Will somebody please update this blog?

Long, hot bus ride
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Yes, yes. Bolivia, yet again. And I spent so little time there. However, most of it, like this here busride, was unforgettable. This one almost turned me off of busses forever. Where have I heard that whiny little voice before? Oh, yeah, right here on this upstanding blog. Ten hours from Uyuni to Tupiza. In one of the ubiquitous Landrovers it would have been 5 or 6. But, thanks to a strike at the local train station, I had to hop on this bus and get myself to Argentina, or somewhere close. Anyway, it was so long ago, I can´t remember it well enough to complain anymore than I already have. Now it is just one of those good times, great times! memories.

But once I hit Argentina shortly after this ride, it felt like I´d travelled 40 years into the future. Paved roads, a seat all to myself, air conditioning and friendly policemen and women shaking down the Bolivians who´d crossed over into Argentina. Did I say 40 years into the future?

The migration police barely looked at my passport, but they sure took an interest in the bottle of normal, run-of-the mill soda the Bolivian in front of me had with him. Perhaps he had somehow opened it, injected it with - what, cocaine? - then *resealed* the bottle. You never can be too certain.

The super friendly Bolivians have gotten the worst rap from all sides down here. Contraband is big business in Bolivia, mainly because it arrives there extremely cheap and they make a bundle hauling it across the borders where they then mark it way up. Sounds like smart business to me, but I never studied economics, or contraband. My parents were into contradancing at one time, does that count?

Aside from the disturbing, gestapoesque intrusions on the bus, the trip through Argentina was dreamy.

Maybe someday I´ll actually be updating this thing in real time, telling you all how real it is while it´s happening. I´ll be the first not holding my breath.

Back to Bolivia

Salar de Uyuni tour
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Sure, sure, you´ve all had it up to here with Bolivia and the Salar de Uyuni, but I´m not done yet. Although I am currently in Salavador da Bahia, Brasil, where it is quite warm and there is a beach not five minutes walk from my apartment, I thought I´d at least post something.

This photo is of Laguna Colorada, almost the highest point of the Salar tour, roughly 4.5 kilometers above sea level. That´s right,
kilometers.

While there, my lungs were blessed with the opportunity to play soccer with some Argentinos and a group of the Bolivian chofers.

Guess who won?

There was lots of grabbing the knees and wheezing involved. Also lots of spitting. I think at one point I spit up half a lung. Good times.
Great times! Definitely one of the highlights of the trip, although I came away with no goals, only an assist.

And yes, we did lose.

The next morning our driver woke us up at 4am. Yes please and thank you! This was so that we could see the geysers further up the road in the darkness. Yes, you can see steam in the dark. But, more importantly, the early wake-up call was so that I could get my ass in the hotsprings at 6am. Another first at 6am for me. The water was fantastic and I had the pool to myself for a good ten minutes before everyone else figured out I wasn´t totally nuts. I´m from Idaho MFer´s, we grow these things on trees back there! Or in the richly geologically active ground, whichever. Details.

The hotsprings is situated at 5 kilometers above sea level. The highest I´ve ever been, both literally and toxicalogically speaking.

From there it was a trip to La Laguna Verde, yes, it is green. Then a 8 to 10 hour trip in the Landcruiser back to Uyuni.

El cerro de siete colores

Salar de Uyuni tour
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Sure, seven, why not? Don´t know that all seven colors are visible in this photo. Maybe the winds weren´t quite magical enough. Still purty though.

Even though I am currently in Brazil, the current barrage of photos are from Bolivia, waaaay back in January. Who remembers January? Is everybody happy it is March? Very good then. I spend way too much time as it is uploading photos to flickr and I am still a month and a half behind.

What more can I say about Bolivia and the Salar de Uyuni tour? The scenery is some of the most spectacular I´ve seen in South America (did I already mention that?) and Bolivia is definitely the most impoverished country I´ve been in, not to say they aren´t rich in spirit.

It was a bit of a sprint through the country. The goal was to get to Buenos Aires and then get back to Peru in about three and a half weeks. All overland. Travelling overland in Bolivia can be tricky as they love a good strike. There were two when I was there, one in Copacabana (that´s the ORIGINAL Copacabana for all of you singing along with Barry Manilow right now) and another in Uyuni. The first strike wasn´t actually in Copacabana, rather that´s where I was and I was trying to reach La Paz. Some branch of the transportation workers were protesting a raise in insurance costs and blocked the main road into La Paz.

