Getting off the gringo trail in Peru

Peru, land of the iconic Macchu Picchu, the mysterious Nazca lines, beautiful beaches, Lima and Lake Titicaca. I travelled to all of these places this month and had a great time. But, I have to say, my favorite place in Peru was the Chachapoyas region. Underappreciated, for sure. When I was in Southern Ecuador, I met a Peruano who had travelled extensively both in Peru and other countries. He had just spent 2 weeks in Chachapoyas and raved and raved. So - myself and 2 American friends decided we had to go. We spent almost a whole day figuring out how we could do the trip on our own - walk for part, catch a bus or collectivo for part, etc. In the end, we decided it was far easier to go with the tour and it saved us probably 2 days waiting for transport, etc. One of the main reasons Chachapoyas is so great is that there really are very few tourists there. It is quite the contrast to, Macchu Picchu, for example. The town itself is a lovely, quiet colonial town, with views of the surrounding mountains. We set off from Chachapoyas early in the morning and drove to see the Sarcophagi built high up into the mountainside. The Chachapoyas people date back to pre-Incan times and had their own very developed culture. They actually helped the conquistadors in their fight against the Incas. This area hasn't had the money for restoration poured into it like other parts of Peru, for example - so there are hundreds of ruins, houses, etc hidden under the overgrown forest. After the Sarcophagi we drove to see the Valley of Belen. Such a pristine valley with this perfect river running through it.
From here we started our trek. Gorgeous scenery throughout and never saw another sole. It was the three of us and a French couple. The French were having a tough time with the hike and we ended up waiting for them quite a bit. Thankfully our guide, Augusto, was quite the character. He spoke 6 or maybe 7 languages and entertained us teaching us words in Spanish. We continued to stop along the way to look at Chachapoyas ruins hidden in the forest. Arrived at the first town - Congon and stayed the night there. Most of these towns along our trek, by the way, can only be reached by foot or horse/mule! Not many roads in Chachapoyas. We stayed with a family, whose house seemed to function as the town center - people were constantly coming and going, stopping by for food, etc. The owners of the house had us sit in the kitchen while they prepared the dinner. So - imagine this, here we are sitting at the table to one side,
next to us is the senora cooking and then beyond her is the area where the cuy live. Cuy means guinea pig, which are really not pets in most parts of South America, they are food. I haven't been able to bring myself to try them yet... buy here they were in their little cozy home waiting to be killed and eaten at some point. They apparently like warm, dark places - like next to the fire!

Set off the next day and found out that we are going to be spending almost the entire day (10 hours?) on horseback. We had 3 horses for the 2 of us, so we got to alternate. Thank goodness. I didn't realize how difficult riding a horse was. I was on the "horse" most of the day, instead of the mule and apparently horses are more stubborn. This animal did not listen to me at all - despite hitting it with a switch all day long, which I hated to do!

:( Frustrating. The 3 of us did far better than the French couple, however, who continued to have problems. Knowing I was a doctor, they had lots of questions for me - first they thought it was the malaria tablets, then the food, then something else. I really didn't think there was anything wrong with them and it's not easy to tell someone they are just out of shape!
Anyway... the scenery continued to be beautiful throughout - had a lovely lunch at a house perched on top of the mountain with a 360 vista (here I am in their garden), continued through cloud forest and we finally arrived in the next town, Chactamal.
Left the next morning for Keulap - the biggest remaining ruin of the Chachapoyas people - a large city and fortress built up high on a hill. Spent the day wandering around there. Definitely not as well preserved as Macchu Picchu, but there is something very cool about finding ruins in their more natural state - like you just discovered them.

