. They were hardened rancheros who put us in the back of their ute not quite knowing what to do with us and then drove on. We passed the nearest ranch which wasn't theirs and began to watch the sunset. It was the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen and I wish I'd taken a picture of it. Bright orange on one side with cactus in the foreground, purple with a bright almost full moon on the other side. Mind blowing and it was the silver lining, that's for sure.
After an hour of driving and getting further and further away from our tiny little chevy we arrived at the ranch the family lived on. There was nothing there - merely a shelter, three beds, some dogs and goats - no electricity, light or running water. No one knew what to do. They couldn't communicate with us and our phrasebook Spanish was certainly not helping. And they certainly didn't have the room for us to wait until the morning. Eventually just as it had become completely dark and Danny and I were starting to panic, the 40 year old son got up, and drove us in a huff to the nearest town - still another hour's drive away.
We got to a place called San Isidro, a tiny village, only to find they had no phone or cell phone reception so we couldn't phone Bill, which had been our original plan, to get advice on how to get out of our situation. Luckily the only English speaker in the region happened to be drinking right where 40 year old ranch guy took us. Alfonso the Great became our guardian angel. 40 year old ranch guy wanted A LOT of money from us and was not going to help us move our car until we dished it out. US$130 later we were on the road back to our car with Alfonso the Great, 40 Year old Ranch Guy (who we later found out had a name, it was Rodolfo), Danny and myself all squeezed into the front of 40 Year old Ranch Guy's ute.
The drive took an eternity but luckily Alfonso the Great was desperate to practice his english so we were certainly not bored ever. We covered every topic of conversation from why Mexicans have lots of babies (according to Alfonso the Great, boredom) to his time as an illegal immigrant in the USA, to how much everyone hates George Bush, about the cougars and panthers and rattlesnakes that are all over the desert and probably near (or in) our car, and to what a wonderful cook Alfonso the Great is.
We eventually got back to Mile 32 to find our car free from cougars, panthers and rattlesnakes, but still completely stuck in the sand. After a good towing attempt she was out. And remarkably able to start!!! So 40 Year old Ranch Guy drove behind us while Alfonso the Great guided Danny to drive out of there. It was 32 miles and 2 hours of hell driving back. But Danny's remarkable driving and Alfonso the Great's dreadful but delightful singing got us back to San Isidro all in one dusty dirty piece (I was in the back desperately trying not to look at the road and hoping like crazy we didn't get a puncture as 40 Year old Ranch Guy had gone back to his rancho). Danny gave our car a name - it deserved one - and we're now driving a tiny two-wheel drive chevy called Jalisco. Alfonso the Great wanted nothing from us except to see that we got a decent few hours sleep in the town's only motel (sparse but still a bed). That guy is the most amazing person I will ever come across in the middle of a desert. Without him who knows what would have happened.
With about 4 hours sleep we needed to make up driving time as well as backtrack about 3 hours to Mexico Highway One and try not to run out of petrol before we got to the nearest gas station (108km from San Isidro). Jalisco the tough little chevy made it to the Pemex gas station completely on empty. That car deserves to become a saint. We got to Mulege about 5 hours later, apologised to Bill who had been waiting for us the night before, and continued on to drive in 2 hour shifts all the way to El Rosario, at the far North end of the desert.
After 13 hours of driving on only 4 hours sleep (excluding the naps we'd been taking in shifts) we got to El Rosario safe but extremely dirty, ate and then collapsed into bed after the longest night and fullest day in history. We had made it, hadn't lost our cool at any point and deserved a good long shower and night of sleep.
The next morning we woke up clean and rested, hung out in El Rosario til lunchtime and then drove to Rosarito close to Tijuana. We spent last night with Antonio, a couch surfer here who was awesome and a great guy. And now we're off to fly over to Guadalajara.
Word to the wise, if you're driving on a bad road that you're not meant to be on, just turn around. Luckily we came out with a great story to tell. Just wish we'd taken pictures of that sunset.
Kat.
9 July 2008 - Panama
I know... it has been an eternity since I last wrote. I can now officially be called useless when it comes to updating these things!
