San P. de Atacama

Thursday, October 30th, 2008

Day 123 on The Big Trip. “Desert Mountain Biking Dessert”


SAN PEDRO DE ATACAMA, the Region II desert town with hostels and tour agencies has become our do-it-yourself stomping ground due to high prices. As such, we wake up from our sun-burned slumbers and stagger on over to the bike-rental spot a handy-10-feet from our hostel. We rent bikes for 3,000 pesos a piece. That’s for “5-6” hours of usage. It’s 10:30 in the morning when we take off for Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), which is 15km from town. At first I’m skeptical. That is, of the origin of the valley’s name. But then we round a corner and the scenery reflects some imaginary perspective I have of the moon: bumps, contours, sharp edges, rising mounds, all glistening brown and white. We inhale dry air while making our way up and down large, small, expansive hills and the bumpy road. We detour for more of a mountain-biking experience while checking out a mirador (viewpoint).

WE PARK our bikes and hike up to another mirador on the way back for our next desert mountain biking dessert: the piscinas (swimming pools). They are supposed to be 3km out of town in the opposite direction and lo and behold – they are! At this point we have sucked down enough water to put the Panama Canal to shame.

THE POOLS are cold and that’s just what we want. Alisa tells me she does not want to seek out any more biking desserts such as the Valle del Muerte (Valley of Death), which I admit doesn’t sound that appealing right now. But what about the single-track mountain biking that’s supposed to be “to die for” and “not to be missed” within 5k of town? I can’t allow myself to pass this up so we agree that I will drop Alisa off at the hostel before furthering my desert mountain biking dessert platter!

SEARCHING the map for an obvious route to this uncharted location where one of the world’s greatest single-tracks is supposed to be is, well, not easy. By not easy, I mean impossible. I stop and ask a tour guide who likes speaking English and whose tour van is loaded with English-speaking tourists where the best mountain biking is near here. Reluctantly, he switches gears from English to Spanish. Only to tell me it’s all around me. So after going the wrong way and exploring parts of the Valle del Muerte, which is cool but not what I’m looking for, I find a path upwards to a mirador-ish site, in hopes of finding some single-track path leading downwards, which I spotted from afar.

SINGLE-TRACK here scares the life out of me. Don’t worry – I was safe. On the other hand, it was like the very narrow paths we walked up much of Chachani, except it’s all sand or it’s all sand with huge rocks at a very steep downward incline. What this means for mountain biking is that I was hauling on the failing rear breaks and reasonably not-over-squeezing the front breaks putting myself in a near-perpetual skid as I rounded corners and bumped and slid my way through this wild single-track with a rocky and steep slope below and above me! What a ride! Well worth the drought my mouth had and the pumped-tired legs all the way back – passing cars, even! – to town!

WHEW! Time to grab a salmon and potato bite to eat at Inta Sol and try out some internet at Adobe, both in town. This is a great way to get me tired before a 12-hour day-busride to Argentina crossing the Andes that leaves at 10:30am tomorrow! Talk to you next from Argentina!

To Chile

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008

Day 122 on The Big Trip. “Chilean Desert”

We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama, the northern Chilean desert town that basks in the sun a good 12-hour busride away from the Chile-Peru border town of Arica. We found Hostel Florida, a cheap and descent alternative to more upscale and pricey options like La Aruca. This town has a lot of hostels, restaurants, and expedition shops. The bus from here to Argentina next leaves at 11:30am on Friday, else Sunday or Tuesday. So we’ll probably jam-pack Thursday with adventures like sandboarding, biking, laguna-seeing, star-seeing (which is impeccable in the Atacama Desert, we hear). Then again, it’s hot enough to fry a chicken out here so maybe we’ll limit our excursions! Plus Chile’s more expensive than Argentina and the bus tickets we bought today were 27,000 pesos p/p, which is something like $40.50 p/p. Not cheap! But hey, what do you expect a bus to cost that’s 12-hours long and crosses the Andes and a border?


Yesterday was a 121 Tuesday that we spent enjoying the familiarity of a shopping boardwalk in Arica, Chile that I could actually see thanks to a haircut that removed hairs covering my eyes. We also spent time swimming, sunbathing/burning, ice-cream licking, playground playing, and running across the beach in Arica. The day was shared with the friendly Irish couple of Padraig and Caroline.