The Highs and Lows of Travelling

Ah, yes, the highs and lows of travelling. Perhaps that's why we enjoy travelling so much... Life is so easy most of the time. Days are filled with decisions like... should I read my book for a while or go for a beer and watch the sunset? Get up early for a hike or stay out on the town salsa dancing? The most stressful thing is usually being a little sleepy from the night bus and stumbling into the daylight in a new town to look for your new hostel. Yet you live for the moment so intensely because there is always the possibility looming that you will be chained to a toilet with the ´both ends disease´, or held at gun point when robbers board your night bus, or have an accident trying one of the various ´adventure sports´, like ´bike the world's most dangerous road´! (no waivers to sign here!) or, my personal favorite: die in a horrible bus crash as our oh so safe drivers overtake on blind curves. None of these things have happened to me so far, thank goodness. I am happy and healthy and thoroughly enjoying myself. I did, however, have my entire backpack stolen from underneath the bus I was on. Quite upsetting at the time. Anyone who knows all my trip planning details knows that I was kind of an anal packer. Determined to be the perfect ´light-packer´ I really did do quite well in my preparation. Too well, in fact. It was perfect. I had read lots of internet lists and blogs about how to be the perfect light packer - everything essential and nothing extra. The pants I had were the perfect pants - you could trek in them, yet wear them out on the town; the jacket the perfect jacket - warm, yet light and condensable. I almost had to laugh - Oh, Allison, you did so well! And all for naught! For the first couple of days all I did was think of all the items that couldn't be replaced... my Galapagos pictures and the back-ups, my lovely journal given by friends in Seattle with sweet messages written in it, the 2 bags of coffee I bought in Columbia from the coffee plantation I stayed on... Alas. It's just stuff. It was a good learning experience for me in a lot of ways. Definitely forces you to be more flexible. And not to be too attached to material things. The first two weeks I only bought things as I needed them. Bikini and flip flops when at the beach, trekking pants when I was in the mountains. I travelled with only a plastic bag at first and then upgraded to a small duffel bag. What was amazing was that the people at the bus station who usually hound you trying to get you on their bus ´Quito, Quito, Quito¨... didn't bother me at all!What is a backpacker without her backpack?

So, these are the before and after pictures. Here is me pre-theft, relaxing in Baños, exited to be on my own for the first time really since my trip started. This is the view off my back porch overlooking the garden and the waterfall. I had just had a massage and was looking forward to a nice dinner.

And here is me shortly after with the new reward sign I made, with help from my Aussie friend Andrew. (For you spanish speakers, yes, I know there is a typo which I painstaking went around fixing on all the signs :)

After Baños I headed to Vilcabamba for more R and R and stayed at the lovely Ichzcaluma hostel. A resort with dorm rooms for backpackers. Here is the view from the restaurant. Had another massage, and facial and Reiki! And went on a beautiful hike in the great rolling hills with some new American friends, followed by a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. Ahh... things are looking up again!

Iglesias Locas

I definitely needed to write a blog post about churches as I saw 3 crazy ones back to back. Wild. The first one was near Bogota, Colombia in Zapiquira and was completely underground, inside a salt mine. It was originally built by the salt miners in the 1950s, but this structure became too unstable and dangerous. They then had a competition for architects to design the new one - which was constructed in the 1990s. The pictures don´t even do it justice. The structure and scale is massive. There is the main section of the church - with pews and the massive cross at the front. Then, along the path to the main section are the stations of the cross, each with their own cross. Smaller, but still not so small as you can see by me standing in front of this one... and they are all carved out of the salt of the mine.
The second church was near Impiales, Colombia, close to the border of Ecuador. This church was built into the side of a ravine. Again, I don´t think the pictures do it justice - but it is a unique place for sure. And, finally, the cathedral in Baños, Ecuador. Baños is located within lava-spewing distance from the volcano Tungurahua, and I think this gives the people an interesting perspective on life. They seem to be quite religious and pray to El Virgen de Aguas Santas, Our Lady of the Holy Waters. (There are thermal hot springs there.) The church has these paintings covering the walls and they all depict, in graphic details, various disasters or injuries for which they prayed to El Virgen de Aguas Santas and miracles happened! For example here we see a guy who fell off a cliff, with his horse, into the river and survived!
Various volcano eruptions, people falling from heights, getting smashed by trees... you name it, the Virgen saved them!