Since I last left you we dug ourselves out of the Baja Desert and flew to Guadalajara to stay wtih my friend Ana-Paula Gonzalez, a Mexican friend of mine who I met in London. We had a great few days with her in her hometown and ate a lot of tacos, a few more tacos, and a few more tacos. Danny now hates tacos, I still crave them big time. Now that we´re not in Guacamole territory anymore I miss Mexican food big time. Everything we've had since has been either rice and beans, some gooey bland stuff or else it's been deep fried beyond recognition. And best of all.. we're running out of money so I have to share it all with Danny. Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I love my food and like to keep it all to myself! But I'm slowly coping with it, and who knows, maybe one day I'll be happy to share the culinary delights (or gooey bland stuff) that I get the pleasure of trying all over the world.
Guadalajara was fantastic. We spent one day at this fantastic waterfall, and the other days trying to find a place for me to get a yellow fever injection. I stupidly didn't check that I'd had all my shots and and forgot to buy Malaria pills before leaving NZ. Luckily the malaria pills were easy to find. Getting a yellow fever jab was another story. We looked all over town (which is enormous!) for almost two days trying to find a hospital that would give it to me... with no luck at all. We were passed around from pharmacy to hospital to Red Cross to pharmacy to hospital until we gave up.
Ana-Paula and her friends were really fun. We had a great time drinking and eating tacos with her and wish she was still with us. But sadly we had to leave her and get a bus to Oaxaca via Mexico City. 16 hours and two long bus rides later we were there.
Oaxaca was beautiful. And also the ideal place to get this stupid yellow fever jab! The owner of our hostel turned out to have an uncle who was a doctor and showed me exactly where to get it. So the morning after we arrived there, we got up at 7am and went to wait in line at a chaotic but organised Oaxacan hospital (the line wrapped around the block). An hour later, with my arm and ego in pain, we walked out all yellow fevered up. We spent our day in Oaxaca walking around and eating - an old Spanish colonial settlement famous for its chocolate, Oaxaca was the perfect place to do both. Highlight was eating 1/2 a kilo of bbqed meat in this market where a different person sells you your guacemole (YUM!), your tortillas, your salsa and your coke. It was delightful and I left knowing I'd be joining a gym the moment I get to London...
Lowlight was tasting this stuff that looked like ground up chillies only to realise moments later that the entire basket was moving and we had actually eaten tequila worms. NASTY!!!!!
We then caught an overnight bus to San Christobol which is another old colonial settlement, gorgeous and also our first exposure to the Mayan people, beautiful and very short who also hate people taking their pictures. We went to a museum about Mayan medicine there, and I left rather disturbed after watching a video of a Mayan woman giving birth - they do it on their knees and it comes out backwards! Ouch.
We only spent a night in San Christobol before jumping on a bus to San Pedro, Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. We ended up there for five days and had a magic time. There was a big festival on which was great but kept waking us up with massive fireworks, even at 6am. It went on all week while we did Spanish lessons, slept a lot and enjoyed the amazing view we had from our guesthouse. We spent one day going to another village on the lake which was home to a cult. We decided not to join...
The five days in San Pedro flew by. We really loved it there. It was one of the few places I've been where they actively wear the traditional costume. The women looked extremely elegant and proud of their culture. It was nice and sadly the last time we'd see some strong sense of culture in Central America. San Pedro was also home to an awful lot of hippies and backpackers getting stoned there and these random women walking abound selling these enormous chocolate cakes... which they carried on their heads and only sold late at night. Bizarre.
We left Guatemala to get to Copan Ruinas in Honduras. They're a set of Mayan ruins, and though not on the same scale as Angkor, still very impressive. It was after Copan that we started the long bus rides from hell. First was a long day to Tegulcigapa, the capital of Honduras and very ugly and dangerous. We were only there overnight and regretfully had Chinese for dinner which was the nearest place we could go in fear of getting shot or mugged. We regretted it early the next morning when we jumped on the Tika bus, only for Danny to get massively ripped into by the bus conductor when he took too long in the loo. I have never ever laughed that hard. We bused it to Managua, the capital of Nicaragua, another horrible dangerous city which I will never go back to thank you. We broke the bus rides with a day in Granada which was gorgeous and we walked around and ate a lot there (sharing the food of course!!!). Then it was back to Managua to catch a bus to San Jose, Costa Rica, another awful dangerous dirty city which I hope I never have to go back to. We overnighted there in a hostel full of young American backpackers drinking beer and smoking weed. We went straight to bed realising we're getting a bit old for these hostels.