Yesterday’s yesterday was a 120 travel Monday from Arequipa to Tacna, Peru by bus, and from Tacna to Arica, Chile by train. My passport has more stamps. We had to run in order to catch the bus from Arequipa to Tacna because our taxi driver dropped us off at the wrong bus terminal! Yikes!

The day before that was a much-deserved rest/errand 119 Sunday in Arequipa after our Chachani ascent. Errands included eating a lot, resting some, updating the good ole blogaroni, fixing and improving Sean’s gift, and buying a gift for Nicky and Jon. At night, we record a vlog entry since Arequipa’s been rewarding and we’re leaving tomorrow for Chile!

Chachani 2

Saturday, October 25th, 2008

Day 118 on The Big Trip. “Climb The Mountain”

FORENOTE: I know it’s not my mom’s birthday quite yet, but I have a personal tradition of racing everyone else to wishing anyone in my family a happy birthday. As such, I am declaring a happy birthday for my mom right now (or rather, on the 25th from the summit of Nevado Chachani, 6075+m) in typical mom fashion: with a Halloween mask purchased the day before near the mercado in Arequipa. Watch the vlog below for the video log (vlog) that includes a brief Happy Birthday to Terri Ann Bourke, my mom and my provider. Mom: I hope teaching and studying and living it up in CA are all going as well as I expect they are for you! Come visit me in Chile! Also: for birthday presents for you, I hope to get 1) a good laugh for you with the Vlog and the picture up top that you inspired, and 2) a better president.


IT IS DARK out. I hear good morning in Spanish. It’s 2am and it’s time to get the day started. We have a lot of ground to cover to wind our way upwards and aroundwards from 5400 meters to over 6075m. Breakfast is bread and marmelada of the strawberry ilk, no milk. We chug water. I look for more layers of clothes to put on but remember that I wore all of my layers to bed. My hair could house a flock of flamingos and maybe even a lake if I took off this hat. For the warmth it provides I won’t lose this hat, though. Headlamps wrap around our hats and hefty shoes and boots are strapped up as we finish the meager breakfast and know that what awaits us is no joke. It’s a dream!

THANK YOU to the mice, and thank you to the air that turns your hot chocolate into a chilly cylinder of sweetness. For without the pair of you, I would have slept last night before the push for the summit! But you were there when I was tempted to close my eyes, relax and sleep! You were there making sure I didn’t overdo my 2 hour quota of dreaming!

VISIBILITY is low but we can tell that the slippery one-foot-wide path that we make as we go has consequences if it isn’t followed. Namely, a rumble-tumble down Ouch Lane. So our headlamps focus on the cool and unusual mode of stepping that we soon get used to: cautious steps made that are soon in another location than they where originally placed. As we come over the cross or dip in between peaks we can see the glimmering, seemingly flickering fingerprint of Arequipa’s streets formed by the street lights and fanned by the houses with people awake at 4:30 in the morning. Is it already that late? A cool picture shows Arequipa’s electricity hotspots in the distance, and a batter-powered headlamp close-up. It’s nice to be awake and high up when few people are awake and few people are high up. To contemplate this nicety, we stop to hydrate and snack as our lungs contemplate confusion. Where’s all the oxygen?

OXYGEN, on again, off again. Breathing comes in waves. The 5am sun is lurching through the oxygen-less air, but can’t quite strike us thanks to the many peaks around us that are now seen hanging out with pink and color-waving halos.

SNOW, ice, and sand seem to be the obstacles on this climb! We navigate these immediate traffic challenges with the likes of headaches and respiration road blocks and detours. Meanwhile, nearby El Misti (5700+m) seems to be bowing down to us as we approach 5800, now 5900. I go to the bathroom at 5900m. That makes me laugh. The guide and I chug through a patch of snow as Alisa snaps a picture with Mark.

CROSSING El Angel (not Angel Hair like the pasta we had for dinner) and Fatima offers ups and downs in breathing and in temperatures. It’s nice having a winding, changing view and a new set of physical points as goals during the trek eventually leading to Chachani’s summit, teasing us from criss-crossy, disappearing footpaths.

CHUTES and no ladders seems to be the name of the game with this climb. We slip our way up slopes of sand, some winding to make the path easier but longer, and others just straight up. I find myself leaning on trekking poles more than I expected! I used to scoff at the use of these sticks.

CHACHANI comes into view. Also in the distant periphery looms Ampato, a snow-capped mountain and the closer pair, Picchu Picchu. The views are just stunning. But we must keep moving. The sun is about to pin us down for the count! We must reach the summit! I can almost taste it!