The second strike I noticed after getting back from the tour of the Salar. Actually I noticed there were a bunch of people gathered on the tracks outside the train station and I thought they were just having a nice Sunday afternoon gettogether. I was tired. Later I realized my misreading of the situation when I was waiting at the train station and there was no train, just me and some of the employees. After finally asking them if there actually was a train - originally they told me ``yes, the train does leave at 10:30 on Saturdays``- leaving that night, they told me ``No , there is a strike´´. Glad we could clear that up.

Back to the hotel to wait for a super fun busride from Uyuni to Tupiza the next morning.

Salt miners of Bolivia unite!

Salar de Uyuni
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Ahhh, Bolivia. It seems like so long ago that you charged me $100 USD to enter your fine establishment. All part of a trend down here to reciprocate US visa entrance fees. Do you think this fella shoveling salt for a living comes across a $100 very often? Not that I want to pay more, but it seems to me reciprocating would be to charge US citizens about $1000. But then they wouldn´t have very many of us spending are soon-to-be worthless dollars in their country. Brazil, Bolivia and Chile are the only ones at the moment, but I can´t be bothered to actually verify that as a true statement.

The tour of the Salar de Uyuni is a main event in the poorest nation in South America. Uyuni is home to some ridiculous number (200? 2000? 23? nobody really knows) of Toyota Landcruisers, all used to haul tourists around the region on three to four day tours. Of course, the new models are in high demand, but were they really designed to be a rugged four wheel drive vehicle? Hell no! They´re made for driving the kids to their ping-pong and flute lessons across town. That being the case, the new models are not lasting as long as the classics from the seventies and eighties. Imagine that. The salt flat is especially harsh on their electrical systems. The fiberglass bodies don´t seem to be holding up either.

The tour is amazing, arriving at some of the most psychedelic landscapes this side of your eyelids. Have you ever really looked at your hand? No need when there´s El Cerro de Siete Colores, a hillside that changes colors in the wind thanks to all the delicious minerals present in the soil. Maybe when I get around to uploading that photo I´ll let you see it.

Is this thing on?

hangliding in Rio
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Yes, well, once you get behind in your half-assed blogging efforts the harder it is to overcome your whole-assed procrastination efforts. Or something to that effect.

What better way to get things rolling again than with a picture of yours truly soaring over one of the richest neighborhoods in Rio de Janeiro? Up against that rock formation in the background is an enormous favela. They´ve got a lovely view of the golf course. As did I.

Never actually flown with the birds before. Quite something. Highly recommended, though a bit expensive. My instructor drives up the mountain and flies down several times a day to the tune of $140 a pop. That price is quickly going up as the dollar continues its race to the bottom of the pile. Since I´ve arrived in Brazil three weeks ago the dollar has dropped 7 cents. Last July the exchange rate was 2 to 1, now it is 1.68 to 1. Good times. Apparently Warren Buffet made several more billion dollars investing in the Real. And enough of that random crap.

Hangliding over Rio! What better way to celebrate the plummeting dollar than by floating down to the beach?

The flight lasted around 15 minutes, which was the only disappointing part since the instructors were raving about the perfect conditions and the experts were soaring higher and higher on the thermals above the launchpad. Why can´t we go up like them?

Perhaps almost as exhilirating was the drive up. Our driver knew the winding road amazingly well and was doing about 100km/hour the whole way up.

There is plenty to catch up on and since I ain´t much of a linear kind of guy I will fill in the spaces in a non-chronological kind of way.

More train fun

P1050268
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

The lonliest cyclist in Perú.

Actually, that´s a blatant lie as there were several along this highway.

Why must you turn my office into a house of lies!?

I´m sorry, it´s my problem, I´ll deal with it.

More training to Puno

P1050256
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

This was taken approaching the highest point we reached during the trip, something like 14, 210 feet, my apologies to the metric world. So, you can only imagine how high those peaks in the background are.

Taining in.

P1050249
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Sure, sure, there´s plenty more to tell about Cusco, but who´s
got the time? Certainly not me what with my priceless daily hours
spent on the various internets throughout South America.

So, to wrap up my funandgreat times in Cusco: I stayed for Christmas, I stayed for New Years, both memorable in their bombasticness. In order to celebrate both holidays properly,
TNT is apparently the firework of choice. Doesn´t matter if it is
illegal, you got to light that stick and set it down next to someone
you´ve never seen before. BOOM! What terrifying fun! Never
been so shell shocked in my life. I´ve never actually been shell-
shocked, so that last statement is riddled with truth.

Now, the train ride. I was hoping to save some money and travel
with the backpackers, but that service is out of service; only the
deluxe service is now servicing the best of the best tourists
travelling from Cusco to Puno. So, what the hell, I´ll pay $130 for
a 10 hour train ride. Yet again, the Peru Rail experience did not
disappoint, serving up another one of the most surreal travel experiences of the trip. And yes, there was a fashion show.