And finally we got on a bus to Panama from San Jose. We went through a crazy border crossing with a broken bridge and a lot of mosquitos to arrve here in Bocas del Toro the day before yesterday. It's lovely here and we've been enjoying the caribbean atmosphere with people who say ýa man a lot. Danny tried snorkelling for the first time yesterday and it's been nice to be in a place that's super laid back and not over-run by backpackers.
Tonight we're jumping on a bus to Panama City to see the canal and then it's off to Bolivia on Saturday morning. Can't wait to get to South America.
Hope you're all doing well and having a blast wherever you are in the world. To those in London, I've booked my ticket down for Saturday 16 August. I can't wait to see you!
K.
15 August 2008 - Bolivia
It's been forever since I updated this and now I'm fully regretting it! There's a lot to cover and I only have a few hours before having to pack my stuff and jump on a train down to London.
Since I last wrote I flew from Panama where I had a magic time hanging out with Lloyd, a Panamanian who is half Scotish, Half Jamacian and with the most incredible eyes I've ever seen. We only had a couple of days and didn't do a huge amount except check out the Canal with was awesome and huge, and hang out with Lloyd and his buddies, a lot of whom work for the UN. After an incredible night out in Panama City with Lloyd as DJ we left for La Paz Bolivia, spending 20 hours in various airports trying to get there. If we'd paid $2000 we could have had a direct 6-7 hour flight, instead for our $750 we got to stop in San Jose, Costa Rica and Lima, Peru for some insane amount of transfer time. Needless to say, we were barely speaking by the time we arrived in La Paz, the world's highest capital city.
Having gone from 1 metre above sea level to close to 4,000 metres we really felt the altitude. We were barely able to breathe let alone walk properly. I very nearly collapsed waiting in line for customs who felt it necessary to only stamp Danny's passport for 8 days. When he went back to change it to 14 they decided he'd be better off with 40 and just scribbled on it. We jumped in a cab into downtown La Paz (at this point it was 2am, the same time we'd left for the airport the day before) as our lungs desperately tried to adjust to the altitude. We could actually hear eachother breathing and we were only sitting down.
We were dropped off at the Onkell Inn where we'd booked a "double" only to find that it was actually a double matress in a dorm packed with 20 young backpackers, pretty much each one of whom we managed to wake up... oops. We both drifted off into a fairly breathless sleep.
Luckily our lungs were happy enough the next morning that we slept through all the young backpackers leaving and awoke around 10am to find that all the free breakfast was gone and the only things left were some brown bananas and stale bread. Excited by food alone we dug in and realised that even eating was going to take too much energy. We spent the rest of the day alternating walking about 10 paces at a time before running out of breath with stops for empanadas and gelatos... Not much at all was done.
Our day spent within the same three blocks (the maximum distance we could walk) meant that we'd picked out La Paz's finest dining spots. We managed to pick out the world's slowest service. My vegetarian lasagne arrived 40 minutes after ordering it, Danny's Llama steak (ordered as a joke) about an hour after that... luckily the once cute and furry thing turned out to be damned tasty and we left rather content and keen to have it again. The waitress didn't get a tip.
We collapsed that night (literally) into a new hotel, Hotel Sucre, which though freezing at least gave us our own room. Going to the loo in the middle of the night in Bolivia is not recommended - I went back to bed dying of cold. I swear that place is the coldest place on earth, and we were to experience a lot more of it over the next week.
Monday morning we made our best efforts to get out of bed for 9am and get down to the travel agent quick smart to book our tours we'd need for the next week (we didn't have enough time or effort in us to do a large chunk of it independently), stopped at a book exchange in the world's most wannabe English pub Oliver's Travels then went out to prepare ourselves for more cold. Ugly Llama Jumpers, hats and gloves here we come... They're all left behind in Chile now. It was then time to jump on a bus to Copacabana, gateway to Lake Titicaca and the Isla del Sol which we'd climb the following morning.