La Ciudad Perdida, part two

(continued...) Arrived at the lost city, La Ciudad Perdida, via stone steps climbing straight out of the river - hundreds of steps up to the terraces of the city. La Ciudad Perdida was the holy city of the Tyrona people. It was built in the 800s AD and was in existence until the arrival of the conquistadors in the 1500s. The conquistators actually never made it to La Ciudad Perdida, but they conquered the Tyrona people who were living at the coast and, by way of infectious disease, managed to spread their foreign germs to the Tyrona people futher in the jungle and wipe them out. The jungle took over the city and was only discovered in the 1970s. 3 days from the nearest non-indiginous village it certainly is remote. There are 50 military stationed there, who seemed to be having a grand time. Actually they really were excited to see people. This one guy ran up to me while I was walking ahead to take some pictures. I was sure I had done something wrong and was going to get yelled at. No, he just wanted to chat me up! Sarah, Brooke, Muz and I had fun with our military photo session, as you can see.








Spent the night at the lost city and then started our trek back down. Here is us at the end... whew.










So, I said I´d get back to the Kogui people. They are the indiginous people living near the lost city and claim to be the direct descendents of the Tyrona. We kept interacting with them both on the trail and in our camps - the trail intersected their village and homes. Until La Ciudad Perdida became a tourist destination they had little interaction with the non-indiginous community. To this day the Kogui people who live above La Ciudad Perdida do not speak any Spanish and have not interacted with the ´outside world¨. I only have a picture of Kogui from afar. I really felt self-conscious taking photos of them up close. They seemed so shy and cautious around us, that's for sure. Our guide, Beto, filled us in on the lives of the Kogui. Well, it is a hard life, for the women anyway. As soon as they have their first period, they get married and start having children. They have one baby every year after that until - they have a birth complication, or a child with problems, or they can no longer get pregnant. They also grow and harvest all the crops, prepare meals and care for all of their children. The children, by the way, start having to pull their weight pretty early on. We came across 2 children - one about 4 or 5 who was minding his 2-ish year old sibling - just cruising around the jungle by themselves. By 40 the women are old, old. The men have it pretty easy by comparison. They take care of chopping down the big trees and, as far as we could tell, spend most of the day twirling their poporos, gourds with little sticks mashing the coca leaves up with snail shell which extracts the coca. We learned about 3 ´sacrifices´ which the Kogui still perform. The first is that if a child is born with a deformity or medical problem, they are suffocated by the chief. The second is that if twins are born, the weaker of the twins is also suffocated (the theme here is that the woman are pretty busy with their annual newborn, the rest of the children and all the other work they have to do, they certainly can't have 2 babies at once or a baby with problems!) And the last sacrifice is that when they get too old to travel to the village (crossing the river, etc, etc) they are given the ´special tea´ - which kills them. For the women this means late 40s, early 50s! The men seem to live a lot longer, or at least Beto told us about a chief who was 90 and had a new 15 year old wife. Oh yeah, once a woman can't have children anymore the husband can take a new wife, of course. Well I, for one, am pretty glad I wasn't born a Kogui woman!