Perhaps it is the contrast of luxurious, monied tourists traveling in a luxurious, monied train through an extremely impoverished region that makes the experience stand out. On the way out of Cusco I was
staring blankly out the window when a swiftly traveling stone struck the train not three feet from my window. Take that, rich people!

Sarcasm aside, being able to travel in such accomodations is an extreme privilege, to be sure. Made all the more apparent by the refinery of the train and the abject poverty that the train passes through. Who doesn´t love carving up a nice juicy steak, washing it
down with a fine red wine while staring out the (protective) windows at the incredible scenery?

On the other train from Machu Picchu to Cusco, I was basking in the contrasts yet again, staring out the windows at the scenery and the people when I read the lips of one local: "¡pinches ricos!" I´ll let you all translate that one on your own internets time.

To be able to travel as I do through this part of the world is, again,
quite the privilege. Especially considering the fact that a lot the people living in the "third world" conditions down here would risk their lives and families to be able to earn the minimum wage in the US of A. Quite the paradox.

To conclude, I loved and hated the train ride. Some of the most incredible landscapes I´ve ever passed through, accompanied by some of the richest people I`ve ever been around. Nothing wrong with them, just the constant reminder that being rich does not mean
that you have taste. Yeesh, some of the worst fashion mistakes I´ve
ever seen. Thus, I´ve just negated anything of substance that may have ocurred in this post. Excellent.

Late capitalist fun on the train!

Funandgreat on the train
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

This was by far one of the most surreal moments of the trip. These two handsome employees performed a stunning alpaca fashion show for about 30 minutes.

But first, there was this guy....

Let the fun begin!

Funandgreat on the train
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Before the high fashion really got rollin´, this fella danced up and down the aisle in the more "traditional" manner. Most likely scaring the bejeezus out of the mostly non-peruvian crowd. "Oh dear, do you think that could be one of those Shining Path people?"

The two employees who then did multiple runway walks in $2-300 alpaca sweaters were definitely of a different class than this masked employee. This was evident on two levels: 1) the "models" were the attendants in three piece suits who waited on the clients; the other fellow wore more of a doorman type uniform and performed more menial tasks; 2) I am loathe to play the race card, but it was hard to miss. The "models" were most definitely from a higher socioeconomic class and just a bit whiter than the man in the mask. Only an observation. Does that make me racist? Or am I just programmed to see things that way coming from the most PC of
nations?

Anyway, shock and awe were two feelings I felt as the crowd clapped and whistled (was that a wolf whistle I just heard? ) during the fashion show. But how many models have to then hand sell the wares they just paraded up and down the aisle to their audience? Take that Paris and New York!

Machupicchumachupicchumachupicchu

Machupicchumachupicchumachupicchu
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

And then there was Machu Picchu. The above photo was taken from Huaynapicchu, something like "young" or "little picchu". That was quite a hike, but certainly no lack of tourists making the ascent with their
hearts beating rabidly against the confines of their ribcages and the lack of oxygen.

Coudn´t keep my finger off that big button on the camera despite the three hours of fog and rain.

The park is all it´s cracked up to be and more. Vertiginous, awe inspiring, dumbfounding and jaw-dropping. Although I´d like to see
a real live Incan priest pull a still-beating heart out of a llama´s chest. You know, just to round out the experience. That´d make a neat-o beer commercial.

Speaking of beer commercials, one was being filmed here in the last couple of years and one of the camera cranes swung wildly and chipped a corner off the sundial. Oh, that thing has worked in years! It never tells the correct time. Just a little late capitalist fun in one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Qosqo - el ombligo del mundo

La plaza de armas, Cusco
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Now we´re getting somewhere. Where exactly, who can say?

Cusco was/is great. Again, very colonial, lots of tourists. Probably
more tourists per square centimeter than any other place in South America. It is, afterall, the launching pad for Machu Picchu.

I stayed at a Bed and Breakfast called "La panza del artista." Highly recommended. I was the only guest, but don´t let that fool you. The family that runs the place is great and Carlos, the father/husband will regale you with jokes every morning, while María, his wife, whips up a mean breakfast.

I also met some wonderful people in Cusco, a nice community of young artists doing their thing trying to sell their paintings and photos to the wandering hordes of tourists. One of these outstanding citizens spent two years traversing Perú on foot at the
ripe age of 17; he walked from one village to the next "studying" their fiestas. When party ended somebody would inform him: "there´s another party in the next village over. Here, I´ll take you." Nice way to see the country.