Sleep that night was cold. Luckily we'd warmed up with Quinoa Soup and fresh trout from a great little restaurant down the road from our hotel (which we managed to lock ourselves out of by leaving the key in the room... and it took seemingly hours for the owner to find his spare). Eating in Bolivia was turning into a surprisingly good treat and so much better than anything we'd eaten since Guatemala.
We woke up the next morning freezing (even with ugly llama jumpers on), stuffed down an empanada (which I started to despise already) with a snickers bar (which I will never despise~) and jumped on the world's slowest boat. Oh my god, how much more irritating can you get than 3 loud English girls bitching about every single one of their friends to an entire boat!!? The boat was packed, hot (especially in our ugly llama jumpers) and with everyone in their worst of morning moods giving these girls dagger eyes. I'm sorry but I don't care that Becky hasn't had a boyfriend in 6 years because she's too nuts and has bad taste in shoes and that Cynthia really needs to do something about that dreadful fringe.
Three hours later we were there. Isla del Sol is the place where the Incas worshipped the Sun Gods before being obliterated by the Spanish. I can see why they loved it there - the island is literally bathed in sun and surrounded by aztec blue waters. It's absolutely divine and we were able to shed the ugly llama wool jumpers within 30 minutes of arriving. Oh how we walked (puffing away like a long term smoker as we were still adjusting to the altitude) - up hills, down hills, across hills and over them. We were exhausted but happy as we checked out ancient ruins and outstanding views of Lake Titicaca and the mountain ranges behind it. Unfortunately due to our high dependency on the llama jumpers in the morning we forgot to pack sunblock and studpidly underestimated the impact the high altitude sun (though we were cold all day) would have on us... We left with painful memories of sunburn and angry Bolivian women (took a picture of their Llamas... oops) but having had a fabulous day.
That night we changed hostels to a warmer and slightly cheaper one. Had hot showers (hooray!!), stepped out into another town festival and ate at the same place as we'd eaten the night before (that Quinoa soup was too good not to go back).
On Wednesday 16 July we got up, had breakfast of pizza (I know, it's supposed to be a cultural experience rah rah rah...), bought some souvenirs and jumped on a bus with no suspension back to La Paz.
Luckily on the way back we got quite a little treat. Bolivia's Navy (Bolivia is a landlocked country... if you want to know more about what happened to their sea check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_of_the_Pacific) happened to be parading through the town where we got a bus ferry from. Very cute - most of them were shorter than me! Our bus drove onto a wooden bus ferry across a tiny stretch of Lake Titicaca while we took a jet boat. If you'd seen the ferry it was on you'd understand why we took an alternative mode of transport.
That night was spent checking out a musem about Coca and how it makes all sorts of things from Coca Cola to Cocaine to treatments for altitude sickness and the rest, as well as dinner at an expat place where Danny met another Everton supporter.
The next morning was started super early. Why? We were to bike down the World's Most Dangerous Road... Check out http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=DqPJ6nLtQ5o. Initially when thinking about doing this I told Danny "If you want to bike off a cliff then you're doing it alone, I'd rather keep my life thank you." I really didn't want to do it, but was convinced and it turned out to be the best US$70 I spent on this trip. Watch the You Tube clip and you'll understand. Sheer cliff drops and incredible views were constant features as well as our guide Dan telling us many stories of those who hadn't made it to the end. One story was of government opposition leaders being taken there in the middle of the night, made to think about their political ideologies and loyalties and then pushed to their deaths... charming!
We survived and were taken to an animal refuge at the end and welcomed with a free all you can eat pasta buffet. Yum.
On Friday we woke up at 1000 metres, able to breathe and then jumped on a bus back up to La Paz (again) at 4000 metres... Luckily we took the less dangerous road which still had some incredible views. That afternoon we did a massive load of laundry (which we would end up wearing all of for the next 5 days), bought thermals and ate some dodgy food before jumping on an overnight bus to Uyuni where we would start a 3 day tour of the Bolivian desert and famous Salaar Uyuni salt flats.