THE GUIDE that I’ve been following as closely as possible this entire hike stops a few yards ahead of me. As I almost catch up to him, he tells me in Spanish that there are only 10 more minutes to the real summit. Looking back, I realize that he was taking a rest for everyone to join him for the final push. That rest was not for me. My heart was playing a beat in my head from my favorite Michael Jackson song. I think my heart was waiting for this very altitude to have the right timing to test out the bass for the song. Anyhow, if I’m going to pass out I’d like to do so at the summit after seeing the view and feeling the sense of accomplishment that accompanies sending a climb. I would not prefer to pass out 10 minutes from the top. Why would I?

I KEEP GOING, busting out a move to the top. I feel like I’m on an escalator. I’m not skiing, that’s for sure. I’m going up. Or am I? My feet are being placed one in front of the other. They’re definitely being patient and taking turns. No, I guess I’m walking. Breathing is full of noise and empty of reward. But I keep doing it anyway. 6075+m, here I come!

I CRACK OPEN a few pictures at the top. I’m not sure champagne would be a good idea. Claro (Of course)! Then I remember who has carried the daypack with all of the water and electrolytes and snacks all the way up to the top. I remember that it’s the same person who left Alisa behind a good 10 minutes: ME!

SO I SPRINT back down the mountain into the ocean and sip a gin and tonic on a hammock near my surfboard while listening to monkeys playing bongo drums. Or, I walk slowly but surely and dutifully back down to Alisa to offer her a drink. She’s nearing the top. She says she’ll drink when she gets to the top. I walk a little faster up beside her to take a cool, hip, family holiday postcard picture. Then I join her at the top, only to find that she’s lying down by the daypack. I coax her into sitting up and hydrating since I’m positively positive that we’re negatively influenced by dehydration. I don’t have my World Book Enclyclopedia set with me, so I just assume I’m that smart. Drink up, Alisa! After we relax and gaulk at the wonderful vistas, I have Mark film our Vlog entry slash birthday message to mom that I pasted at the top of this post. Then I have Alisa snap continuous photos of me with the mask on as I go through the motions of a heel-click on top of Chachani with El Misti in the background. I still laugh every time I look at it since it’s now my computer desktop/background image. What will it be next? We’ll have to wait to be in Chile to see!

TIMESTAMPS on digital photographs are awesome. You can plot when you did what and how long it took you to do certain things. For instance, thanks to timestamps I know that we left base camp at approximately 2:50am. I know that I arrived at the top just before 7:20am, meaning that it took me about 4 ½ hours. The guide tells us that 40% of the people who try this climb don’t even summit! One website says the average time for summiting is 6-8 hours; the brochure said 5-6. In other words, I’m happy with 4 ½. Alisa and Mark and the guide showed up 10 minutes later, giving them practically the same ascent time and still under 5 hours! Wow! We were cruising!

DESCENDING is great. You can breathe again. You can rest and rehydrate. You can run and jog-slide down the sandy hills that you so painfully winded your way up. The only con about going down them is that you get a mouthful of sandcloud if you run down too closely behind someone else! Oops!

THE VIEWS once masked by midnight’s leftovers are fully visible and clouds are playing hide’n’go’seek with us, leaving us be with the views! We leave the summit at 8:00am. After saying goodbye to Chachani’s summit views, we watch El Misti stand up and we curve around Fatima and Angel. The snowy, icy rows and columns we trekked through on the way up are softer now and warrant more caution since they are less attached to the ground and could give way easier. I’m just soaking in the experience at this point. I’m loving it. I’m exhausted. I’m paparazzi. I must have taken 100 pictures of Alisa or the three others from behind them. I stop, take pictures, then catch up! I feel strong except for my nagging headache that I can’t wait to literally drown out with liquids.

MERELY 10:30am and we are entering base camp. It feels like it’s been more than just a morning on this mountain. We are basically live-dreaming about showers, full meals, beds, lower elevations, and returning to comforts. The guide tries to phone the 4wd vehicle driver that got us here. Apparently he won’t be able to pick us up until 1pm. Oh my word. Can’t we just get back to Arequipa? Oh well. Our solution – our way of dealing with this – is to wait by resting in our tents. We shake out the rocks in our shoes and boots; sock-footed we lay down in our tents. Then I hear the tiny mice again and pop my head out of our tent to find a mouse running around the backpacks and boots.