La Ciudad Perdida, part one

La Ciudad Perdida. Lonely Planet describes this trek as an 'Indiana Jones style adventure', and they are not just kidding. I had heard from several traveler friends that this 6-day trek was a highlight of their travels, not to be missed. So, my friend, Sarah, and I decided that was all we needed to hear and, despite knowing few details, signed up enthusiastically. The group headed out on November 4th - election day - and I left thinking that I wouldn't find out the new president-elect of my country for 6 more days. Our group of 8 set out with our quiet guide, Beto, and his assistant and cook, Ismael. Right off, we were told that the road that the trek usually takes by Jeep prior to starting the actual trekking was washed out with all the rain - which would add 2 hours to our trekking time that day (from 5 to 7 hours.) Oh - did I mention that October and November are the rainy season in this part of Colombia? Travelers are recommended to do this trek anytime but the rainy season. Hmm. Anyway - we started off. 2 hours up we stopped at the village for lunch - no problems at all. The hike started to get steep, and long. Peter, one of the Swedes didn't feel so well and hopped on a mule (Peter and Lars flew straight from Stockholm to Bogota and bussed it directly up to start this trek. More on them later.) We continued along. Then it started raining. Downpouring, actually. The trail, which was already pretty crappy - torn up by mules and muddy as can be - got quite a bit worse. It was useless trying to avoid the muddy parts at this point and we had to start slogging through. Lars was wearing Tevas and, sick of them getting stuck - just decided to go barefoot through the mud slosh. Then it got dark. This proved to be even more interesting. At this point we had no hope of seeing the trail and were really slogging through the mud - up to our knees! We finally arrived at the 'hostel', essentially someone's home with a space for hammocks strung up for us. Here is what we looked like when we arrived. Wet and muddy!
That night, Lars started having the both ends disease and was in pretty rough shape. Uh oh. Oh yeah, and I whacked my head on a cross beam while coming back from the outhouse in the dark - and had some concussive symptoms. Great! (what is it with me and head injuries?) Slept, or at least lay down horizontally, in our hammocks. My first adventure with hammock sleeping, not as easy as I thought it would be.
Up the next morning and went through the routine: put on same wet clothes from the day before (we each had one day/wet set and one night/dry set), still wet of course, slathered ourselves in Deet and/or this stuff they sell there called 'No Pickex', a soap you don't rinse off (pretty sure it would be too toxic to be sold in the states,) then slathered the sun screen, treated the water for the day and after a lovely breakfast made by Ismael - we were off!
Oh, wait, what do you know? The family had a TV! That first morning I got to find out that Obama won. Yay!!! Glad to not have to wait for 6 days to find out. But no details. All they said was 'El negro gano!' (the black man won.) Was thinking of all of you celebrating at home, and feeling very far away - in the middle of the jungle. Here is where I saw the news!
The second day was not as difficult. Only 4 hours - and we walked through the villages of the indigenous people in the area, the Kogui. (More on the Kogui later.) This time we made it to the cabin before the rain started. And we even got to stay in real beds that night! Lars and Peter had made it this far, but travelled the second day on mules and were both feeling pretty sick and weak. Mules weren't possible on the last day and they had to head back without getting to the lost city, which was a bummer.
The third day, and trek up to the lost city, was in a lot of ways the most challenging. Maybe not physically, but somehow emotionally. Definitely the most technically challenging. In the beginning we had to traverse, essentially bouldering, across a rock face with a straight, steep drop down to the river below. Oh, and the rock was wet - of course! Then we crossed the river using this pulley device that the indigenous people made. High above the rapids. You know how I love the heights! I didn't look down. Here is Maarten going across. Then the trail proceeded up the river - and we crossed it 8 more times on foot. The rapids were crazy strong. Here is Maarten again demonstrating one of the crossings. There is NO way I would have made it across without either a rope or the guide holding onto my hand. I felt the current pulling me down every time I crossed. One time the river was up to my chest.
Finally we arrived at the entrance to La Ciudad Perdida, the lost city. No wonder this place wasn't discovered until the 1970s. The stone steps rise right out of the river, and climb and climb.... (continued in part two.)

Ahh... Colombia

Beautiful Colombia. What is it about Colombia? As soon as you cross the border - something is different. Is it the lush green mountains? The coffee farms? The salsa? No - I think it is the people. So friendly, chatty, and welcoming. So happy and full of the joie de vivre. They really want to get to know you. I think this is the reason so many people fall in love with this country. I sure did. It does seem a contrast for a country that has been through so much! Such resilience. Or maybe it is living through the trauma of the narcotics war that has made people have more of a life zest?