I really wish I hadn't eaten that afternoon. On the bus I was bugged with the stomach bug from hell and we had just two loo stops. It was agony and we turned up in Uyuni with me in tears desperate to get fixed before we jumped in a jeep. Luckily an English speaking pharmacist had quite the remedy and come 11am I was well and ready for possibly the best 3 days of our entire trip.
We jumped in a jeep with 7 other people: Paul and Emily, a brother and sister from Wisconsin, Lora and Fred, a couple from Switzerland, our driver Adeleide, his wife the chef (who's name escapes me) and their 1 year old daughter, the most well behaved toddler in history. We began the day with a lot of small talk but by the end (partly due to being constantly squished against eachother) we were all getting along wonderfully.
First stop was at the start of a desert wasteland and also a train cemetry for retired trains from the old mining days. It was random and cool and my camera batteries decided to die there so we've got very few pictures. All the same - it was great and if my one picture up of it isn't enough just Wikipedia Train Cemetry. It was all class.
Then it was on to a salt mining town that sold salt souvenirs on salt tables by a salt hotel. It was also home to one of the dullest museums I have ever seen. Luckily we moved on fairly quickly once checking out their salt squat loos which go down as some of the worst I've ever seen, almost ranking with China.
The real highlight of Bolivia then started. The Salt Flats, or Salar Uyuni, were an expanse of bright white that went for miles on end with no interruptions. Highly impressive and what we lack in train photos you can check out in pictures of us jumping up and down on bright sheets of whiteness. We had lunch in the middle of the flats on the one thing that interrupts the flats - an island which once sat in the sea that was the salt flats. There we had beautiful steak and were starting to get rather comfortable with our tour. We spent the rest of the day crossing the flats, most of us fast asleep due to us all being on the overnight bus from hell the night before.
Our sleeping arrangements for the evening were very basic - a bare room with three iron beds with thin pillows and a very thin paned window with several cracks taped up on it, bare concrete walls and floors. We knew we were in for a very cold night. There was no heating at all in the place.
We spent the night drinking tea to warm up and talked until dinner was ready - a let-down from our beautiful lunch but we stuffed the vegetarian spag bol down all the same.
We froze that night thinking we may never feel cold like that again (actually, we would feel it much worse on day two). Luckily the tour guides rented us sleeping bags from doom which we cocooned in, and we were still making use of the ugly llama jumpers which would be our eternal companions while in a place this cold.
On day two of the jeep tour we woke up feeling the cold in our bones, didn't even think about changing our clothes and went straight for breakfast. We were rewarded well with pancakes, cups of tea and our first experience of dulche de leche, a spread that would come a terrible addiction for me over the next 5 weeks... We were on the road by 8 with our bellies warm and bodies exhausted from playing an early morning of high altitude catch the stress ball - which I managed to catch once out of the 20 or more times it was thrown my way.
The morning was spent stopping at huge lakes and volcanoes but the highlight had to be two lakes which were filled with hot pink flocks of flamingos - wow. They stank but the colours against the ice of the lakes they were in and massive islands of bird poo against a backdrop of a bright blue sky were outstanding. We spent the rest of the day going past spectacular desert scenery and trying desperately to avoid getting out of the jeep - when not in the sun this part of the world is unbarably cold!!
Accommodation that night was still basic but this time we were treated to a fire place which didn't work as well as we'd hoped. The temperature dropped to minus 30 degrees celsius. Unless you're an eskimo then you can't imagine that kind of cold. It was pure utter evil. We went out to look at the stars and lasted about 30 seconds. The view was amazing but our eyes started to freeze! That night was spent in all my clothes including ugly llama jumper, coat, jeans, thermals and a few more things.
We woke up at 5:30am to it being even colder, and this time with a nice blast of wind to make it extra special. Cold was felt in every single pore in my body and everyone elses. Everytime we got back into the jeep our feet would start to thaw and we'd all be in agony. Breakfast was had at a thermal lake after stopping to look at some gysers. We were given the option of jumping in to get warm with about 30 crazy others but after seeing people hang their bikinis and boxer shorts which were frozen into shape and wouldn't actually fold while their bodies went bright blue we declined and opted to be near our jeep where Adeleide's wife was making us tea (which went cold the moment it was poured into the cup) and fritters with dulche de leche (aahhhh).