POST-REST we pack up and hike down in the same jog and slide fashion 300m or so to the entrance sign for the reserve that Chachani resides in. There we sit and wait for our driver who is prompt. What a nice bumpy 2-hour ride back to the hostel. We eat mass quantities of delivered Chinese food, shower, and rest. What a full day! I’m glad we did Chachani.

Arequipa 1 Chachani 1

Friday, October 24th, 2008

Day 117 on The Big Trip. “Base Camp?”
TWO NIGHTS AGO we arrived in Arequipa from Puno. We should have ridden a bat instead of a bus. Anyways, we made our reservation at The Point Hostel, even though it was post-midnight. We found a place to eat in town. The next morning we got down to business. The business of conquering peaks over 6000 meters above sea level. You don’t need to get a new prescription for your glasses; you read it right: over 6000 meters above sea level.

OUR REASON for registering so quickly upon arriving goes by the name of desire. Nevada Chachani, standing at a solid 6075m is tantalizing. And 6075 is the conservative measurement. Watches and other personal equipment have measured upwards of 6130m at the summit. Regardless, it seems to sport better views than El Misti, the 5700+m dusty volcano that hovers slightly closer to the city than Chachani. El Misti costs $60/p, while Chachani costs $70/p. Our minds are made up. We register for Chachani through Point Hostel our first morning in Arequipa. As a result, our first morning in this city mostly involves tasks related to preparing for the climb. Also, we bought a massive amount of groceries so that we can cook every meal for the day before the climb and the morning thereof. We do this to save money.

THURSDAY MORNING means we’re up early and getting ready for battle. The guide picks us up in a 4x4 at 8:30 from our hostel. All three of us. Alisa, myself, and Mark Cosgrove, an Irish guy we luckily met as we were trying to register and just then finding out that this climb requires a minimum registration of three people. Before we can get on the road to get to base camp, we have to deal with the

MISSING EQUIPMENT such as boots, gloves, a second pair of pants, and for me, sunglasses. After a few stops we find boots - or heavy duty shoes – for all of us. I am lent sunglasses; we stop for extra water as the guide just now tells us what wasn’t in the information binder at the hostel: boots are US$6 (not S/.6, which would be three times less); trekking poles are necessary and will add another US$1 or 2; and each person needs 5L of water: 4L for them and 1L for the guide in order to make dinner for them. This isn’t breaking the bank, but for the sake of efficiency I’d much rather know far in advance pieces of information such as these. So we pay, grab some extra water and a snack called “Sin Parar”, meaning “Without limits”, that is like but better than Crunch bars, and we are on our way!

HIDDEN INFORMATION surfaces by empiricism, not communication. Namely, that the drive up to 5200m from Arequipa takes not 2 ½ hours like the info. binder at the hostel said, but more like 3 ½ or 4 hours. It’s a really memorable ride (not drive). Just like any climber in the Seattle area remembers the ride to Gold Bar! [Gabe C., have you fixed the road yet?! Sent RB?!]

DROPPED like a triple-decker ice cream cone when the soccer ball is run over by an 18-wheeler carrying gasoline, the three of us are left with our bags at 5200m. We portion between us the tents and sleeping bags that are provided and start hiking slowly up winding foot paths made of dirt to base camp at 5400m.



SETTING UP tents is fine. We have a camping area for the three-person tent that Mark and the guide, Roy, share and a two-person tent for Alisa and me. At 3:00pm we have dinner of pasta and sauce. Our next meal is soup at 6:30pm. Mark and Roy zip up tent to search for the tail of the alphabet. Alisa also caught a few Z’s but I wasn’t yet tired and was more curious about all of the rocks around our camp and why my legs wanted to bounce around. So I went for a walk with a few easy bouldering sessions, climbing the larger boulders in the area.


AS THE SUN sets, and I return to rest a little before the temps get really cold and our food gets warmed, Alisa decides she’s like to join me for a walk. So out we go again for a brisk walk at 5400+m with some pretty nice base-camp views.

MEALS are complemented by our snacking of the chocolates and peanuts and chocolate peanuts that we purchased for energy and calories for the climb!

NOW it’s time to try to sleep, even though it’s something like 8pm because we’re waking up at 2am for a small breakfast and pushing out at 2:30am for the

SUMMIT! I put on all of my layers, we get out our headlamps from our pack, and we pack the daypack with 2.5L water, 2.5L Electrolyte, lots of snacks, sunscreen, scarf, and some miscellaneous items.