And there are still signs of the narcotics war everywhere. I have never seen so many men with guns in my life. They are EVERYWHERE. The highway, the grocery store, tourist attractions. Police. Military. Military Police. I guess it's supposed to make us feel safer? And, by the way, I think the average age is about 19. We decided that the military must have a good dental plan because 3/4 of them have braces! Teenagers with braces and big guns. It's quite the picture.
Despite this, I have to say that at first the sight of them was a bit disconcerting. We arrived in southern Colombia from Ecuador and in our second stop, Popayan, there happened to be a protest going on. Down the street from our hostel there was a line of police ready with their big 'riot shields'. Yikes. It was actually a protest on the government / president Uribe by the indiginous people and farmers for more rights. Seemed to be under control, but was still going on in Cali - where we had planned to head the next day. All info we gathered made it seem like we shouldn't have any problems. Headed out to the bus station with a guy we met in the hostel. Boarded the bus in Popayan and, about an hour on our way, we were stopped by the highway police. This had happened to us before and wasn't concerning at first. They usually just searched bags and seemed to pay more attention to the locals than the tourists. But this time was different. They only targeted the four of us. Asked us to get off the bus and took our passports. Double yikes. They searched our bags thoroughly. Oh, and our bus continued on without us. Barely even gave us time to get our stuff off the bus! We were in the middle of nowhere. They asked us a million annoying questions. What I did for a living, how much money I made, etc. Really started pissing me off and I don't hide that well (got to work on that, police don't like you to show them attitude.) They even wanted to see our cameras. What do you know, I had just taken a few photos of police from afar on my taxi ride to the Popayan bus station. I quickly deleted them as I was walking over to hand him my camera. Whew. After what seemed like an eternity (actually about 2 1/2 hours) they let us go. Drove us back to the bus station. When we got there different police again interrogated us. Thankfully, they didn't keep us for long. Of course we had to buy new bus tickets! The word was that they were looking for a couple of tourists who were trafficking. Hmmm. Anyway - after this incident we really didn't have any other problems. I hate to say it but I actually got so used to seeing the military and the police everywhere that I stopped even noticing their presence. Crazy.

And to go with these very random blog thoughts, I've included this random picture of dyed chicks. Yeah. I'm not sure either. They were in the baggage compartment on our bus across the border. Despite asking the owner of the chicks, and several other people, I never really got a good answer. They came in blue and green as well. Something like - it's a kitch quirky thing to sell?? was about the best answer I got.

Luxuriating in Los Galapagos

After 2 weeks of the backpacker lifestyle, I went to the Galapagos. It was a big decision - big money for a backpacker budget, really. But so many people have told me I must go, and encouraged going for as long as possible. I met a few others at the hostel who were thinking about it as well and we decided just to go for it. And we went big - 8 day luxury catamaran trip. Amazing. Honestly, I just got back and it is a difficult adjustment. We had 3 gourmet meals a day and 2 snacks. They put little napkin jackets around our beer bottles. They made our beds every day and if you left your crap on them they folded it into neat little piles. Our days were filled with hikes on the islands, snorkeling, relaxing on the boat... rough, I know. The animals were amazing. So fearless and oblivious to us. You are really in their space. Truly a unique place in this world. Alas, now it´s back to loud crowded dorm rooms, unreliable hot water, bumpy bus rides and scrounging for food. I´m sure you all feel sorry for me.