We all jumped back into the jeep after breakfast thinking no more stops... But Adeleide the driver had one more trick for us in store. He wanted us to experience the real cold and thought it would be funny to make us get out of the jeep while he sped off and made us meet him 500 metres away. The wind was howling and we could barely stand let alone walk back to it. That people was the coldest moment of my life and I hope to never experience that again. Danny was laughing - how that guy stays warm I do not know. We got back into our jeep all rather humourless to start the painful thaw again. Ouch.
Next stop was the Chilean border, the world's windiest (as in gusty) border crossing and also where we said goodbye to Adeleide, his wife and daughter, and the two Americans who were turning back to Uyuni and onwards to Peru. With the Swiss couple we were ushered into a bright white heated (hooray!) van, had our passports stamped, drove down the dirt trail we'd been following for three days, fell asleep and 10 minutes later woke up to a bang - we'd hit tar sealed roads and the amazing highway of Chile and the world of modernity. We farewelled that magical country of extremes where we tested our bodies limits and saw some of the most incredible scenery on earth. Bolivia is one of those places that I would recommend everyone go to at least once in their lives. It was a truely outstanding place.
CHILE
Our nice white mini-bus drove us to the San Pedro de Atacama border post on a lovely paved road. It was the first non-pot-holed road we'd been on since Panama and we felt like we were floating on air. The only thing that shook the first-world image was a very slow customs desk telling an Australian couple who'd left their passports on a jeep in Bolivia that they'd have to make the three-day trek all the way back to La Paz, and one heck of a dust storm which assaulted every pocket and crevice. It took days to get rid of the dirt from my bad, shoes, jeans, coat, gloves and scarf. Even a month later I still find bits of it when I reach into my coat pockets.
We had originally planned to spend the night in San Pedro but the dust and still biting cold combined with a wind chill put us off. So we ate lunch then waited for a bus to get us out of there on a 20 hour bus ride to Santiago. This was day five of not showering. We were smelling lovely.
For a 20 hour bus ride, the Tur Bus was comfortable and easy. We slept well in our semi-cama seats and the drive was spent reading, sleeping, staring out the window, and eating the occasional snack provided by the friendly conductor. The peaceful day was only troubled by one thing... we were having trouble getting money out of the ATMs. The bank had locked Danny's card and luckily we had just enough money on us to make it to Santiago where I could at least change some US Dollars.
We arrived in Santiago rested and happy but still smelly. We were met by Couch Surfer Gonzalo - an engineer who proved the great Chilean hospitality we'd heard about. He really didn't seem bothered that we both stank and gladly offered us his bathroom. An hour later we were clean and Gonzalo, Chile's friendliest guy, made us his speciality - spagetti, cut up frankfurters and tomato paste. We were thrilled just to be clean and eat something in a normal house with great company. His friend came over and the two of them showed us their travel photos - mostly of Patagonia, a place that I am definitely going to on one of my next trips.
On Wednesday 23 July, we woke up to a stunning view of Santiago (quite rare due to the intense smog that usually envelopes the city). We could see mountains in all directions and after breakfast with Gonzalo we went to check them out from a higher viewpoint.
We made our way to a hill near downtown via a really cool part of the city with funky houses and lots of art shops. At the hill we jumped in a cable car to the summit which had a massive Virgin Mary and outstanding views of the Andes in all directions. Oh how I craved to go skiing~
After three house of looking at mountains we took the cable car back down and set off to the Central Market for lunch. On the way two of the most sophisticated looking beggars I've ever seen asked us for money by claiming that they were students and that Pinochet makes them pay too much for university... they should have tried that trick on us 20 years ago. They looked way too old to be students anyway.