STAY TUNED FOR THE WILD AND WILDER SUMMIT NEWS!!! – Your landscaper, n8!

Lake Titicaca 2

Wednesday, October 22nd, 2008

Day 115 on The Big Trip. “What Else’s in a Lake?”

We say goodbye to the captain, his family, and Isle Amantani. It was a fun visit. Of course, as visits often do, this visit ends. I wonder if Amelie will ever get beyond the Islas Flotantes and Puno to Arequipa.


I do a lot of thinking on the boat ride to Isle Taquile, another touristy island of Lake Titicaca. Of course, I shade myself from the sun in order to think more clearly.


We are stuck with a group of tourists on the island of Taquile, which we don’t like because we like going our own pace, we don’t like listening to someone repeat themselves in two languages if we understand them both, and like my dad, we like to walk unencumbered. Oh well. Soon we break away from the group on the path from the boat dock to the plaza. So we are free from them at least until lunch when we have to rejoin them. We take a few pictures of the gorgeous, blue Lake Titicaca that seems to be an ocean. In some of the pictures, Isle Amantani can be seen in the blue.

After lunch we walk to the dock to board. Again, we walk quicker than many of the other tourists so we end up waiting at the dock. I see a metal ex-quadripod, now rusted tripod on the beach. I’m not sure what it was once intended for, but I know that while I wait I will be most happy if I climb it and hang on it for awhile. So I do! (SEE: Top of page for photo.) I think everyone’s watching me – locals and tourists alike – and wondering, “What does he think he’s doing?” It doesn’t matter. I’m playing! That’s what I’m doing! I’m climbing something! And climbing things is fun! And a great way to end a visit – that ends – on an island in – not on, like the Isles Flotantes - Lake Titicaca.

As we leave Isle Taquile, we realize that we’re also leaving Lake Titicaca. And sections of reeds on Lake Titicac are being burned. Look! So, our plan after Lake TC is this: 1) get to Puno from Isle Taquile, 2) taxi to the plaza and pick up our laundry nearby, 3) walk to the hostel to pick up our luggage that we left there because we didn’t need it for two days and one night on Lake Titicaca, and 4) taxi to the Terminal Terrestre where we will take the earliest bus to Arequipa because really, once you’ve seen Lake Titicaca, you’ve seen all you need to of Puno!

We take the bus and get the front seats on the 2nd floor that overlook the large windshield-wiperless windshield. Great seats! Unfortunatley, even though this bus leaves the station on time at 4:45, the 5 hour busride that should arrive in Arequipa by 10pm arrives past midnight. Here are two reasons why: 1) the bus hadn’t filled it seats at the station so it took 1 ½ hours cruising around town looking for passengers 2) someone on board was caught at a Control station for embezzling illegal goods from Bolivia to Peru. Or so we gathered.

AREQUIPA, FINALLY! Escaping more lands, your landescaper, n8

Lake Titicaca 1

Tuesday, October 21st, 2008
Day 114 on The Big Trip. “What’s in a Lake?”
[More pictures pending Chachani climb]

LAKE TITICACA has lots going on. It has Isles Flotantes; it has altitude; it has reeds; it has Isle Amantani; it has Isle Taquile; it has Puno as a base. After arriving in Puno the day prior with a flat tire escape approach to fleeing the city of Cusco, it’s nice to be on the way to islands finally.

FRESH FRUITS are what we purchased at the market yesterday. One pineapple and four bananas are the gifts we have chosen to get for the family that we don’t yet know but whose house we plan to sleep at on one of the islands on Lake Titicaca.

SNACKS are good for the boat ride to the Isles Flotantes (the floating islands) on Lake Titicaca: our first stop! Uros is the name given these islands made out of reeds. It feels like you are walking on the moon or walking on pick-up-trampoline-sticks when you are walking on these floating islands devised by a meter-deep root and dirt layer covered by one to two meters of reeds. Pretty cool! The houses are made out of reeds. The boats they use are made out of reeds. The people are made out of reeds. One of the last three sentences has not been verified. The

DOWNSIDE of these floating islands is immediately obvious: the communities are hardly able to live their lives!
PAPARAZZI are everywhere and it’s the off-season! Tourists are in the reed boats, the double-decker reed boats, and the “mirador” reed platforms with ladder-entry that are on every single one of the 50 communities that comprise these floating islands. It’s way too touristy; we’re damaging their communities.