Worst blogger EVER!

Ceviche, Fory Fay, Arequipa
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Whoah, how long has it been? I don´t even remember.

Here´s a picture of the most amazing ceviche I consumed on
this trip. Perhaps I picked this pic as I can still remember the flavor;
maybe because I ate that red pepper on top and I still very much
remember that.

Arequipa. Let´s see... dig deep in the memory box. Very colonial.

How´s that?

Cobble stone streets swarming with yellow taxis.

Lots of colonial churches, lots of tourists.

The food was great. Also had some incredible anticucho de corazón,
shiskabob of beef heart.

Apparently the sun is extra strong in Arequipa. That or they all have really bad eyesight. On one street there were three or four blocks in which EVERY store was an "Optica."

Alrighty, then. On to Cusco, the bellybutton of the world.

Wild West in Iquitos

Waterfront, Iquitos
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Iquitos.

The first thing you notice about Iquitos is the noise. Well, maybe the punishing tropical heat first, then the noise.

Surrounded by three rivers, Iquitos is an island in the middle of the amazonian jungle; the largest city in the world only accessible by boat or plane. Disembarking from the plane is like getting wrapped in a hot, steaming towell. From there on out you sweat. Arriving at 7am, the temperature was 26 degrees celsius, the humidity surely was hovering around 90%. I left Lima wearing a sweater and a rain jacket.

As with all airports, bus terminals or train stations there was a crowd of taxi cab drivers (taxistas) offering their services: "amigo, taxi. amigo, taxi. amigo, taxi." Being offered a taxi for five soles ($1.66), I took it. The taxis are three wheeled motorcycles lacking mufflers.
The city is overrun with them, thus the noise. The only time you can really hear yourself think is between 1am and 5am. At 5am the city explodes with a resounding eructation of collective ignition. From then on all you can hear are thousands of unmuffled mototaxis circuiting the city.

Sonic relief can be found if you escape to the jungle, however, a completely distinct sonic experience awaits you there, that of the ... jungle. Duh.

Before I get behind myself...

Lima - another fixer upper for sale
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

I almost forgot about Lima. How could I forget about precious Lima?
So many good memories.

On the 7th of December I returned to Lima for a couple nights of big city fun before flying off to Iquitos.

Stayed in Miraflores at "Home Peru". Lovely place for a reasonable price. Apparently an old converted mansion (?) or perhaps just a stately manor.

Cruised up and down Avenida Arequipa. Took in a movie, La Brújula Dorada, or The Golden Compass. More like a golden turd. What a bitter disappointment. Phillip Pullman should ask to have his name pulled from the project. It was dubbed in Spanish, so that made it perhaps less disappointing as the English version has some fine actors doing voice-overs.

Like any other city of 7+ million people, Lima is borderline psychotic. Noisy and filthy, but not without its charms.

One thing antipodinal (did I just make that up?) about city life down here in South America, or at least Peru, is that the poor people live in the hills and the rich people live down in the city. Seems like every other North American city the rich are clammering to get higher and higher out of the filth of the basin. Who knows?

Did do some fine dining in Lima at La Gloria. It was glorious. Cheaper than it would have been in the States, but still not that cheap.

On Sunday morning at 3am I fled the city to see how if I could sweat out the urban toxins in Iquitos.

El Carmen, Perú

El Carmen, Perú
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Where was I? Bouncing back and forth along the southern coast.

A quick review: Nov. 28th, landed in Lima, got robbed, fled to the desert oasis of Huacachina for several days; Dec. 2nd, flew over Nazca lines, then back north to Pisco; in Pisco stayed at el Hostal Tambo Colorado, owned and operated by a lovely couple; from Pisco went to Paracas to catch a boat out to Las Islas Ballestas; after the boat ride, a tour of La Reserva Nacional de Paracas, incredible desert landscapes; after Pisco I made a split second decision to go back to Huacachina, what the hell; then off to Chincha for a night; in the afternoon caught a colectivo out to El Carmen, the center of Afro-Peruvian culture; much to my naive chagrin, there was no music or dancing in the streets, those travel guides paint in such broad strokes; from there I went to Lima for a couple of nights before catching a plane to Iquitos, the largest city in the word accessible only by plane or boat. Ok, that was about as quick as I could make it.

Next up, I will travel back in time to review my time in Iquitos.

Playing catch up

Paracas Reserva Nacional - Red Sand Beach
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Sure, "they" say you´re supposed to record things as they happen so they´re nice and fresh. But, I ain´t so fresh like that.