The market was madness. People yelling at the top of their lungs to get people into their food stands to eat local specialties that included fish, fish and a bit more fish. We selected a rather spartan place run by old ladies who dished out an incredible paila marina - a seafood soup made up of mussels and chunks of fish with a lot of lemon and a massive pepper thrown in for good luck. It was delicious and we left there very satisfied.
After lunch we walked around town to burn off the days gastronomic delights somewhat in vain, checked out downtown Santiago and walked back to Gonzalos apartment. We were greeted by his girlfriend Carolina who is one of those people you can only describe as lovely. We chatted for hours over one of my stir-fries and their homemade Pisco Sours (YUM).
We woke up on Thursday and mostly did a lot of site seeing on one of Danny's walking tours. One of our photos was interrupted by a horrible French woman who just barged in front of Danny and demanded her friend take a photo. This same thing would happen to us twice more and both times by older French tourists...
Lunch was at a really posh restaurant and we were served OK food by men in bow ties who seemed to dance around the crowded place like some West End production. Not far from the posh restaurant was the Museum of American Civilizations (I don't remember the actual name) which had a fantastic collection of relics from all the major empires - including a very creepy section about mummies and the American way (quite gross).
In the evening Gonzalo and Carolina took us out for a stunning meal with cocktails. I sat there somewhat fueled by more pisco sours feeling great about having made two new wonderful friends. We continued the evening at their place with a bottle of wine and Carolina's outstanding lemon pie. We were feeling quite at home and really didn't want to leave the next morning!!
But we did, left our bags at Gonzalo's place and set off for Vina del Mar on the Friday while G&C went home to spend the weekend with their families in the countryside.
We spent three days at Vina del Mar, staying with Couch Surfer Hilary and her boyfriend Gabo. Both were from Panama and very fun. The weekend was spent checking out nearby Valparaiso (a very funky place filled with artists who display their talents through graffiti everywhere), eating a lot, going to a barbeque with their Chilean friends and eating a "chorrelana" - an incredibly heart attack inducing meal of french fries, fried onions, fried eggs, chopped up steak, and cheese all thrown in together - the local speciality. I knew that at this rate I would definitely be on a diet come our arrival in England.
After three relatively quiet days in Vina del Mar by the seaside we said our goodbyes to Hilary and Gabo and returned to Santiago for the afternoon. We had already done the sites of the city so we actually went to see Batman to kill a few hours. What a brilliant movie! We had another great night with Gonzalo and Carolina and the next morning packed up and caught the bus to Mendoza, just over the Andes in Argentina.
ARGENTINA
Mendoza, Cordoba and Iguazu
The trip from Chile into Argentina is one of those bus rides that you don't wish to forget in a hurry. It literally goes right through (and over) the Andes. It was gorgeous even though the hours spent at the border crossing meant that it took forever... There were snow covered mountains in all directions and much of the road cut through powder covered ski slopes.
When we arrived in Mendoza we got stuck looking for a place to spend the night due to being cancelled on by a couch surfer at last minute... after two hours of walking around only to find that most of the places were either full or too expensive, we found the hostel which Gonzalo had recommended - it was cheap and also very nice. Finally at around 10:30pm we set off for dinner and were rewarded for our patience with a fine bottle of red, steak, a good starter and dessert all for less than $20 for the two of us. It was delightful and we quickly forgot the stresses of earlier. We left full and content if not quite drunk...
We slept very well and woke up to a hotel breakfast of slightly stale croissants and strong oversugared Argentine coffee as well as apples, the first on this trip. Mine had a worm in it.
Wednesday was spent with a massive lunch of steak sandwiches overloaded with coronary inducing ingredients, then a tour of Mendoza's famous vineyards. The tour was kind of boring but we did leave with 3 bottles of red and randomly a jar of sundried tomatoes. Dinner was another massive meal and we knew that we'd have to start cutting down or risk turning up in England both the size of London buses. That night we caught a bus to Cordoba, got there around 8am and headed to the town where Che Guevara spent his early childhood, Alta Gracia.
There wasn't a huge amount to do in AG but it was pretty and contained an OK museum about the famous revolutionary. We spent a couple of hours in it then headed to an extremely boring museum about the Jesuit settlement which once existed in its place. After a few hours in the town we headed back to Cordoba where we had one of the nastiest meals I've ever had in my life - basically offcuts of meat - not nice. I was desperate for a salad.