PART out of desire, part out of sense of guilt and compassion for the people whose time we’re taking to just witness them, Alisa and I each purchase a little something from each of the women on the communities we visit in Uros, the floating islands! Then, because we’re the only two tourists on the boat that took us to Uros and is going to take us to Amantani for the night, we decide to leave for the 2 ½ hour trip that the rest of the people (all locals of Amantani) have been patiently waiting for! Quick! Time for a vlog entry from the roof of our boat while the Isles Flotantes are still in sight!


JOURNALS pop out of our backpack, the daypack that we brought for this overnight islands trip. Luckily we trust the hostel Los Pinos to keep the rest of our belongings. On the front of the boat I write, think, and relax in the now-blue waters and faraway mainland around Lake Titicaca.

ADVICE for travelers. Always pee before getting on a boat or a bus or anything that is going to be at least 30 minutes in duration. Maybe even twice! I only did once before the first boat. Oops! Come on, bladder! Chugalug!

DOCKS are something I like and I’m not sure why. I like plateaus, gigantic masses of contiguous rocks, volcanoes, clear waters, and docks. Anyway, this dock was circular with a gap just large enough for a boat with a motor in the OFF setting to be pushed and navigated by two men – one fore, one aft – with large sticks. It was impressive and relaxing to see how calmly they could do this. Meanwhile, one “misstep” would easily change the 1 ½ cm gap between boat and rock-dock to 0 cm!

OUR FAMILY that we’re staying with turns out to be: Surprise! The captain’s family! We settle in, greet the li’le ones, have an interesting lunch, and go out for a walk - or a hike. Up, up, up, winding on meter-wide smooth-rock path to Pacha Tata and Pacha Mama, which are the two sacrificial grounds on the two highest points of the island, which are at high altitudes to begin with. We end up taking a lot of pictures because it’s just so gorgeous everywhere. There are agricultural terraces in one area, communities in another, rocks over there, and shining afternoon lake all around!

I CLIMB a little on dirty and unsturdy rocks. Then we head back down to the beach, racing the sunset. On our way down we pass lots of gringos. We see that there are lots of indigenous people setting up tiny personal markets where they unfold their large cloths that usually are seen wrapping up their goodies on their bent backs while walking. The locals with sales to make line the path up to Pacha Tata. Luckily, we left early enough that we missed the forced encumbered walk and headlamp return to town!

POST-SUNSET on the Amantani beach we get back to the house to find kids just outside of our second-story, low-roofed, small-bed-filled apartment with a view, playing “Yack-ayes”. JACKS, that is. Alisa grabs her journal (she didn’t journal on the boat like I did) and props up beside them. We soon decide to introduce a headlamp to these shy rascals!

SHY for about 2 minutes! Soon these buggers were singing (first upon our request, then upon sheer energy that seemed to beam from every cell in their bodies) and dancing! They danced until our bellies hunger-ached too much to be happy about it anymore! Then came dinner: small but good portions, easily complemented by our snacks.


BEDTIME at Isle Amantani meant put the headlamps away and time to enjoy sleeping in this place without electricity, fully clothed with two jackets and a warm hat on! Oh yeah. The bed I slept in was meant for a Lollipop Kid.

STAY TUNED to find out if this landescaper shrunk in the night or fell off the bed…!

REALLY, what I love about the Lake Titicaca portion of our trip thus far are the following: bouncing on the floating islands, connecting with the native children and hearing their secret language of Quechua in songs, being able to let down my guard and just relax near nice waters while getting used to the altitude.

THIS EXPERIENCE is one that others might enjoy as well; I just wish tourism didn’t have such a negative affect as is very tangible in many of the communities on the islands and in many touristy towns. For example, having the creativity of a community zapped such that there are 500 vendors for taffy and 200 for adventure tours, but rarely something out-of-the-ordinary, different, or new and useful (SEE Baños, Ecuador). For another example, seeing certain people dedicated to tourism is OK by me since there is a profit to be had and meanwhile their culture can remain intact. However, when an entire population and culture is vacuum-dedicated to tourism it appears to me that they lose a drive more central to their culture’s desires and aims (SEE Uros, Peru). There are other ways in which communities and individuals are negatively affected by tourism as can be evidenced by negatively accented gringo remarks, looks, interactions, et cetera. There are reasons for these things and I wish they could be curbed. Please comment with insights hereto! Gracias! – Tus Escapador de la Tierra, N8

Puno

Sunday, October 19th, 2008

Day 112 on The Big Trip, “Out of Cusco”