As can be noted by the photos from Paracas, I can´t seem to get enough of posting them to this here blog.

This could be perceived as a disasociative form of recounting the trip, but I suppose that´s the kind of traveler recounter (?) I am.

One form of travel I learned to loathe rather quickly was the bus. There are buses to represent all classes of society and as an American with the ability to buy my way into the upper echelon of Peruvian travel, that´s just what I did.

However, I soon discovered that the "cruzero class", one step below the super elite class, on the Cruz del Sur busline is not very conducive for sleeping. One way in which they accomplish this is by playing movies very loudly. Also, the selection of movies can be a bit discomfiting. Traveling through the coastal desert south of Lima, the first movie was Babel. Said movie begins with a young moroccan sharp shooter nailing Cate Blanchett in the neck while traveling by bus in a desert. Yes. Nervous laughter as I uneasily rubbed my neck.

After the movie, or movies, finish the music comes on. Who doesn´t love the pan flute in all its varied forms, from classic Andean folclórico to modern interpretations of 80´s classics? Somehow this reminded me of the film Aguirre: Wrath of God, wherein Aguirre demands that the peruvian panflutist keep playing the same song over and over.

Another super fun bus ride was the overnight trip from Lima to Arequipa, a mere 15 hours. Sleep came in uneasy fits. Then became a kind of hallucinatory nighmare when we hit the winding highway towering above the ocean. The back and forth twisting and turning was really great in its own right. The lack of a shoulder, much less a guard rail elevated the comfort levels to altitudes similar to the drop down to the sea. Then there was the leapfrogging between competing buses. We´d pass one, in the dark on a curvy highway, mind you, then they´d pass us back. Sometimes this happened while just up the road coming at us in the opposite direction were two semi-trailers playing the same game.

Chincha, Perú

Chincha, Perú
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

And then there was Chincha. It was hit eqully hard by the earthquakeand is in much the same state as Pisco.

The building to the left is El Hostal Posada, where I was staying. The building next to it did not survive the earthquake. While in Chincha there was a tremor of 5.4. I was in my room on the third floor. In about five seconds I had put my boots on and was on the street.

Pisco, Perú

Pisco, Perú, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

The aftermath of the August 15th earthquake. The town was 80% destroyed and they are still clearing out the rubble in order to start rebuilding. Many countries have sent money to Perú, but apparently it has not found its way out of the pockets of bureaucratic pants.

Tsunami - La Reserva Nacional de Paracas

Paracas Reserva Nacional - tsunami site, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

This little bit of water is what remains of a lake created by the tsunami generated by the earthquake. Nearby were three tourist restaurants that were destroyed. My guide, Jesus, commented that it was better that they were wiped out as they regularly overcharged customers, creating an uncomfortable situation for the guides.

Reserva Nacional de Paracas - el suelo lunar

Reserva Nacional de Paracas - suelo lunar, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

After Huacachina I headed south to fly over the Nazca Lines. My bus passed an airplane that had to make an emergency landing on the highway. I´m sure that sort of thing happens all the time.

After flying over the Nazca Lines, which was amazing, there is not much to see in Nazca and it was beastly hot. My guide advised me to take the next bus out of town. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for the town itself. From there I caught to bus to Pisco, the epicenter of the August 15th earthquake. A friend in Huacachina informed me that the government of Perú has emergency funds allocated for earthquakes over 8.0 on the Richter scale. The initial reports, according to said friend, came in at 8.4. After some consideration, the official score was 7.8 or 7.9. Just below the level needed to distribute funds. Close, but no disaster. A crazy conspiracy theory or just another notch on the belt of corruption?

The above photo was taken in La Reserva Nacional de Paracas, just outside Pisco. Perhaps some of my favorite scenery in Perú. The whole coastline is a long expanse of desert with shades of red thanks to iron and mineral deposits. Not unlike the red planet.

Open Veins of Pisco

90 years young with pisco, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

A spry ninety years old, este señor claims the secret to his longevity is regular consumption of pisco. Mantiene las veinas limpias.

Who then, in their right mind, would turn down a shot or two or three after such an endorsement?

Thus, I concluded my visit to La Bodega Lazo on the outskirts of Ica, Perú by cleansing my veins with this fine gentleman.

El Hostal Salvatierra, Huacachina

salvatierra huacachina, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

My accomodations in Huacahina. Actually, the second place I stayed.
The first place doesn´t deserve mentioning as I paid too much for ice cold service (La Hoseteria Suiza...whoopsy). Salvatierra is family run and has been around since the 30´s. They are a very sweet family and I cannot recommend their services enough.