The next day was incredibly boring as we walked around Cordoba, saw the Mummy 3 to kill time (don't ever see that movie, it's so bad it's comical) and looked forward to our overnight bus to Iguazu to check out the famous falls.
Nothing can explain how majestical the Iguazu Falls are. They're absolutely mind blowing - 3kms of waterfalls connecting Argentina, Brazil and a tiny bit of Paraguay. They're frightening and stunning and so much more impressive than Niagara which once blew me away. We spent our days there absolutely drenched from standing under cascades and doing a jet boat ride right up into the falls and trying to get the perfect shot of them. Our second day, after checking out the Brazilian side was spent at a bird park where Danny got attacked by a territorial toucan and I got the fright of my life by some kids wooden snake that he dropped on the ground in front of me...
After two outstanding days at the falls we jumped on our last overnight bus which took us to Buenos Aires where we were to spend our last five days.
Buenos Aires
I don't have a huge amount to say about BA except that it was expensive, kind of like a lot of European cities and filled with men with impressive heads of hair. One day was spent out in the countryside at a Gaucho Ranch which was fantastic (Hi to American family Gene, Paula and Jacob!). Another was spent checking out the Recoleta Cemetery where the Argentine rich pay a fortune to be buried in its ornate tombs as long as they have families rich enough and willing enough to continue paying the rent for generations (if they fail to make a payment they get put into a local cemetery a long way from the lavish apartments they occupy in the Recoleta). Our last weekend was spent hanging out in San Telmo where our hotel was, doing a bit of shopping and going to see Bocas Juniors Football play in BA's most colourful neighbourhood. The football game was probably the highlight. Just like in Turkey the crowd was completely wild and very nuts about their home team.
While in Argentina we definitely ate much more than the entire trip. I got addicted to Dulche de Leche - that divine spread of sweet creamy caramel which the Argentines put on almost everything... Our final meal in South America was one of the most fantastic steaks I've ever eaten in my life, served by an arrogant waiter with a pitcher of the cheap but wonderful red wine which was starting to characterise everything we did in that country.
Final day...
On Monday 11 August our final day in South America finally arrived. We were quietly relieved to leave Argentina - it turned out to be unbearably expensive - inflation had made prices go through the roof. We didn't find the people as hospitable as in other countries, and our arteries were desperate for some vegetables and something other than red wine...
Danny left six hours before me so I decided to finish my trip in style - by finding a beautician and someone to sort out my mess of hair. Do you think I could find one anywhere? Being that Argentina has the highest rate of botox injections per-capita in the world I thought it would be easy at least to find someone to do my eyebrows~
I actually ended up abandoning my search after several hours and one last session of Dulche de Leche filled biscuits and coffee (which I only ate half of as I had at last overdosed) and headed to the airport where I actually managed to find a beautician and a hair salon right next to duty free. It was perfect. For US$30 I got my hair attended to by the world's most masculine hairdresser Raphael, eyebrows shaped and my hands manicured into something decent and not to hide. I was happy, vain again, and jumped onto my Lufthansa flight content in the knowledge that I wouldn't have to fork out a fortune upon my arrival in the UK just to look half presentable for job interviews.
It's hard to look back on this trip and remember everything we've done. We covered an awful lot in 10 weeks and every time someone asks us what the highlights were we come up with something different as new things appear in our memories. Towards the end I was looking forward to putting my pack down and wearing some different clothes, being clean all the time, eating some healthy food and having a decent eight hours sleep per night. It was an unforgettable trip that's for sure. We're now in London - have been here for a week. I'm in the process of job hunting again but we've found a lovely place to live in East London which takes a lot of pressure off. It's nice to see all my friends again and life is feeling good.
The next adventure will most likely be a two week suitcase holiday in March. I'm off to visit my sister who now lives in Japan. If you want to check out what someone else is doing on the adventure of their life then check out her blog http://raeoftheantartic.blogspot.com.
Hope you're all enjoying life wherever you are. Thanks for reading right to the end - well done!
Kat.