THE GIST of today is that we leave Cusco. Check out the video for the excitement of the trip. Later we arrive late at night to Puno. We make it to the hostel called Los Pinos on Tarapaca Ave. It’s weird arriving to Puno. I forgot that Puno is actually ON Lake Titicaca. We can see the city lights reflecting on it; in it. For now we are very tired and hungry so we ask the helpful hostel employee where we can go to get food “at this hour” near here. Well, it’s not safe to walk far so don’t bring much, but head down the corner to the walkway leading to the plaza-strip. There you’ll find lots of restaurants like

COLORS, a black-and-white restaurant that gives fancy small portions that taste like they tried hard to make it elegant but made it unique and slightly interesting! We wanted large portions of normal. Oh well! To bed! Tomorrow we’ll wake up at 6am to catch the 7am departure of the boats at the docks to go to the islands on Lake Titicaca, the world’s highest natural, navigate-able lake!

OR NOT!

Monday, October 20th, 2008

Day 113 on The Big Trip, “Hold on, Lake TC; we're coming!”

THE GIST of today is that I put the PU in Puno. We spend the day resting and not adventuring more than necessary. We eat at a vegetarian restaurant and I didn't like the food but ordered like I did. Outside it sounds like Chinese New Year's: firecrackers going off around town. There are purple and white strung around. We step out to find a religious procession in progress. We find a laundry place to clean our laundry that we plan to retrieve after our night on a high-altitude island.

RICOS PAN is a pastry cafe that disappointed us in Puno. We'd heard great things, but the service was ignore-ant. Too bad.

I guess tomorrow’ll be the big day!

Puerto Maldonado 2

Friday, October 17th , 2008

Day 110 on The Big Trip. “How did we outdo the Jungle?”

MACHETES are for jungles and scary dogs with bad intentions. On our travels we encounter jungles and we encounter scary dogs with bad intentions. Thus, we want a machete. So we set out to find one. Every shop sells a machete “sin funda”. We can’t just carry around a bare machete while we travel, so we have to find a machete “con funda”. We can’t because there simply aren’t any. However, we devise a plan to get a machete and find someone likely to have the know-how and wherewithal to make one for us; how about a shoe repairman? He says yes, just bring him the machete and he’ll make it for us within an hour.

SCOOTERS are awesome for running errands. And cost-wise, too! Consider S/5 ($1.33) per hour for fun on a scooter versus 2-3 Soles every time you need to get a mototaxi elsewhere. It’s a no-brainer! Let’s run some jungle errands on a scooter! I test it out first, and once Alisa approves of my scooter-skills, she hops on for the day!


JUNGLE JUICES are some of the things we have to get done today. There are certain drinks only found in and around the jungle that we fully plan to get our hands on before our 2:30pm bus departure back – 18 hours – to Cusco. Number one: aguajina. Aguajina is a juice made from the fruit called the aguaje, which we observed in trees and at the base of trees the day prior in the Tambopata National Reserve! Number two: cocona. We’re not sure what cocona is besides a beverage that we intend on trying. Luckily after lunching we find a juice stand that has both of these commodities!

SINCE we’d both already just tried aguajina before lunch at a smaller stand, we order one cocona and one jugo de maracuya (passionfruit juice). In the U.S., I very much dislike passionfruit juice. In S.A., I very much prefer jugo de maracuya to other jugos, even, surprisingly enough, to pineapple juice. It’s interesting to compare jugo de maracuya and cocona side-by-side because they’re actually quite similar! Cocona seems to be the nearly the same except less sweet and slightly altered flavor and as for here, it’s served cooler!

SURPRISED we were when offered aguajes to try. Keep in mind aguajes are used to make aguajina. We have tried the drink, which itself was orangelike in color, but quite tart even with sweetener. It goes without saying that we were wary of the fruit that bore the now familiar drink! We observed a girl working there add sugar – or salt – to her aguaje after removing its small and barely adhesive diamond-shaped shell pieces, before taking a few chomps. So, slowly we peeled our shells and realized that there is a bijunction between the way in which one eats their corn (on the cob) and their aguaje. That is to say, Alisa goes in (messy) rows and I eat round and round, one end to the other, occasionally making a crown design if it’s taking me awhile to eat (rarer with corn). Go figure, the aguaje is very tart and pins both of us to the 10-count in a pucker-face. Aguajes 2, Us 0. Home team advantage?