Pata de Vaca in Quilotoa

Left Quito and headed for the Quilotoa Loop - small villages tucked in the Ecuadorian Andes. Made it to Quilotoa - where there is a volcanic crater lake. Rode horses around the crater and had a great time despite some altitude issues (3800m) and my travel friend falling off her horse. Went to grab some quick lunch before our bus left and, not finding many options, knocked on the door of a place that looked like it could be a restaurant. A little boy of about 7 answered the door and said they were closed, but we should follow him. He led us to the back door of a house. We were welcomed in and found a woman cooking in a tiny kitchen and two tiny tables filled with people. The woman scooted the children aside to make room for us to squeeze in. She set down the first course. A bowl of soup with something floating in the center. My friend and I looked at each other - what the heck is that? It was about 6 inches or so in diameter. One side was purple-ish and had a scalloped edge, almost like octopus. Could this be a sea creature? Yet here we are in the mountains. Hmm. The other side felt hard, like bones. The man next to us picked his up and started gnawing on it. We opted to eat the broth around ours. I asked her what it was. ¨Pata de Vaca¨ she said, ¨it adds a lot of flavor.¨ Well, I wasn´t sure what ¨pata¨ meant, but ok, it is some part of the cow. We finished our lunch and raced off to catch our bus. As soon as I sat down on the bus I grabbed my spanish dictionary. Pata... Foot! Cow´s foot soup - delicious! :)

Jail Time in Quito

At long last, my first blog entry - much overdue. Communication while traveling alas proves to be more difficult than you think it is going to be. It's hard to believe I've already been in Ecuador for 3 weeks! So far so good. Setting out on this trip I really expected to have a lot of down time and a lot of alone time and it has been the exact opposite. I think today was the first time I had a few hours to myself since I arrived! Have met lots of other travelers, made plans with them and suddenly I'm busy and constantly on the move. I'm sure there will be up and downs, but it has been a pretty packed few weeks. Quito for a few days, then Quilotoa loop, out to the coast and Puerto Lopez and then 8 days in the Galapagos. Head to Columbia tomorrow...

Jail Time in Quito:

OK, this first entry is a doozy. Arrived in Quito and stayed for several days at the busiest and most popular hostel in town, The Secret Garden. I have a love-hate relationship with the place, but I have met good people there and have gotten loads of good travel info. There was an idea going around the SG that a must do in Quito was a trip to the jail - Penal Garcia Moreno. And, after hearing the stories, a group of us decided that this was a trip we had to take. Penal Garcia Moreno is a real jail, not a museum, not an official tourist attraction. We set out on a rainy afternoon, 6 of us - 3 men and 3 women.

We arrived just in time before it closed. We were checked, then checked again with a "pat down", handed over our passports, gave them all our belongings to hold, had our arms stamped several times and, through 2 locked doors, we were in. Our friend who had been there already told us to give a name of one of the foreign prisoners - so we gave the name of an English fellow at the front and were ushered to his cell. When we got there - the tiny cell was full of other tourists. Most decided they were there long enough and left so we could squeeze in. Tiny tiny space - for 3 men. Bunks, with Bathroom/Kitchen combo all in a space of about 5x9 feet?

We brought gifts, as were told to - tp, chocolate, cigarettes. They were very nice and welcoming. Both men were from England. Both were there for getting caught with drugs on them - and both claimed to be innocent. One had drugs hidden in his suitcase, which he was unaware of when going through customs, and the other had drugs placed in a mail envelope he was sending, also unknown to him. They went on to tell us all about what it is like to be in prison in Ecuador. Essentially, the prisoners run the prison and everything can be purchased. If you don´t have money, you are in pretty bad shape there. You need money for food, protection, medical care, etc. Both of these guys were just going through their money from their English accounts. It´s a little bit of a free for all. The guards have little control - and all take bribes to get prisoners what they want and need. Ironically - you can buy any drug you want right there in the prison, as well as guns, knifes. On the lighter side, there are also some restaurants, shops that sell toiletries, etc. It was completely surreal to be there. I didn´t exactly feel unsafe, but it was probably good that we were in a big group. We were quite conspicous and got lots of stares. It was only later, after we heard the stories about how it is really run by the prisoners that I thought hmm, pretty much anything could happen while we are in here. Yikes! We were all relieved to get out of there without incident. Not sorry I went though - such a trip!