PURCHASING a cord for our machete sling is the last errand we do before leaving Puerto Maldonado. We have tried our jungle juices, ridden scooters, coordinated a machete ensemble purchase, ridden the Rio Madre de Dios as well as Lago Sandoval, seen lots and lots of wildlife, swam in very warm lake waters after scaring away any potential crocs or rays with lots of paddle smashing from a boat first, and now, I think we’ve tempered enough heat, humidity and cheap accommodations to last us ‘til Patagonia! Time to head back on a nicer bus in less than 20 hours if possible! Thank you, Peruvian Jungle!


NEWS UPDATE: I'm not posting every day now but instead every day that I think you'll find exciting, new, and different, a.k.a. newsworthy. Just to let you know, It's now Sunday Day 112 and we're hoping to leave Cusco today for Puno and Lake Titicaca! Wish us luck! Only a 6-7-hour bus ride this time!

Your landescaper, -n8

Puerto Maldonado 1

Wednesday, October 15th , 2008

Day 108 on The Big Trip. “Getting There”

After a disgusting 20-hour busride with one bathroom stop 3 hours in to get to hot and humid Puerto Maldonado, we were more than ready to see what this town was about. Don't get me wrong: the trip there was nice in parts. I enjoyed the overweight moon that illuminated a likely drunken indigineous midnight parade. I also didn't complain when we heard goat noises that either came from the roof or basement of the bus. But really, the ride could've been better for what we paid, for how long we were confined.

The hostel we chose to stay at should've been named Hostal Bare Bones instead of Hostel Moderno. The nice surprise was that it wasn't just dirty, it was dirty cheap at S/20 total. That includes the coldest shower you've ever really, really, really wanted!

We meet another woman at a tour agency that the Ministry for Tourism recommended. She also wants to do the one-day jungle tour, and why not? It covers the same amount of ground that the two-, three-, and four-day jungle tours do, just in one day!

Thursday, October 16th , 2008

Day 109 on The Big Trip. “So this is Jungle!”

We hurry our breakfast on our way to the Tropical Nature Tours agency office, merely five blocks from our hostel. In this heat, that means a wet shirt away.

Here is our jungle wildness in a nutshell: butterflies, spiders, lots of animal noises, one belonging to an iguana, lizards, baby caiman (like crocodile), papa caiman, lots of birds, swimming after scaring away rays in Lake Sandoval, rope swing, agaujes, lots of tree types, ants, flowers, boat rides up and down the Rio Madre de Dios to get to Tambopata National Reserve and back, vine-climbing, et cetera!


Although we didn't see large animals like we wanted, the experience is unforgettable, and that's why we came!

Great day in the jungle near Puerto Maldonado! Whew!

Cusco 4

Saturday, October 11th , 2008

Day 104 on The Big Trip. “Can we just go to Puno and Lake Titicaca yet?”

WE REST again today. We made ourselves breakfast lunch and dinner, all of which tasted great and were cheap, cheap, cheap – did you hear birds?

CLEARLY we've spent too much time in Cusco: Alisa is trying on the funny masks that I think Patrick Robbins would love to have!

REDUNDANT highlight was two more fried dough sticks for me. They’re so good. I wish I could bring the stand with me! Maybe I’ll just make my own, once in Chile!

MY MOM popped into my thoughts because in the market we started seeing things for Halloween. Boo! Glad I got to talk with you online!

DAD is apparently running around the country and somehow still manages to keep in touch with me and do me a favor by selling the good ole Honda Accord! What the heck!

NICKY is job-getting and biking with JON is buying lamps and feasting with the parents.

WHAT, pray tell, is Sean doing? Rocking the junior year, I suppose.

WHAT, pray tell, is America doing? It’s very odd reading the news whilst abroad. It’s very pleasing to watch the 2nd presidential debate on youtube.com, topic by topic!

THE ARTISAN MARKET today was not overwhelming. At this point in our travels, we have been to so many markets that it’s hard to find anything unique from stall to stall, from market to market. Also, it’s unfortunate that most of what we see in the markets makes me think of tourist-tourist-tourist. I couldn’t wear or use much of what they sell without tagging myself as more of a tourist than I already am! Plus, don’t we have maxed-out packs and a budget?

NEW HIGHLIGHT of the day was being asked by the chef at Loki Hostel, “What are you making?” We know each other’s face quite well by now since I’m frequently popping my head into the Loki kitchen and asking for spatulas, knives, cutting boards, et cetera and running back to the guest kitchen. Rinse and repeat!